Life's Little Observations

Skip Walker's Response to the State of the Union Address

2006-02-13T18:55:00.000-05:00

Like you, Skip watched the State of the Union address last week. He decided to respond in a big way. Watch to hear what Skip has to say!

Click here to watch the video

USPS Delivers Poor Customer Service for the Holidays!

2005-12-19T00:42:00.000-05:00

Yep, the USPS failed the customer service test when they delivered an arrogant message to me last week. Just when you think this quasi-public organization learned how to deal with the public, they treat their customers with like they are the only game in town. You would think the USPS would have learned a lesson about losing business to UPS, FedEx and email. Let's stamp out rude behavior by our postal service.

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Technical Troubles

2005-12-17T01:19:00.000-05:00

Just as soon as I get the technical troubles straightened out, we'll get another post. Thanks everyone for your patience.

We're Comin' After Ya!

2005-10-11T19:30:00.000-04:00

Pretty soon you'll need a doctor's note so you can earn those extra airline miles. You know how some people carry a card with them to restaurants to figure out how much to tip their waiters? Soon waiters are going to have a height/weight chart to tell their customers how many miles they can earn. Too short for your weight? Sorry, you can't earn full mileage.

Click here to watch the video

Steroids, Breakfast of Champions

2005-08-10T20:05:00.000-04:00

Congress wants all of the test records of Rafael Palmeiro's steroids test. Should they really be able to do that? Did congress forget about HIPPA? Pretty soon we'll be paying a Lincoln for a gallon of gas. How about gathering some of those records?

Click here to watch the video

Here's Your Employee Discounts!

2005-07-26T22:14:00.000-04:00

The new rage is for companies to offer “Employee Discounts” in order to improve revenues. While companies are in the mood to let us save a little bit of money, I have a few suggestions that might just help out! Do you want to know who should be offering the next “employee discounts?”

Click here to watch the video

I Need A Crash Course in Grocery Shopping

2005-07-11T23:41:00.000-04:00

I can't shop now and I couldn't shop then. When I got my driver's license my mom sent me to the store for a head of lettuce. I came home with a cabbage. I think food stores close their doors when they see me coming.

Click here to watch the video

The Supreme Court Plays Real Life Monopoly With Your Property

2005-06-27T13:00:00.000-04:00

Look out! It appears that your economic security isn't quite as important as the economic security of builders and developers. That's what the United States Supreme Court told us in a ruling this week. Now your property can be taken and given to people so they can build office complexes. Don't they know that if the little guy doesn't have anything, the big guy won't either? I guess taxing citizens to raise money didn't work fast enough, let's just take their property, too!

Click here to watch the video

Michael Jackson's Puzzling Future

2005-06-12T19:13:00.000-04:00

It's been quite a while for the jurors in the Michael Jackson case. Are they trying to earn as much money as possible by prolonging their deliberations? Or are they honing their skills to become professional jurors? Could they possibly earn credits towards a law school degree by listing their experience on their resume? Perhaps we should look at his music to determine his fate.

Click here to watch the video

Manly Makeover or Maniacal Malarkey?

2005-06-01T19:06:00.000-04:00

When this picture hit the press, a lot of folks were up in arms. I'm not sure why they felt that way but the story seemed to have legs for a couple of weeks. Some people thougt this was such a bad thing they didn't have the stomach to look at it. People, we have to keep our heads about ourselves and really take a look and eye up the situation.

Click here to watch the video

Do We Really Need Another Way to Lose Weight?

2005-05-12T18:50:00.000-04:00

With all the specialty channels on television, it only stands to reason the we should have an "All Diet" channel. Go figure that Jack La Lanne was way ahead of the curve. So what do you think the all diet channel would look like? You can find out here.

Isn't neat that that they want you to lose weight by watching the very thing that helped you put on weight?

Click here to watch the video

The "New and Improved, Better Tasting Food Pyramid"

2005-04-28T19:50:00.000-04:00

The Federal Government in an effort to help it's citizens eat in a more healty manner unvieled the "new and improved, better tasting food pyramid." From all accounts, you wouldn't know it had anything to do with food. If I didn't know better I thought it was an advertisement for a step exercise running up and down thingy.

Click here to watch the video

A Soldier's Ingenuity

2005-04-13T22:06:00.000-04:00

The pentagon tries to give our soldiers whatever they need to fight the war. With everything that our soldiers carry into battle, they are bound to be missing just the right tool for the job. Thanks to the ingenuity of "a few good men," they use the wrong tool at the right time to save a soldier.

Click here to watch the video

Sandy Berger Suddenly Knows Right From Wrong

2005-04-03T22:26:00.000-04:00

President Clinton's National Security Advisor, Sandy Berger, admitted in court this week that he did take classified documents from the National Archives. He took them and destroyed them. Of all people in the world that should know about committing such a crime, he receives no, I repeat, NO jail time! He will however pay a $10,000 fine.

Click here to watch the video

Wendy's Secret Ingredient

2005-03-25T23:39:00.000-05:00

Some of the fast food chains have a "secret ingredient" or a "special sauce." But according to one woman who ordered a bowl chili at a Wendy's in San Jose, California, the secret ingredient was a little to easy to figure out.

Click here to watch the video

Blake is Back in Business!

2005-03-17T12:38:00.000-05:00

I'm not a prosecutor and I don't play one on TV (although I may play one soon on the internet.) If I were the prosecutor in the Robert Blake case I would have gone in a different direction. I would have proven that Bonnie Lee, Blake's deceased wife, was pregnant.

We learned in the Scott Peterson case that if someone kills his pregnant wife, then that person gets the death penalty. I'm sure the prosecutor could have found enough evidence, somewhere, wink, wink, to show that she was pregnant. If it could be proven that Bonnie Lee was pregnant at the time of her death, Robert Blake would have an adjoining cell with Scott Peterson.

Now, Mr. Blake has 10:15 tee time at the golf course with O.J. Simpson where they will continue to search for the killers of their wives.

The Newest Olympic Sport

2005-03-13T18:49:00.000-05:00

It seems as though there are many female teachers trying out for this new emerging Olympic sport. As it turns out, everyone trying out for this sport are all losers!

What sport is it? Take a look. Click here to watch the video

As Dick Vitale would say, "This is a pressure-packed sport baaaabyyyyy!"

Restaurant Critic

2005-03-03T08:16:00.000-05:00

Here is my suggestion when eating in New York Restaurants that don't have "dress codes."

Click here to watch the video

They Say Everyone Has A Double!

2005-02-27T20:58:00.000-05:00

George, Is that you?

What do you do if you are very involved with the Boy Scouts? What do you do if you are a long time member of your church? What do you do if you are a leader in the community? What you do if you are accused of killing eight to 10 people over the course of 20 years?

That's easy, you move to Wichita, Kansas, and hide out in a George Costanza costume with a moustache.

What Do Paris Hilton's Cell Phone List and Me Have In Common?

2005-02-24T07:37:00.000-05:00

It's been reported that Paris Hilton's cell phone was hacked. For those of you who don't know what hacking is, here is the short course. Hacking when someone enters your computer system without authorization.

It seems that a hacker gained entry to Paris Hilton's cell phone and copied the names and telephone numbers and posted them on the internet for all to see.

I went on the internet to look at the list. I looked at the list and checked it again and again. Paris! Where is my name? All of the time we spent together at your family's hotel. All the time that we talked. How about our videos?

I'm dumbfounded, deranged and disappointed that I didn't see my name on the list.

Well Ms. Hotel Girl, here's what I'm going to do. I'm taking your name out of my little black book. I'm taking your name out of my cell phone. And if my cell phone gets hacked, I hope you experience the same level of rage that I felt when I realized I wasn't on your cell phone list.

That's it Paris. I can't live like this anymore. Don't bother calling me anymore. I'll send your call right to voicemail hell! We're done!

Oh, Paris, if you should see Nicole, tell her to hit me up on the cell.

Steroids For Everyone!

2005-02-13T21:05:00.000-05:00

We watched with awe as Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa hit aspirins out of the baseball park each and every day. Jose Canseco says that a lot of players were involved in taking steroids to improve their ability to hit homeruns, make them faster and be more competitive.

