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.

The Quest for SNACKEEZ

It all started the other day when my son and I were watching QUBO, which is this cartoon station that we pick up with the antenna.  As I am watching the commercials, an AS SEEN ON TV ad comes on which seems weird, because I am watching tv.  Where else would I see it?  This product that a bunch of good-looking people are promoting, for what seemed like 20 minutes, was called the Snackeez.

I am intrigued by inventions.  Ever since Navin R Johnson introduced me to Pizza in a Cup, I have enjoyed seeing new ideas, both good and bad introduced to our eager, WalMart crazed society.  

The Snackeez is a large cup with a smaller cup at the top which houses your snack.  There is a lid and a straw penetrating the smaller cup which allows the user to both sip the drink below and eat the snack on top.

Big deal, right?

So here is where they got me.  For the most part, the snacks in the Snackeez were fruit like grapes or strawberries or M & M's, but then out of nowhere, one of the shots of the people enjoying their Snackeez showed french fries in it.  I just laughed out loud.  I couldn't believe that they would have hot french fries in the same container as their cold drink.  How stupid do they think we are?!

But it was a strange sort of ironic bonding moment with my son.  I looked it up and saw that Target has it.  And online they were saying 2 for $10.

As my kids and I were shopping the other day at Target for my wife's birthday, we started looking for the Snackeez.  It became this unattainable quest as we went from portable drink section to portable drink section.  Target must have 10 different portable cup sections throughout their store.  And this is a small Target.

All the while I was thinking that I should be shopping for my wife, but she did insist that I take the kids and they were getting burnt out looking through shiny toms and trying on lip gloss.  

But alas, no Snackeez at Target.

We checked with someone and after I described the Snackeez to her, she said that they had them at the dollar store.  And they have a strap.  You would not believe the excitement that my kids had at the prospect of having a carrying strap on a Snackeez cup.  They said nothing about the strap on the commercial...

We headed over to Dollar Tree.  We did an initial pass through to see what we could find.  But nothing was jumping out at us.  I bit the bullet and asked the worker kid there if they had a type of Snackeez cup which had both a snack section and a cup.  He said that they did have that, but the snack section attached at the bottom instead of the top.  When we found them, they did not have straps and they were indeed dollar store items... 

However... the kids loved them anyway.  They loved these knock-offs as if they were real Snackeez.  They even decided to give it its own unique name.  Snackee.

That was a few days ago.  Since then, they have gotten a lot of use.  The Snackee has been left in the car.  I kept seeing them drinking water out of their own.  The Snackee had become a staple in our house.  

And I hadn't really given it much thought since then...

But there we were walking along the front of WalMart this evening heading to electronics, when suddenly my son blurts out: 

"SNACKEEZ!!!!"

He ran over to the gigantic Snackeez display.  AS SEEN ON TV.  There they were.  All of them.  No one had bought any it seemed.  $10 apiece.  Both my kids, who were with me earlier, were ecstatic.  The colors they wanted and everything.  After all that, how could I say no?

Don't get me wrong!  I am happy too.  I essentially started it all.  I just...  You know how there are certain days when you are more excited to throw money away than others?

Anyway, I love how perceptive my kids are.  As we were walking, the display's back was just solid white and that is all we could see.  The kids had to turn back after we passed it to see that.  Their quest had never really ended.  

And now we are the proud owners of two Snackeez cups.  Looking forward to trying the hot french fries out with a cold root beer.

I Know a Worse One

I have been banned from the bedroom because of a bad habit.  I can only do this when I am 25 feet away from the house.  I have tried sneaking into the bathroom, shutting the door and turning on the fan, but somehow, my wife knows.

I feel like I am a leper or something.  It's not even really a habit.  It's just the way I do it.  Everyone does this simple act.  But mine is just a little louder than others.

I have tried to quiet it down, but I feel like I am not getting it all.

What am I to do?  Is there a doctor for this condition? 

I am not sure at what point I started blowing my nose wrong.  I do it really loud and my parents think I am going to damage my ears.  My wife thinks I am going to damage her ears.  I know it is like honking a really loud horn.    

Dad... Dad... Daddy-O

My friend told me the other day that they may be remaking Back to the Future.  Wow!  Is it already time for that?  My first thought was: How do you find someone as great as Michael J. Fox?

  

Then, this friend said that he had watched Back to the Future with his 12 year old daughter and she thought it was a stupid movie.  How is that even possible?

Back to the Future had everything in it.  It had the fifties.  It had the eighties.  It had Michael J. Fox.  It had Doc Brown.  It had a DeLorean.  It had cool science.  Or science fiction.  It had those gigantic speakers at the beginning.  It had George McFly.  It had Lorraine.  And Biff!  Skateboarding!  Nostalgia.  Mr Sandman.  "George!  Did you ever think of running for class president?!"  Mayor Goldie Wilson!  1.21 Jigawatts.

And there I sat thinking about how much was achieved with this movie.  It really coincided with what was important to us back then.  For some reason, in the eighties, the fifties were very interesting to us.  Perhaps that had to do with Reagan being in the White House and old family values being at the forefront.  Hard to say.  The look of the fifties corresponded to the eighties somewhat.  Rolled up jeans and flat tops.  Not sure about poodle skirts.  All I know is that when he goes back, I was fascinated with the time period.

Marty McFly is beyond cool.  He rides around on a skateboard and he has access to a camcorder.  He has the hot girlfriend and is an assistant to this crazy professor.  He is in a rock band.  And he loves the 4 wheel drive Toyota.  He has all these dreams, but yet he is slightly hampered by parents who never really got out of their rut.

"He's a peeping Tom."  "Get used to these bars, kid."  "Just make like a tree and get outta here."

They really did a great job of capturing a lot of great fifties nostalgia and incorporating it into the eighties, making it relevant.

But there ya go.  It was great, because it worked with the eighties and what was important back then.  If they redid it, it would have to be now going back 30 years to... uh oh!  The eighties.  But would that work?  It could.  But it seems like it would be cheap.  Or at least more cheap.

"Give me a Pepsi Free."  "If you want a Pepsi, pal, you're going to have to pay for it."

I think I need to set my kids on a program which eventually ensures that they will love Back to the Future as I did when they are old enough to see Doc Brown get mowed down by machine gun toting Libyans.  Perhaps that program will include lots of fifties music like Chuck Berry and time travel movies.  We will have to watch Family Ties.  Also, throw in some Huey Lewis and the News.

I can't fail my children on this mission.  It is too important.  Otherwise, Darth Vader from the planet Vulcan will melt my brain...

Must Finish All Candy in House

As I look longingly from bag to bag, I wonder when it is going to be over and I can go back to my healthy eating habits.  Holidays keep coming though and the candy keeps piling up.  I am helpless.  I am stuck in a vortex of sugar.  I stay up late and exhaust myself.  My teeth are rotting.  My skin is dry.  Dark circles under my eyes. (Actually, those are always there.)

Somebody save me.  Somebody come in and purge our household of all sweets.  Someone who cares about the human race.  Destroy it.  Destroy it all.  Make me go cold turkey.  Make me lick my lips incessantly because I need my fix.

I just want to be a sentient being again...  

The Second Door

Of all the awkward exchanges in life, there is one that just gives me more stress and anxiety than all the others.  I am fine with talking to people who have excellent eye contact.  I am okay with friendly people in the elevator.  I am even good with taking turns at the water fountain or ice machine.  

But the one that gets me, turns me inside out, makes me calculate from a distance to avoid it is the whole "holding the door" for people thing.  It absolutely makes no sense at all.  There I am walking up to a door and suddenly there is a girl behind me.  But of course, she is not right behind me.  She is like 50 feet away.  And so I open the door with a smile on my face and act like I am going to be there all day.  Then, she makes it even more awkward by shuffling her feet and lunging forward to act like she is hurrying to help me not have to wait so long.