What would it be like if people in other walks of life were taking steroids.

How about if your tax preparer was on steroids? Can you see staff accountants in the computer server room shooting up. What's the proof? These accountants were getting refunds for clients that are thousands of dollars more than the average client of their firm.

Corporate research attorneys on steroids! What's the proof? They filed for more patents than any other attorney in the firm.

Convience store clerks have been known to be on steroids. These guys are making 18 foot subs instead of the normal 6 foot subs for Superbowl parties.

You know your favorite musician is on steroids when he can play "Stairway to Heaven" in 3 minutes and 18 seconds.

How about when the self-proclaimed office stud talks about the how long he maintains.... oh wait a minute, that's Levitra, a different type of male enhancement drug. So if Jose Canseco starts talking about his Louisville Slugger, pray, just pray that he his talking about something that is authorized by Major League Baseball.

Looking Forward To Iraqi Elections

2005-01-29T23:31:00.000-05:00

Iraqi polling centers are set to open in about an hour from now.

I have exclusively obtained information about events in Iraq that I would like to share it with you.

Several of the people running for election to draw up Iraq's constitution have been observed by members of news media on this day prior to the election. Their reports are being shared here so that in case you don't see any of the major network broadcasts, you will have the most up-to-date information. Keep in mind that this information has not been verified, because, frankly, I have it on good authority that everything being reported here is blatantly made up.

Ahmed Al bin Algoore has been spotted at the Supreme Court of Iraq asking that every vote be counted.

Another Iraqi running for election, Ahmed Al bin Keeray was making a long speech. His supporters were desperately pleading with him to explain just what he was saying. Reporters again are working on this translation. Their initial assessment was that he was for the elections before he was against them.

Ahmed Al bin Ahareddean was speaking with some supporters. It wasn't readily apparent what he was saying, but the first attempt at the translation was something like "We're going to Basra, we're going to Baghdad, we're going to Kirkuk, Karbala, Ramadi, we're going to Mosul and Fallujah." There was some sort of unintelligible yell or scream right after that. Reporters are still trying to discern its meaning.

And finally, Ahmed Al bin Gebuushii promised to bring all the competing factions together. There is some concern in Iraq if he will be able to rule because he doesn't have a firm grasp on the Iraqi language.

This has been a Life's Little Observer Alert!

Dressing and Driving

2005-01-20T10:45:00.000-05:00

I went online to get directions the other day to a place that was about an hour away from where I live. The results page gave me 11 instructions regarding turns to get to my location. Interestingly, the first two lines of the instructions got me 80 percent of the way there. Then the other nine steps of the directions required a greater attention to detail. A left turn here, put the light on to read, a right turn there, put the light back on, another left, put the light on, etc. etc. etc.

I finished my swim this morning and I was getting dressed after my shower. I put my pants and shirt on and realized that I was 80 percent dressed. The other items I had to put on required a greater attention to detail. The left sock goes on, then the right sock. The left shoe goes on, then the right shoe. Then the necktie has to be tied selecting the proper knot to match the collar of the shirt. And finally, the goop has to be applied so the hair is perfectly coiffed.

I'm not sure whether driving is like getting dressed or getting dressed is like driving, but I do know one thing. Friends don't let friends drive naked.

No More Late Fees, No More Late Fees!

2005-01-07T22:57:00.000-05:00

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Do I remember where I was when Blockbuster announced the end of late fees? No. But I am thankful for their permanent moratorium on late fees for overdue DVDs and VHS movies.

Blockbuster calls it a momentus announcement. I call it a way to supplement my 401K plan. The way I pay late fees I can fund a pretty good annuity plan. Or I could start a college fund or maybe buy a new car just from money I'm going to save in late fees.

For anyone who returned a movie or DVD and had to pay late fees, it can put a small strain on your wallet, especially if you watch five or six movies a week.

And there are the times when you are on your way back to return movies and you almost run into the car ahead of you. All of the DVDs sail onto the floor and one invariably slides under the seat and never makes it back into the store. That is followed by the letters you receive from the collection agencies stating if you don't return the DVD by midnight you will be harrasssed, your credit rating will be permanently stained and you won't be able to purchase the real movie popcorn with your next rental. I can see it now. "I'm sorry Mr. Observer, you can't buy this brand new Jaguar because you had one too many late fees."

Maybe even worse than that you will be relegated to borrowing DVDs from your local public library.

But this is a new era for cinema renters. I have the opportunity to return a DVD without late fees that I've had for a very long time. It is a Charlie Chaplin movie. There is something wrong with it though. When I play it there are no voices. So here is what I'm going to do. I'm going to put this DVD in the night drop box and maybe they'll never know it was me who returned it and that way they won't charge me for ruining one of their DVDs.

Happy New Year, I Think???

2004-12-31T23:18:00.000-05:00

Here it is an hour and a half before New Year's. It's time to come up with some resolutions for 2005.

Last year, coming into 2004 (meaning December 31, 2003,) I made a resolution that I would come up with my 2005 resolutions much, much, MUCH earlier. This way I would have plenty of time to write and review my mission statement, set my goals and begin to implement my action plan right on January 1, 2005. After all, I would have had a whole year to get my stuff together, right? One of the things I do best is procrastinate. So here I am with less than 90 minutes to go and I don't have a clue. No mission statement, no goals, no action plan.

But I did come up with a few ideas that I can get started on tomorrow:

1. I'm going to get the oil changed in my car so it will run more smoothly;

2. I will send away for a mail order self-paced charisma course from Brian Dunkelman; and

3. I wll get an adapter for my 8-Track player so I can play my brand new Andy Williams cassette tapes.

That should keep me going until at least May. So if I can count on you guys to help me out, I would appreciate it. Can you send me an email around July or August reminding me that New Year's 2006 will be here soon and that I should get started preparing my resolutions? I would really appreciate your help. That way we will all be better prepared for this time next year!

Is This Product Right For You?

2004-12-17T21:49:00.000-05:00

I’m watching the news last night and two commercials appeared back to back.

The first commercial was for a product for ED or erectile dysfunction. There is a pretty girl with her arms around her man. In her sexiest voice she says to the viewer, “ask your doctor if this product is for you.” I immediately dropped my beer onto my pepperoni pizza as I made a mad scramble for the phone. If she is packaged with the product, I want mine. Then you see her get lifted off her feet and swung around by her gentleman friend while she flashes a huge smile and looking him directly in the eye. This is done in slow motion as the seductive music plays in the background. You get a real sense about what is about to happen in the next 36 hours. (Wink, wink!) You know what I mean if you’ve seen the commercials.

Immediately following that commercial, another commercial appears featuring a woman who looks very much like the pretty girl from the previous commercial. At first, I begin to question if this is a continuation of the previous commercial or a new one. After she says her first line I realize that it is a new promotional spot. She says “Living with genital herpes can be a hassle.” Whoooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Wide-eyed, I sat there stunned. What the heck just happened?

I thought “what a self centered little slut she is.” She lures the guy into bed by getting him to use a drug for ED, then, she gives him herpes. There should be a law against that.

Just as I the phone rings at the doctor’s office, I slam the receiver down onto its cradle. I no longer want anything more to do with the “love of my life” from the first commercial.

After I get the beer and pizza cleaned up, I begin to process what I’ve just seen on the, pardon my expression, “boob tube.”

I guess the guy in the first commercial is now running around infecting a whole lot of other women with some variation of STDs or worse!

Perhaps they should return to advertising cigarettes again on television. After all, if advertising products promoting sexual activity is okay, why not advertise products that allow the couple to consummate the entire experience?

Maybe they should sell both products together in a blockbuster combination package. This could be marketed on television by Cathy Mitchell, the same woman who advertises the Grip n' Flip and the Scoop-N-Strain.

Kola Konjecture

2004-11-23T17:10:00.000-05:00

You get advertisments for food stores in your local newspaper, don't you. We get them also. And, all of these stores that advertise ask you to get their "super duper saver member purchase points friendly shopper neighborhood discount card." If you are the proud owner of one of these cards you are entitled to extra savings on items that regular shoppers aren't allowed to buy at those low low bargain basement prices.

When you sign up for this card you get a wallet size card, one for your keyring, and perhaps a dogtag style card that you can proudly display around your neck while surfing the aisles. The dogtag style identifies you as a power purchaser.

I noticed an ad yesterday that, let's say, plucked my last nerve. They were advertising a carbonated beverage product that comes in a red and white package, mostly red though. I drink the product on occasion and I like it, but that is not what I want to discuss here.

Ms. Observer sent me to the store to buy two cases of these advertised beverages. Amazingly the cost per case is less than a gallon of gasoline. The ad also said "LIMIT TWO." Can you tell me why a store finds it necessary to ration cola when they have a display that reaches the ceiling?

Off I go to the store. I walk over to the display and pick up my allotment of cases. I make my way to the so called "express line" and what do I find? A line a mile long. Each person had a case of cola in each hand. It looked like a string of decorated christmas trees.

Two more people to go and it's my turn to check out. Then I hear a screech. "Siiirrrrrr, you've already been through the line. You've gotten your limit." You would have thought that Ron Artest just had some liquid refreshment thrown on him. This man had quite a reaction. Quizzing the cashier, asking for the manager. Everyone was mumbling to themselves, "why didn't he just go to another line?"

It used to be if you had your super duper card you were golden. Apparently no one read the fine print in the advertisement that said that in addition to your super duper super saver card, you also need the valuable coupon. What's next, you can only get the special during the odd hours of the day, only purchase the sale items when you buy three nectarines or cannot make purchases if you or any of your family works or knows anyone that works at the store? And don't even think about using a debit card.

The poor cashier. She caught stuff from everybody. I finally reached the cashier and she had such a disgusted look on her face. Her face said to me "why didn't I call in sick today." I looked back at here and my face said "you should have" but I was thinking, "why didn't you just let the guy buy the cola?" The last time I checked goodwill brought a lot more patronage to the store.

Everything I Needed To Know I Learned On Election Day

2004-11-04T15:58:00.000-05:00

Tuesday, November 2, was Election Day. I learned many lessons that I can apply to life. Feel free to use these lessons for yourself.

1. Anybody that lives in a state that borders water may have trouble counting.

2. I eat Chocolate ice cream, not because I like it, but because I hate Vanilla.

3. I can go far in life if I learn to talk halfway good.

4. I’m repainting my house. Three rooms will be red, 2 will be blue and one will be gray.

5. I only buy items that cost $51.48.

6. A "swing state" isn't when you feel good about exchanging spouses with your neighbor.

7. I don’t believe what my wife tells me she bought at the store (exit poll.) I only believe what I see in the bags (final returns.)

So there you have it. Everything we ever needed to know you learned in one day albeit a long one.....

Get Your Flu Shot Here

2004-10-21T09:41:00.000-04:00

I needed to pick up a few things at the grocery store early Saturday morning. I went for two reasons, one is I was hungry and I needed to eat and secondly, my wife wasn't home to feed me.

It just so happened that the store I went to was offering flu shots for senior citizens. This is a great idea since there is a shortage of flu vaccines. I collided with more than 450 people standing in lines to make sure they were protected against the flu this winter.

There were a few oddball things going on in the store. As you can imagine, with 450 people in line, there could be a few standouts.

I heard one man say to his wife referring to his place in line "what's my number?" When I heard that I had a flashback to the early 70's when we were sitting in front of our television sets watching the Federal Draft board choose birth dates to determine who would be the lucky winners of an all expense paid trip to Viet Nam.

The store manager, in my opinion, was the epitome of customer service. He walked over to the dessert aisle and brought over about 16 boxes of doughnuts to the folks who were patiently waiting in line. The only problem, I'm sure, is that most of the people are diabetic. Thankfully I got out of the store before there were any adverse reactions.

Everyone kept themselves occupied by reading the morning paper. As I walked down the aisle I notice that everyone was opened to the same page. Take a guess as to what page they were reading. Yes that's right. The Obituaries!

Of course a lot of people were getting uncomfortable with the long wait. One lady was doing a little complaining. Her husband said to her "stop kvetching. You have more aches than John Kerry has plans.”

As I was heading up the pasta aisle, I detected an unusual odor. The odor seemed to permeate the entire aisle. I knew it smelled familiar but I just couldn't place it. Was it perfume or cologne? I thought it might be the smell of mothballs. My grandma used to wear clothes that smelled like mothballs. Then it hit me. I recognized that acrid smell from my old karate days. It was ol' folks cologne. It was Ben Gay! My eyes began to burn so I knew they followed the instructions on the package, "apply liberally several times per day."

I must say, the store manager was a champ that day. My only question is why did he start the line in the frozen food section? Everybody knows that seniors are temperature sensitive.

So there you have it. Something else for me to look forward to!

2004-10-19T08:57:00.000-04:00

Only "one" more day until the next observation!

Do Something Before This Happens To You!

2004-09-30T14:17:00.000-04:00

There is a crime wave sweeping the country. Is it perpetuated by well-known organized crime families? No! Is it perpetuated by gangs? No! And, the effects of this crime aren't immediately recognized by its victims, although at some point the owners of the affected establishments may realize they are being taken. And to top it all off, no one recognizes that these crimes are wreaking havoc on our economy.

The most interesting aspect about this crime is that just about no one ever sees it happen, yet there are witnesses.

What is the crime to which I am referring? Pilfering of sugar packets and napkins! And just who is executing these crimes? To what demographic do these scoundrels belong? Senior Citizens! Yes, that's correct, Senior Citizens.

This is how the scam works. A "senior couple" goes into the local burger or donut joint under the pretense of buying breakfast or lunch. They actually purchase a SMALL cup of coffee for which they receive a discount. They make their way over to the condiment bar and nonchalantly take a handful of sugar packets (around 47 packets because their arthritic stricken fingers can't hold any more) and a ream of napkins (usually about half the supply in the napkin holder.) When the bootie has been secured, the seniors who entered the establishment with canes and walkers are suddenly able to flee without any assistance. Hmmmmm.

Evidence of their crime doesn't present itself until you are asked to visit their home for dinner. You never notice their sinister side until they set the table for coffee and dessert. You see the napkins and sugar packets from the local food outlets.

And then they have the nerve to mix the sugar packets from two different restaurants and the napkin of another. The least they could do would be to show a little decorum and maintain consistency among the condiments. How about all sugar and napkins from the same restaurant? That ain't asking too much, is it?

You have to be very careful upon leaving their house. They try to divert some of their ill-gotten gains to you by saying "We have so much sugar, why don't you take some with you," attempting to make you unwitting accomplice to their crime.

Something has to be done about this problem that is sweeping this nation. Do we need a twelve-step program for our seniors to attend that will cure them of this problem? Should Oprah do a show where she has an audience of all seniors and have her give thousands of packets of sugar to these needy people? Should Dr. Phil do a special show to psychoanalyze the nature of the "Sweet Tooth Swindle?"

I often wonder at what age does it happen that a person walks into a fast food joint and begins pocketing sugar and napkins. I wonder how long it will be before this begins happening to me.

Next Time, Spare me the Shopping

2004-09-10T13:58:00.000-04:00

I was under the impression that when there was communication to be made that it was supposed to be clear. I also thought that it was the role of the communicator to make sure that the receiver understood what it was that "she*" was trying to communicate.

I don't normally go grocery shopping, but I wanted some turkey bacon so I asked my wife to pick up a package the next time she went to the grocery store. Her reply was "If you want it, go to the store and get it yourself." I somehow had no problem understanding that communication.

What I didn't understand were two items that the store had for sale.

The first item was a package of rice. The box said "Instant Rice, ready in five minutes." Which is it? Instant or five minutes? How long is an instant? A car accident happens in an instant. Lightning happens in an instant. A three-minute hard-boiled egg takes forever. So I figure it will take me a lifetime to get that bowl of rice. I'm sure the woman who wrote that ad copy must really enjoy life if five minutes goes by like an instant.