Then, it gets worse.  How could it get worse?  I don't know.  But it does.  There is a second door.  Everywhere you go, there is a second door.  Something to do with air conditioning I imagine.  But then, she goes through that second door herself and does not even acknowledge that I am coming through as well.  It makes the whole initial act of holding the first door absolutely pointless.  It's not that I expect the door to be held for me.  And, I can't get through to hold the door for the person a second time because there is no room and I would look like a bigger idiot than I already do.  

What am I supposed to do here?  Take my son along wherever I go and have him ready to open the second door?  "You be ready, son!  This is a big responsibility."  It would be really cute.  The Father/Son team who beat the Second Door Dilemma.

Quality Control

Hospitals are funny places.  I see why there are so many movies and tv shows about them.  Everything is dramatic there.  It is such a strange world with so many people coming and going.  TV shows have a new guest each week so they can come in all angry and pissed off and within an hour they have resolved their issues.  While at the hospital I did not seen one person overreact to anything.  I am sure it happens, but not on a weekly occurrence like the TV indicates.

The hospital food was not bad.  I enjoyed licking the scraps up off the floor when my wife was done with them.  But I was still amazed that the food was not great.  I have prepared food before and it does not take much to make it fresh and enjoyable.  

I can imagine there is this motivated food preparer down there who is doing her best to make everything great.  She is putting the garnishes on the plate.  She is slicing the orange in just the right way.  The sandwich is hot and the bacon is still sizzling. She is just about out the door to deliver the food and she is stopped by Quality Control.

"I'll take that food!" Quality Control announces and they grab the tray away.  Then, they go through a series of steps to take care of the quality.  They hold the sandwich out on the window ledge for 10 minutes.  They painstakingly paint the red grapes green.  They throw the diced potatoes back on the grill and do their best to burn them.   

Then, the food gets sent up by a person who does not get tips for their deliveries.  They also appear to be a person who has gotten orders wrong, because they verify the name before they hand the food over.

I realize it is bulk food, but I would expect it to be as good as Denny's...

Star Power

Tower Heist was on the other night.  My wife and I watched it and there were a couple of good laughs.  

What was incredible to me was that Matthew Broderick was in it and was not billed as one of the top guys.  Maybe it is just my generation, but to me, Matthew Broderick has major star power.  His part was pretty small, but I found myself more interested in his character than anyone else.  His lines were great.  He played a former Wall Street guy who lost everything including his wife and family.  Somehow, he ends up on the team of thieves which Ben Stiller assembles.

The really weird part was how unfunny Eddie Murphy was.  He's another with star power, but it was like he was just there to collect his paycheck.  He offered nothing to the movie.  It really could have been anyone in that role.

And then there was Ben Stiller and he pretty much played Ben Stiller.  He had his calm demeanor and then he goes ape at one point.  How many times have we seen that happen?

I understand that movies like this do not have strong writers.  It is the buddy heist, feel good movie.  There are a couple twists and turns to make you feign interest.

The real key figure to me was Matthew Broderick.  He is the only one who appeared to take the role seriously and bring something to it.  Perhaps that is because the big roles are starting to not come his way anymore.  So maybe he adds more content to the roles he gets.

When I was a kid, I watched Wargames and Ladyhawke hundreds of times.  Matthew Broderick was so good.  I know that most everyone loves Ferris Bueller's Day Off.  I enjoyed it when I saw it in the theater, but I ended up taking a second look and I have had a tough time since then.  Matthew Broderick is still good in it, but the movie itself is more about how to be the biggest possible a-hole and get away with it.  You watch the movie and think: Who am I rooting for again?

I liked the fact that he would take a small role and still give a solid performance.  I think that says something about the kind of work that actors and directors need to bring to movies.  We, as the audience, know.  We are not fooled by the big names.  So what that you big names are Eddie Murphy and Ben Stiller?!  You got my attention for this movie!  What are you bringing to it?!  Oh, nothing?  Maybe I will go find some actors who are willing to bring more to the screen.