The second item was for 12 packs of a well-known cola product. I'm sure it wasn't the fault of the cola company that that this sign was posted for the sale. I'm confused about what she meant when she posted this sign. The sign said "Cola, 5 for $10, limit 4." Am I allowed to by four cases? Can I buy five cases and pay regular price for the last one? Can I buy four cases and get a rain check for the last one? Will I get arrested if I take a fifth case out of the store?

I'm really confused right now. Maybe I'll just buy the rice and only cook it for four minutes.

* The use of the term "she" is not meant to be sexist. I only use it here because women always confuse me.

Truth In Advertising or Lousy Labeling

2004-08-11T14:44:00.000-04:00

I’m not one to have the government enter our lives and tell us what we should and shouldn’t do or know or shouldn’t know, but I think there is a need for the government to impose truth in labeling, especially on packages of …………toilet tissue!

Recently I had an occasion to sit down and take a load off when I realized that I didn’t have anything to read. I was desperate to find something to quench my thirst for knowledge. What I found was a toilet tissue package.

I was amazed by the claims made by the manufacturers of this product. Soft, strong, lasts longer, 100 sheets per roll?

Let’s take these claims one at a time.

Soft, of course toilet tissue is soft. That’s why we don’t go to Home Depot to buy it. If it was sold by Home Depot, it would be rated like sandpaper. “I’ll have some of that 40 grit toilet tissue.”

Lasts longer? I don’t care what it’s made of, would you use it for more than one
(s)wipe!

100 sheets per roll? Do I have any volunteers to count a roll of toilet tissue? I think not. If you did count it, do you think you could roll it back on the roll the way it was when you started? Probably not. And if you did count it and you had only 99 sheets, could you return it and get your money back? You could say to the store clerk "honest, I didn't use it." Would he or she believe you? Do you think he or she would be able to tell?

I’m going to write a letter to the government and ask them to have the toilet tissue manufacturers put truthful labels on the toilet tissue. Or maybe just directions that say “use once and discard.”

Recycled Thoughts

2004-07-16T11:04:00.000-04:00

Remember the days when we used to have trash pickup twice a week? Now we have trash pickup once a week. The other day of the week is reserved for papers or bottles and cans. This came out of the recycling era where it was decided that we can use stuff over again and it will be better for the environment.

I happen to know that they don't do anything different with the cans and papers than they do with the regular trash. Bottles, cans, paper and trash all go to the same landfill. How do I know this you ask? I know this is a fact because I saw it on 60 Minutes. Those recycled anchor people had a hidden camera that followed refuse companies around for weeks and found that everything collected went to the same place.

What bothers me is when I go into a restaurant and see a note proudly displayed on the napkin that it was "made from recycled paper." What is the meaning of that? It gives me chills when I'm about to wipe my mouth and spot a dark fleck on the napkin. What could that be? Uh huh, I knew it. Someone picked their nose and that got recycled too!

Another thing along the lines of this trash issue that infuriates me is people who use clear trash bags instead of green trash bags or trashcans. I'm really not that interested in their personal lives that I need to see what's in their trash but they make it far to easy for me to see when they use clear bags.

When I see what's in the bag things start running through my mind. I see a lawsuit coming because it appears that one neighbor eats junk food for every meal.

I know that people like to take good care of themselves but one neighbor always has boxes and boxes and boxes of feminine hygiene products adorning the clear trash bag. I don't mind the fact that certain items need to be thrown away, but darn it, the guy lives alone.

When I see the boxes for feminine sanitary napkins I get that same chill, I hope they aren't recycled too.

RWR

2004-06-11T08:08:00.000-04:00

Ronald Wilson Reagan, may God bless you and your family.

FREE, FREE, FREE!!!

2004-06-07T10:56:00.000-04:00

I was away this weekend attending a social engagement.

I stayed in a well know hotel chain. I won’t mention the name, but rest assured, I have nothing negative to report about my stay at this hotel.

This hotel offered lots of FREE amenities such as FREE local telephone calls, FREE complimentary breakfast and a FREE ironing board.

FREE locals telephone calls saved me a bundle because I was visiting my sister and her family. I picked up the telephone many times to talk to her, her husband and her kids. That saved me mucho coin.

Also available was a FREE continental breakfast. It was the best continental breakfast that I’ve seen in years. Usually, a continental breakfast consists of coffee, tea, donuts, orange juice (pulp free, I want my maximum daily requirement of pulp.) The FREE breakfast at this hotel offered orange juice (with pulp), coffee, tea, bagels, danish, biscuits, scrambled eggs and sausage. It was delicious. Only a fool could walk away hungry from this breakfast bar.

They also offered FREE copying service. I had to leave a set of directions for another guest at the hotel so she could get to the reception hall. I was expecting a bill of $5.00 to be added to my bill when I checked out for a single copy. To my surprise, the desk clerk said “here, this is compliments of the hotel.” WOW. I was really surprised that in the days of being charged an arm and a leg to use ATM machines, that the hotel would extend that service to a guest.

Another thing that was FREE was an ironing board in my room. The only problem was that I couldn’t take it home because my luggage took up all the room in my car. The next time I visit that hotel I’ll take less luggage so I can take advantage of the FREE ironing board.

Take Two Asprins and Call Me In the Morning

2004-04-29T19:40:00.000-04:00

As I'm lying in the hospital bed under the influence of Demoral, real life and fantasy life seem to merge. The room is swirling around me as I'm watching television. The closed captioning is set to "ON" so I'm reading as I'm listening which at this point proves to be really difficult. The closed caption says ~~~phone ringing~~~. Oddly, I think I hear my phone ringing. The room is swirling more quickly now. So I look at the phone with squinting eyes. I'm really concentrating. Is the phone ringing? I look at the TV screen and it still says ~~~phone ringing~~~. I look back at the phone and I hear ringing. I look at the TV screen and the text is replaced by normal conversation. Was the phone really ringing? Did someone actually want to talk to me? I don't know.

Several other things happened this week that made me think that reality and fantasy are converging. Since my recuperation requires that I watch as many hours of television as posssible, I have been watching some of my old favorites. One of the shows I enjoyed as a kid was "Green Acres." Green Acres had a character named Hank Kimball. Mr. Kimball was never sure of anything. Oliver Douglas, played by Eddie Albert, would say to Mr. Kimball, "Great day isn't it Mr. Kimball?"

Mr. Kimball's response? "Yes, it's a great day. Well, it's not a great day, but a fine day. Well, maybe it isn't a fine day a but a good day...."

I'm now catching up on the news as I'm half-asleep. And what do I see and hear? I hear John Kerry in a confrontation with Good Morning America's Charlie Gibson. Kerry is sounding much like Hank Kimball while Charlie Gibson sounds like Mr. Douglas. Seeing Gibson challenging Kerry about throwing some medals over a fence in 1971 soon after his return from the Viet Nam War was like watching a scene right out of the show.

Gibson says "I was there, I saw you throw your medals over the fence."

Kerry retorted, "You did not see me throw my medals, I didn't throw my medals over the wall, I threw ribbons. Ribbons are not medals. Ribbons are the same as medals. And they weren't my medals. They were someone else's medals. And you didn't see me do it."

I'm thinking I'm getting back to normal but now I hear that on Barbara Walters' 20/20 there is going to be a reality segment. There will be five couples vying for a chance to adopt a baby. Please tell me I'm still dreaming. I don't know what format this show will take but I have a few ideas:

The baby will have the prospective parents go through several challenges which will include which schools he will attend, how the college fund will be financed, the location of the summer homes, access to famous athletes and professional games, what job will be secured for the little tyke upon college graduation, new cars every year once he reaches the age at which he can drive, vacations and weekly allowances and how big is the trust fund?

Barbara Walters will then confide with the child to vote out a set of parents from the maternity ward until the best set of parents is selected. And hopefully, one will be a male and the other a.....

Well anyway, now that I'm getting back to semi-normal, I'm looking forward to the bifurcation between fantasy and reality.

This Blog Brought To You By...

2004-04-13T12:04:00.000-04:00

If you’re like me, and watch TV, you have no doubt noticed that a lot of shows have sponsors that pay for certain segments of the shows. This is especially true in sports programming. Major League Baseball has the “Rolaids Relief Pitcher of the Game” and the “Nextel Call to the Bullpen.” The National Football League has the “Timex Two Minute Warning.” And, the NCAA Basketball Championship has “Cingular at the Half.”

From studying how much money is generated from these sponsored segments, I decided to open my life to advertisers and let them sponsor my moments during the day.

Here are a few ideas so I can take advantage of that cash cow:

Entering the bathroom, “This bathroom moment brought to you by Charmin. Please, Don’t squeeze the Charmin.”

Shaving before getting dressed in the morning, “This moment brought to you by Remington, I liked it so much I bought the company.”

After a workout, “This workout moment brought to you by Sure, raise your hand if you're Sure.”

As I’m being presented with a sexual harassment suit, “This sexual harassment suit brought to you by AT&T, Reach out and touch someone.”

Checking the stock pages, “When EF Hutton speaks, everybody listens.”

Driving to work in my jalopy, “This moment brought to you by John Deere, nothing runs like a Deere.”

Sending my taxes to the IRS on April 14th , “This taxing moment brought to you by Hallmark. When you care enough to send the very best.”

After punching my boss in the nose for a bad performance appraisal, “This violent moment brought to you by FTD, say it with flowers.”

Attending an upscale wedding reception, This moment brought to you by Polaner, can you please pass the jelly?”

Having a cold refreshing afternoon beverage, “This refreshing afternoon beverage moment brought to you by Pepsi Cola, Lipsmackin' thirstquenchin' acetastin' motivatin' goodbuzzin' cooltalkin' highwalkin' fastlivin' evergivin' coolfizzin' Pepsi.”

At lunchtime, “This lunch break brought to you by Subway, eat fresh!”

When exchanging automobile accident information, “This accident brought to you by Allstate, you’re in good hands with Allstate.”

Making a purchase on eBay, “This purchase brought to you by Visa, it’s everywhere you want to be.”

Watching Phil Mickelson win the 2004 Masters, “This moment brought to you by the PGA, these guys are good.”

After too many ice cold malt beverages, “This drinking moment brought to you by Bounty, the quicker picker upper.”

Getting ready for bed, “This sleepy moment brought to you by The Clapper, clap on, clap off, clap on clap off, the clapper!”

Going to sleep for the evening, “This going to sleep moment brought to you by Sominex.”

“Taking digital pictures with my Nikon 4300, $439
Having a top of the line Dell notebook computer to view my photos, $2,700.
Having advertisers sponsor every moment of my life, priceless!”

As of this moment, I am accepting proposals from advertisers who would like to sponsor my every movement. Of course "This advertising moment is brought to you by Prostitution, the oldest business in the world."

One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure

2004-04-04T20:47:00.000-04:00

What was the hardest thing for you to throw away? Was it old pictures that you didn't want anymore? Was it storage boxes that you thought you might need at some other time? Was is something that broke that you thought that might come in handy later on?

What's even more surprising is when you finally get the courage to throw something away, it turns up again stirring up those old feelings again.

A few weeks ago, I was in a similar predicament. I went to throw a trash can away. Since it was a trash can, I thought I would put some trash in it and the garbage men, or shall I say, waste refusal staff, would pick up the trash can and throw it in the truck.

When I pulled into the driveway after work, I saw our regular trash cans and the one that I wanted to dispose of was sitting empty next to the other cans. Why didn't they take it? I pondered this for a while. I thought about it for a while and decided that the next trash day I wouldn't put anything in the can and leave it with the others.

When I pulled into the driveway what did I find? Again, I found the regular trash cans and the one that was intended to go on a hike to the landfill.

What was the solution? I wrote a note to attach to the can. The next trash day I taped the note to the can that said "TRASH." Later that day I pulled up in the driveway again only to find the can was still there. I guess the trash men thought I labelled the trash can "trash" so people would know that it wasn't to be used for anything other than trash. I guess if I marked it trash, people wouldn't think it could be used for recycled paper.

I'm now a month into trying to get rid of this trash can. So here's how I finally got rid of it. I wrote a note on a piece of paper appealing to the nobler motives of the sanitary engineers. It said "dear sir or madam , being sensitive to the fact that it could be a woman picking up the trash, I have used this trash can for many, many years. I feel that I have gotten the most use out of it could possibly get and that I thought it would be nice if I let that can have a new home."

When I pulled up in the driveway I looked to see if the can was still there. Thankfully it was gone. This wasn't the end of the story.

There was a note on my door as I entered the house. It said "I've admired that trash can for several weeks. I didn't want to take it because I thought you were still using it and I didn't want you to think it was stolen. I'm glad to let you know that my wife loves the can for two reasons. One is it is the right size for the kitchen, and, two, it matches our kitchen wallpaper. Thanks so much!"

I was surprised when I read that note. When I said I wanted it to have a good home, I just thought the landfill would be a good home and that's where it would end its journey.

This only goes to prove that one man's trash can is another man's treasure.

Food Tasting By Syllable

2004-03-13T16:01:00.000-05:00

Did you ever find anything about yourself that when it revealed itself, you were really surprised. I mean something that was from out in left field. That one thing that you really never considered, never paid any attention to, but one day a complete understanding about some issue came into complete focus? A few years ago I had such an epiphany.

All my life I had been a finicky eater, only eating certain foods and not willing to try others.

After a workout at the gym, Charlie and I headed to a restaurant that I hadn't visited before. We were looking at the menu and he made a few suggestions. I sounded like a broken record saying "nope, don't like it" to each recommendation. He began to sound like my mother nagging me saying "How do you know you don't like, did you ever try it?" After several minutes of quizzing me on menu entries, it suddenly occured to me that I don't eat foods of which I don't like the names.

At that moment in I fell into a stupor. I began thinking of all the foods I had never tasted because I had been so closed minded. I vowed to myself that from that moment on, I would be open minded and try foods that I hadn't tried before.

It's been a considerable period time since that visit to that tantalizing restaurant. I've since tempted my palatte with new variations of vittles, but, there is some chuck wagon chow that I still won't try because of the names:

Beets, sounds like beats, reminds me of a prison beating, and the fact that they are the color of blood doesn't help.

Squash, sqash is a verb. Squash sounds like something you do to a food, rather than the name of a food.

Pot roast, is that a side of beef that just got high?

Broccoli. This sounds like throw up to me.

Rump roast, I think that's when you get your butt kicked and people talk about it.

"Fried" mushrooms, a food with a mental problem.

Zuchinni, I refuse to eat dead magicians?

You get the idea. I don't know where these ideas came from, how I carried them with me for as long as I did, but I can tell you one thing, I'm going to finish this blog entry and get something to eat, but it probably won't be quiche. It just doesn't have that melt in your mouth sound. That's a grown up attitude, isn't it?

Dreams of Grandeur

2004-02-24T22:52:00.000-05:00

Did you ever have one of those dreams that when you woke up you couldn't figure out how all of these things appeared in the same dream?

I had that very dream the other night and I think I have to blame it on the dessert I had after dinner. I had strawberry ice cream with black olives, beef gravy and whipped cream. It's been a family favorite for many years. I enjoyed my carefully prepared dessert while I was watching the newest business reality show "The Apprentice." That's the show where young business tycoons go through a 13 week job interview with the "Donald." Donald Trump. The "applicants" are assigned tasks each week and at the end of every show someone gets fired. The firings continue until there is one surviving applicant. After the grueling 13 week reality show/interview, the winner gets to run one of Trump's companies for a year at the salary of $250,000.

I had headed to bed right after the show and didn't give my super dooper sundae a chance to digest.

I was intensely inspired by what I had seen on Mr. Trumps show that in my dream I found myself in the middle of his show. My task was to give an inspirational speech Madison Square Garden on the successful relationship principles of James "I Feel Good" Brown. Just to set a benchmark, me trying to give an inpirational speech is like Wierd Al trying to sing a ballad.