Almighty Golf

When I saw Caddyshack as a young boy, I really thought golf was cool.  Despite the fact that they were ripping on the establishment, the country club aspect and the lameness of the rich, I really thought that golf had something to offer me.

For years, I tried to learn what I could about the game.  There is certainly a mystique around the game of golf.  Guys get together and they have to wear collared shirts and they can't step in each other's lines.  White glove on the left hand.  Michael Jackson?

I suppose I have felt sort of like Jay Gatsby, who thought he could be part of the rich by assimilating into its culture of parties and excess.  Only instead of flappers and top hats I am reminded that I need to shut up when someone is swinging and let the guy whose ball is furthest away go first even though he just stepped into the bushes to take a leak.

I had one good friend who wanted to go golfing all the time with me.  And we went to the cheesiest and cheapest course in town.  He beat me every single time.  But it was fun and inexpensive with no pressure to be good or flip out because my shot is hooking or fading or whatever.  This is how I think golf should be for me.  (Granted, I will flip out when playing volleyball but that's another story...)

I don't want to offer up my firstborn on the altars of golf. The country club temples are a little much.  And, I don't want to dress up in the priestly robes of Nike nor use the PING clubs to slice out the heart of the fairway.  

I want to have my thrift store cleats and my second hand clubs from the 1980s with socks on the drivers.  

I am not saying I want to be Happy Gilmore or even Al Czervyk.  

But being the ball with Ty Webb in his blindfold is the kind of golf I am shooting for.  Nananananana...

 

Half a Sheet Proves Nothing

So who decided that half a sheet of paper towel is all that is needed now?  I miss the bigger piece.  And don't tell me that I should just get two of the half sheets now to make one.  I want the square piece.  If I wanted to tear that in half, I could, but I liked being able to do more things with my paper towel.  

In fact, it felt more like an actual towel.  What do they call them now?  Paper strips?  Long napkins?  Bookmarks?

When they said: "Bounty, the quicker-picker-upper!  Half a sheet'll prove it!" they did not mean for the makers to take that literally.  Now, a half a sheet is a full sheet.  What are we going to do with this new half sheet full sheet dumb sheet?

Our obsessive nature is going to cause us to pull five times as much off the roll because now we are being short-changed too much.  Our brains cannot fathom this new non-towel, toilet paper sized strip of napkin.  If we wanted to use napkins to clean up our mess, we would use them.  We want something industrial-sized.

I also liked the idea of the original paper towel square being too big.  I felt confident that it would be enough.  And, I was well aware that I was wasting paper and trees.  But so what!  Come on!  The whole idea of having paper towels is a total waste.  If I wanted to conserve paper, I would use a regular cloth towel.  No!  I am conscientiously wasting trees.  I recognize that.  I am guilty of that.  

Don't try and soften the blow by giving me these thin strips of bacon sized paper towels!  I want the full sized two-ply sheets with the silly embroidery on them.  I want to know that if we are short on blankets in our house, that we can resort to our paper towels to keep us warm.

Moochiemeter

After sitting on my desk for months, the Moochiemeter finally has a box.  And a name.  It wasn't always the Moochiemeter.  In fact, up until 30 minutes ago, it was just a cheap multimeter.  But now, it is somebody.  Or someone. Or some thing.

Many years ago, when I was in high school, I took a math class which required an advanced calculator.  I think it came with some sort of cheap vinyl cover which would never protect it.  So, much like with the Moochiemeter, I created a small cardboard box which housed the calculator and gave it a name.  

Skankulator.

I used Skankulator for a couple years until it was time to pass her on to my younger sister, who continued with the name and even told me how Skankulator was getting along.  I think Skankulator finally died.  A sad day I think.  I sort of lost track of Skankulator.  Other calculators had come into my life.  One even had a plastic case so I had no need to name it.

So now that Moochiemeter has a box, I should probably learn how to use him.  I did test some batteries with Moochiemeter.  They were brand new so they were good.