I arrived at MSG, got out of the limousine and plunged into a crushing crowd. People were screaming and yelling so loud that I couldn't hear myself think. People were begging for autographs as I walked by. Leading me into the Arena was my chief of security, Liza Minelli.

Once inside the crowd went wild. They charged the stage. New York's finest formed a blue line that protected me from the oncoming throngs of fans. After 90 minutes of massive inspiration and sharing my pearls of wisdom, I left feeling exhilarated having never accomplished a huge feat like this before. I was ushered off the stage where I was interviewed by Catie Couric.

Donald told me to meet him in the boardroom. When he invites you to the boardroom, your longevity is coming to a rapid end. I walked in to the boardroom and he told me to be seated. Mr. Trump was surrounded by his lieutenants John Kerry and John Edwards. Mr. Trump asked John Edwards what he thought about my performance. He said "with that accent I thought he would have done much better." Trump then turned to John Kerry and asked what he thought, but I don't have time to chronicle Mr. Kerry's entire response here.

I felt like I was fighting for my life. I told Mr. Trump that "I already gave the best that I could and I have no regrets at all." He was so shocked by my statement that his combover almost lost its composure. He read me the riot act and I stared him down. He finally did the deed. He bellowed "you're FIRED......" Just as he said the word fired, I sat up straigt in my bed with sweat pouring down my face and thought "if going out on a limb worked for William Hung, it can work for me." I learned that if you are willing to take risks, doors will continue to open for you. Now all I need is a few ideas.

I've got to go prepare another sundae!

Nothing Lasts Forever, Not Even Love

2004-02-15T00:16:00.000-05:00

You may find this hard to believe, but I do know a few famous people.

I'll share with you one friendship that I had with a famous couple.

I found out about their unfortunate incident, not from a phone call but from a television news report. I was devastated. It was almost like a young George Foreman had punched me in the gut. A hollow feeling came me like I've never felt before. It's scandalous that this couple should meet this fate. After all, they were part of the lives of millions of people. My immediate response was to call them, but I couldn't. I wouldn't know what to say if they answered the phone. I said to my wife "maybe we should visit them." She said that probably wasn't a good idea because they need to work this out themselves.

I met her a little more than 40 years ago and I met him shortly after that. I remember when I used to watch them gaze into each other's eyes for hours at a time. For years they were inseparable. They belong together like peanut butter and jelly, bacon and eggs, and Sodium and Chloride.

They decided to split up and go their separate ways. What could have come between them? I thought to myself, "was he going through a mid life crisis? Was she secretly seeing another man?"

Over the course of years they lived the good life. They wanted for nothing. That had fancy sports cars, motorcycles, several mansions, and homes around the world. The were fashion trendsetters. They truly lived a charmed life. They defined the meaning of the American Dream. Everyone I know was envious of their relationship.

I'm sorry to see this couple split up because they've been role models for many people over the years. But alas, I must realize that no one "can put Humpty Dumpty back together again." If they are to get back together they must do it on their own terms.

On this day, the day after Valentine's day, I'm left to pick up the pieces, move on and look to the future and wish them nothing but the best.

Barbie and Ken, I hope you can work things out between you. If not, we wish you the very best in the future. (Whimper)

Timberlake Unleashes A Weapon of Mass Ventilation

2004-02-08T16:11:00.000-05:00

Last week our living rooms were invaded by not only the usual violence of the Superbowl but "Shock and Awe." The shock and awe, of course, is what happened during the half-time show. The exposing of Janet Jackson's almost football sized mammary.

There have been cries that we need an investigation. I agree. Why you ask? The intent I believe, is that both breasts should have been exposed. But only because that outfit was made in an offshore sweatshop employing young children working 20 hours a day, did we have what Justin Timberlake called "a wardrobe malfunction." Did you see the disappointment on his face when only one breast was exposed?

It's been said that there should have been an expectation of what would happen during the half time extravaganza. Everyone from the president of CBS and the NFL commissioner said they watched the rehearsals all week long and there was no indication of what would soon be the talk of the superbowl. After all, the half time show was produced by MTV! Just watch MTV for a few minutes. You'll observe scantily clad young ladies and men grabbing their crotches. And all this time I thought crotch grabbing was only allowed in Major League Baseball. If you've watched MTV, you don't have to be Albert Einstien or Isaac Newton to figure out what kind of raunch would be on display. Why didn't anyone see this coming? George Tenent, Director of the CIA, blamed it on the CIA's lack of resources. He said "we didn't have enough human intelligence on the ground."

Watergate types of questions are being asked because no one believes CBS' denials. "When did CBS know and when did they know it? "

As bad as this incident appears to be, could it have been worse? We've only begun to uncover the possibilities. Let's play what if.

What if were a different female? Brittany Spears would have generated more gossip because of her past relationship with Justin. If it were Calista Flockhart, we would have been talking about her eating disorder again.

What if the male in this duo would have been R. Kelly instead of Justin? Let's not even entertain that possibility.

What if the National Organization of Women voiced a protest about the ripping off of a woman's clothing? They've been suspiciously quiet during the past week.

What if the National Football League did have prior knowledge of what was going to happen? Could it be possible that they actually shared the technology with Janet Jackson? After all, the NFL did allow the use of the tear-away jersey for many years.

What if Victoria's Secrets starts marketing the Justin Timberlake Tear Away Teddy? Right or left models available. Accoutrement sold separately.

What would have happened if Ms. Jackson would have been stopped at the airport going through the metal detector? Would her Chinese Throwing Star have been confiscated?

What if in future football games we replaced the coin flip with the "ripping of the blouse?" Team captains would make their choice "right" or "left." This would give a whole new meaning to the referee's statement "call it in the air."

What if we go back to real entertainment that we knew in Superbowls past? On this day, the 40th anniversary of the Beatles appearing on the Ed Sullivan Show, I guess I'm asking too much.

The Death of Common Sense

2004-01-31T10:50:00.000-05:00

About 25 years ago, I worked for a man who once told me that "common sense ain't so common." I know he borrowed the quote, but forgive me because I dont' recall who said it. And, I'm too tired to do a Google to find out right now. Anyway, I'll spare you the boring story about how he came to tell me that but I'll bore you with an observation that I made recently at the "fillin' station" as Gomer and Goober would call it.

Maryland has a law that says if a person wants to smoke then they must go outside the building.

Interestingly enough, gas stations with minimarts fall under the same statute. I was at the gasoline/minimart station last Saturday morning getting the obligatory fill-up for the weekend's events. It was cold and I was all bundled up. I don't know why, but when it's cold out gasoline fumes have a more caustic redolence. As I was enjoying the smell of the gas wafting to my nostrils, I noticed one of the workers in the minimart walked outside with only a tee-shirt. Did I mention it was about 20 degrees here last weekend?

He then plucks a cigarette from his ear and pulls out a lighter from his pocket and lights up. YIKES! We've seen the damage that static electricity from cell phones causes while people pump gas. Why would we force people closer to highly flammable gas pumps with mini torches?

We're not talking about mixing two parts Hydrogen and one part Oxygen! We're not trying to sove the problem about who accidentally put the peanut butter in the chocolate! We're talking about vaporizing the corner of 1st and Main streets with only the strike of a match.

If I had to choose, I would rather be subjected to a few minutes of second hand smoke than a first hand explosion.

Is it me or am I not using common sense?

Just how lazy can people get?

2004-01-16T15:31:00.000-05:00

At work if someone says that there is a piece of birthday cake waiting for you down the hall, people will drop everything and, in a cloud of dust, they are on their way to get a plateful of sugary calories. But if a little effort is needed to accomplish a task, no one wants to play.

I was in a meeting this morning with some people and they told me they wanted the web page to order the entries in a certain way. Naturally, I just had to ask why they preferred that way. I was expecting to hear a logical reason for their request. But I was greeted with logic that I’ve never heard before and probably never hear again, at least I hope not.

“Let’s order the entries by putting the latest entry at the top of the web page.” That sounded reasonable enough until I heard the reason behind it. “We want it that way because if we put the newest entry on the bottom we’ll have to scroll all the way down to the end of the page.”

So here I am thinking. The appointed time to go home arrives, you can fire a cannon in the building and no one will get hurt. They run for a piece of cake. They run to participate in spreading gossip about who has been hired and fired. But ask them to hold the left mouse button for three to four seconds, and you are almost asking for a grievance to be file against you.

These probably are the same people who complain about gaining weight around the holidays and can’t figure out why. They are probably the same people who get ticked off because the morning newspaper didn’t arrive at the exact spot on their porch. And these are probably the same people that use the treadmill as a giant hanger.

If they had to scroll down to the bottom of a page to read about Ryan and Trista’s wedding, you’d bet they would do that. So how ‘bout it folks, put your index finger on the left mouse button, you are looking at the screen anyway and you’ll probably find time to screw off during the day anyway.

Football Food?

2004-01-02T11:35:00.000-05:00

It’s around New Year’s time and what comes to your mind? Well to my mind comes FOOTBALL. We have the Orange Bowl, Rose Bowl, and the Alamo Bowl. Then there is the Fiesta Bowl, Gator Bowl, Sonic Bowl, and Sugar Bowl. Strap yourself in for the Tangerine Bowl, Houston Bowl, Hula Bowl, Motor City Bowl, Music City Bowl, Sun Bowl, Liberty Bowl, Peach Bowl, Cotton Bowl, Silicon Valley Football Classic, Independence Bowl and finally the Super Bowl.

Without going into the calculations, which I don’t understand anyway, it takes about 1,050 cows to supply the National Football League (NFL) with footballs for one year. Each home team must supply an average of 30 footballs for each game.

Just think about what the NFL does for the nation’s economy! Something has to be done with the cows after they donate their skins and become Sunday’s All-Stars. These cows provide tons of Short Ribs, T-bones, Corned Beef, Briskets, Rump Roasts, Round Steaks, and Rib Eyes. They also provide the main ingredient in steak subs that you have delivered to your door during half time.

Then you have to have something to drink, not to mention the side orders of cole slaw and potato salad that your local grocer provides.

By now you’ve probably considered the different types of meat dishes and side dishes that can be made because of the sacrifices made by the 1,000+ cows. So for me, and maybe you too, the NFL means New Food List.

It's Not Always What It Seems!

2003-12-20T22:50:00.000-05:00

The minute you think you've seen everything something else pops up leaving you shaking your head. In certain situations you kind of know what the person is going to say. Your anticipation will make you believe certain things based on certain situation at hand.

Two days ago I was in the local home remodling store. I was looking for some PVC pipe. I happened to be rounding the aisle when I see a gentleman (and I use this term loosely and with no respect) ask one of the store representatives a question.

What I thougt I heard the man say was "can you tell me where the bathroom fixtures are?" The response from the person was "two aisles down to the left." I overheard this response and it made sense to me being that I had just passed that area.

The so-called gentleman thanked the representative and dashed off to that part of the store. I thought "he must be in a big hurry. He must have an important deadline.

I had selected the three pieces of PVC pipe that I needed. Remembering that I had to look for a lamp, I decided to go back to the electrical section of the store. To get there I had to pass the bathroom fixture section.

To my horror and dismay and to the horror and dismay of the 20 or so people standing there horrified, there was the "gentleman", relieving himself using one of the display toilets in the middle of the bathroom fixture section. Everyone there was motionless and speechless.

The next thing we knew, he was gone and we were left shaking our heads.

With what I had just witnessed, I asked myself what was it I heard the man ask the sales representative?

The answer: I dunno. Lesson learned: I'm always surprised at the resourcefullness of others.

"The Simple Life" Revisited

2003-12-03T21:45:00.000-05:00

I was channel surfing last night when I stumbled upon "The Simple Life" and watched it for about two minutes. That was probably one minute and forty-five seconds too long, but it made me think. The show is about two girls who have everything but have been thrown into a situation where they have do actual work for what they want. So I began to think about those of us who lead the simple life and want to act like we have everything.

Here are a few suggestions that will make you feel like a millionaire, or at least a thousandaire:

1. Pull into a parking lot with your old car and deliberately leave your lights on when you leave the car and everyone will think they will go out on their own. Be sure to sneak out to the car and turn the lights out so you don't have to buy a new battery later that day.

2. Take an empty cigarette pack and wrap it in aluminum foil. Paste a piece of black construction paper the size of a quarter on the front. Walk up and down the street putting it up to your face for a second or two each time. People will think you have one of those new-fangled digital cameras.

3. Go to the video store and ask the people in the store, "do you think this DVD will work with my HDTV?"

4. Tell every person that you see, "I think my Hummer would have fit in this spot."

5. When someone asks why you didn't get back to them sooner, simply say "I'm sorry, I must have misplaced my Blackberry."

So, there are a few suggestions that you can have fun with in the next few days. If you have some other ideas, let me know because I'm bored talking into my Timex making people think that I have the latest in Dick Tracy two way radios.

Hullo!

2003-11-17T17:52:00.000-05:00

Has this ever happened to you?

I was having a conversation with someone when their cell phone rang blaring one of those zippy little MTV tunes. The person looks at the cell phone and proclaims to everyone in the immediate zipcode, "Oh, I'm getting a call from my brother who lives in Arizona! I love it when I see the eyes roll of some of the other observers.

Because I wanted to be courteous, I said, "Go ahead and take the call."

Then the person answers the phone and says, "Good Afternoon, this is Bob Butler." A couple of things bother me about the way he answered hisphone. Bob's brother knew who he was calling. Bob's brother also knew that his phone number would show up on the called ID screen as the phone rang. And Bob certainly knew it was his brother.

So why would Bob answer the phone this way? Is he impressing me that he is answering a business call? Not after he told me it was his brother. Is he trying to impress himself that he got his first phone call of the day? Was he trying to impress his brother making him think he really didn't pay attention to the called ID?

Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt that he answered the phone that way out of habit. I have sometimes done that. I have answered my home phone the way I would at work, but only after I drifted off to sleep for a few minutes and was awakened out of a sound sleep. Or maybe he thougt the call was going to be monitored for quality control purposes.

To me life seems to be getting too complicated. Maybe each of us can do our part to make life easier by just saying "hello!"

Let's Talk About Something That REALLY Matters

2003-11-07T19:51:00.000-05:00

Now I’m over it. I can talk about it now. I have to admit for days I walked around in a stupor and couldn’t understand how something like this could happen. I should have seen it coming. But I didn’t. Maybe now with this incident behind me maybe I’ll see it coming the next time and won’t be blindsided like I was this week.

To what am I referring? Politics. Unfortunately, politics finds a way to put a cloud over everything. Remember when George 41 ran against Bill Clinton? Do you remember the spoiler in that race? Ross Perot! Ross Perot ran for president of the United States. He split the vote, which allowed Bill Clinton to become the chief executive of the country.

Politics even shows its ugly hand in voting for the Major League Baseball All-Star Game. We see players in the All-Star game who have obviously had better years but they were voted to the team because of past performance and sentimental reasons. We don’t get to see the players that really deserve to be there.

But I’m not talking about something as insignificant as a presidential election or baseball’s national pasttime. I’m talking about something truly meaningful. I’m talking about the “Country Entertainer of the Year.” Yes, that’s right, the “Country Entertainer of the Year!”

This week Alan Jackson was presented with the Entertainer of the Year Award. Now don’t get me wrong. I think Alan Jackson is great and I was glad to see him receive some of the awards that he won this year. But I think he won because he split the vote between Toby Keith and Kenny Chesney. Toby and Kenny were the faces of country music this year but Alan won because of the sentimentality and all of the great music he wrote, composed and performed in the past. Looking at his face when his name was announced, I believe he thought it was a mistake that he won the award.

Kenny Chesney feels like he isn’t “The Good Stuff” any more and Toby Keith could probably be found drinking at a bar he loves saying to himself “How Do You Like Me Now?” Now I’m going to have a drink because I’m sure “It’s Five O’clock Somewhere!”

Check in again for my next societal shaping opinion.

Film at Eleven! Ain’t What It Should Be!