I am thinking of doing a little cheat sheet on the inside of the box.  Moochiemeter has a black and red wire, but the spots where they plug in do not have any indication on them of which one goes where.  Both of them have green lettering on them.  I think this is a sort of deterrent for idiots.  Since a multimeter deals with electricity, the more they can keep certain people away from it the better.  

Also, I know that putting the dial on certain settings while completing the circuit could possibly blow Moochiemeter right out of my hands.

It is kind of a big box and if I write small, I could probably get a lot on there...

A State of Unrest Room

It is kind of strange to be in the restroom at work and have people come in talking very loudly.  I am there to take care of something which is hopefully quiet and personal.  But suddenly a voice comes blaring out.   In a rare instance, they are talking to someone in the urinal next to them and if it ever happens to be me, I can see myself quoting Westley in The Princess Bride as he is scrambling up the cliff:

"I don't mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks"

But more often than not, the loud voice is because the person is on their cell phone.  Now, those microphones are really good on cell phones, so the person on the other end has to know that the guy is in the crapper.  It is an echoey sound.  One can hear toilets flush.  Grunting.  The other sounds.  There is no amount of comfortableness as this happens.

I really cannot believe that people do this.  A Saturday Night Live skit at best.  

And, I would like to think that if I was on the other line with the guy, I would just hang up.

+ "... my family was with me on the strip in Las Vegas!  And you know what that's like..."
- "Yes.  It's not a place for your family for sure.  I can't imagine..."
+ "And I was was was being handed handed handed..."
- "Hey, it sounds like you are kind of busy.  Why don't you call me back?"
+ "Oh no Oh no Oh no!  I'm fine fine fine! Let me continue this story story story."
-"It looks like I have another call coming through.  I gotta take it."
+ "I didn't hear anything thing thing."
- "Okay, fine!  You left me no choice!  You're taking a dump!  I can hear the others in there!  Just call me back!  Have some courtesy!  Wait a minute!  What am I saying?!  Don't call me ever again!  I don't care what you're selling! We don't do business with people who don't know when to hang up their phones..."

The Most Wonderful DAY of the Year

A friend of mine said that he hated Valentine's Day today.  He is married.  Happily I think.  Somehow, he just doesn't get it.  

This is the greatest day of the year.  The day to express one's undying love for one's significant other.  And how is that undying love expressed?  Candy, chocolate, cards, hearts, pink, more candy, flowers, roses, pink roses, red roses, love, and ...

Olympics?  Why not?

Happy Valentine's Day to my lovely wife!  

And Go USA!

Don't They Know? How Could They Not know?

The other night we went grocery shopping with the kids.  As they ran around hiding behind the fruits and vegetables, my wife's heart rate visibly went up and embarrassment was palpable.  As they got in other people's way, they continued to not have any consideration for anyone else.  How dare they!  Don't they know?!

And not too long ago we were in line at a restaurant where the kids climbed on the railing and swung into other people.  They bumped into other people and did not say they were sorry.  They wanted to be held even though they are too big.  They cannot contain their excitement in being someplace where they can bother the most people possible.

We come home and they drop their coats right in the kitchen of all places or in their doorway.  Our daughter has to bring everything from the play room into the rest of the house.  Our son has to leave LEGOs in multiple locations as if he is setting up separate bases around the galaxy for his spaceships to fly to.

At the grocery store, I took the kids' hands and we calmly walked to the end of the aisle and turned.  When we were out of sight of Mommy, we cut loose and ran, screaming and going wild.  Well, I did that for one second and then caught myself because I'm a grown up now.  Instead we went and found the fun Valentine's aisle and my daughter got the toy fan caught in her hair.

At the restaurant the people who were bumped into were kind and said they didn't care.  We got through, found a table, and my wife and them blew their straw wrappers at each other.  Before long, they were all getting ice cream and toy volleyballs.

The coats, toys and LEGOs scattered on the floor are perplexing.  But I guess so was the fact that my kids couldn't dress or undress themselves last year.  I will understand this riddle one day.