2003-10-31T11:29:00.000-05:00

Remember the days when the deep voiced announcer would break into your favorite television show and say something like “a car jumps the curb and plows into the kitchen of neighbor’s house. Film at eleven.”

We would tune in at 11:00 to hopefully see the accident in progress. The reporter, in a forced staccato delivery, would say the same thing that the announcer said during the tease. And what would we see? We were treated to a “LIVE” shot from a cameraman who had to use a zoom lens on his zoom lens because he was kept behind the yellow tape which was four blocks from where the accident occurred. From that shot the reporter directs the cameraman to turn and show the curb over which the car jumped. Is this curb supposed to look different than any other curb in any other neighborhood?

With the improvement in technology, we have video cameras everywhere. They’re at intersections, in police cars, in parking lots and in banks. We are promised to see things “as they happen!” in that Cronkite-like voice (if you don’t know who Walter Cronkite is, go ask your parents.) We hear the same shtick from the announcer as he implores us to watch. “An accident at Pine and Walnut and we have the exclusive video.” How is it “exclusive” when every local news station has it? But I digress. So at 11:00 we turn to the local news channel because everyone knows the family who lives at Pine and Walnut. We watch intently. We see two cars approaching each other and then… and then… then… just before the cars collide, the picture freezes, gets very pinkish, the picture tilts from side to side and then large black bars fill the screen. We never actually see the collision.

I’m not advocating that we be treated to an exhibition of blood and guts, but for Pete’s sake, if you tell me that’s what I’m going to see, show me, I want to see it.

Back to the film. After you see it four or five times, then they show it in slow motion. Then they decide to zoom in to the supposed point of impact. Is it my TV or what? All I see on my TV screen is about a dozen blocks in various shades of gray shifting and pulsing in front of my eyes. There is no way I can see what happened. After I’ve watched three and a half minutes of this tape at various speeds and sizes, I couldn’t tell you what happened. I would be a horrible witness. They would probably throw me out of the courtroom. I think a NFL referee would be challenged to tell you what happened. Even he would tell you that there is not irrefutable evidence that an accident actually took place. His announcement would probably go something like this: “After reviewing the accident, there is not irrefutable evidence who caused the accident. The drivers will return to their cars and we will replay the accident.”

No, film at eleven ain’t what it should to be. It’s like a steak dinner, WITHOUT THE STEAK!

Let's Celebrate!

2003-10-24T11:26:00.000-04:00

This world is a world that celebrates “firsts.” We celebrate people’s accomplishments when they are the first to accomplish something special. If we don’t have a particular celebration for people in a timely manner, then they are celebrated at a later time when society finally recognizes that their accomplishment provided a great benefit to mankind.

Think of the following people; Charles Lindbergh, Li Qinglong, Jackie Robinson, Dr. Mary E. Walker, Rosa Parks, Mark Spitz, and Roger Bannister. You know some of these people. Roger Bannister was the first person to run the sub-four minute mile. Dr. Mary E. Walker the only woman of the Civil War to have been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. Mark Spitz was the first man to win seven gold medals in the Olympics. With a little research you can find out what benefits to society the others on the list have provided.

There is someone else I’d like to add to the list. Kirk Jones. You may have heard about Kirk Jones. He is the young man who was the first person, according to Canadian authorities, to plunge himself over Niagara Falls without any protective gear and not only lived to tell about it, he emerged unharmed. He is now going to face trial and subjected to a $10,000 fine. Now that’s not what I call a celebration for someone who has accomplished a “first.”

We need to look at what he’s done in another light. He could be the inspiration to car manufacturers. Maybe we’ve had this wrong all along. With as many injuries as we’ve had with air bags, maybe we need to think about water bags.

Maybe Mr. Jones is a frustrated cliff diver. He could be the inspiration for a new Olympic sport. Niagara Falls diving. Although it would be pretty hard to move the Niagara Falls from country to country, with four years in between the Olympics, we can work on that.

We also need to recognize his contributions to medical science. We know the fragility of the human body. We could learn how he walked away from his trip down the falls and help prevent future injury to the human body.

Or perhaps he is just doing research for the largest water park in the world which could be another first.

Instead of putting Kirk Jones on trial and making him fork over a huge fine, lets celebrate the fact that he was on the forefront of protecting the human species. If not now, lets celebrate later.

One of the Mysteries of Life

2003-10-17T10:18:00.000-04:00

I take the mass transit system to work. I arrive at the same time every morning to catch the train downtown. I've been working downtown since last century. The early '80's, the disco era to be exact.

Riding the train for so long has afforded me the opportunity to meet and get to know many people. We all come from different parts of town. We arrive at the platform at the exact same time, get in the same car, and most of the time, we even sit in the same seats. We've celebrated birthdays and anniversaries and also mourned the loss of loved ones. I guess you can say we are one big happy family.

On a normal day, I get on the train at exactly 7:01 a.m. for the wonderful ride downtown. But, as the saying goes, this wasn't going to be a "normal day."

On a normal day I get up about 5:20 a.m. and head out to the gym. Everything usually goes like clockwork. I'm in the car at 5:40 and in the pool at 6:01 to begin my morning workout.

However, this morning is different. Everything progresses normally until I go to enter the pool area. The door is locked. The lifeguard fiddles and plays with the lock until mercifully, she is able to get it open after fifteen minutes practically rubbing her fingers raw. When you are on a schedule you know that fifteen minutes can make a world of difference.

Once in the water, the swim goes without a hitch. And so does the obligatory shower so I don't offend my co-riders and co-workers.

More trouble ahead though. While driving to the train station, I approach the left turn lane at a busy intersection, I realize that I'm behind a rookie driver. The rookie driver takes two red light cycles to make the left turn. Tick, tick, tick…

Next obstacle, a garbage truck. On a narrow street I'm sitting in a line of cars impatiently waiting for the garbage truck to move to the side of the street. I'd like to find the law that states that a garbage truck must drive down the center of the street. Somehow the drivers of these trucks feel their trucks deserve emergency vehicle status. Tick, tick tick...

After finally after arriving at the train station somewhat alarmed, agitated and angered, I see a sight that ameliorated my consternation. This is up there with E=MC2. Maybe its karma, or perhaps its the alignment of the planets or maybe its by divine decree. Could it be something in the ether? To what is it that I am referring? Even though I was fifteen minutes late all of my train riders were late too! I don’t know how or why that happens, but I’m glad that it worked out that way and to me it will remain one of the mysteries of life.

Is It Better to Give Or Receive?

2003-10-10T09:42:00.000-04:00

I consider myself to be pretty good with computers. I'm well versed in many different software packages and operating systems. I can usually troubleshoot any problem and correct it in a very short period of time. Actually I thrive when problems arise because I learn a lot in the process. But, I need some help. I have to admit that I feel like a computer neophyte.

It's not like I can call a helpdesk to get the answer to this question.

I get lots of email that contain Macromedia Flash files. I watch them, replay them and send them on for others to enjoy. I really get a kick out of them because they are so funny, creative and some are just downright nasty. I really get excited when people call me and tell me that they are sending me a Flash file. I keep my email client open and refresh it constantly, looking for the file to show up in my non-metallic virtual post office box.

Here’s my problem. You've probably seen the television commercial from Adobe Acrobat promoting the “PDF” file. College students are seen sitting in an auditorium with boxes on their desks wrapped with a red bows. Then the scene cuts to the professor standing behind his desk with the same type of box wrapped with the same type of red bow. The voiceover says, “PDF, is it better to give a PDF or to receive one?” Each time I sit there pondering, “what is the fascination with the PDF?” I just don’t get it.

I own the full version of Acrobat which lets me create a PDFs. The PDF looks exactly like the original file that I started with and by looking at the computer screen, I don’t see any difference. There is nothing mystical or magical there. And, of course, I also receive PDFs. For the most part, when I open a PDF, I notice that it does open a little faster. But again, nothing mystical or magical happens.

Although I do send PDFs, I’ve yet to get that orgasmic thrill anywhere in the process of sending or receiving one of these little dittys. I would rather have that big box wrapped with the red bow. That, perhaps, would help with my anticipation of seeing what’s inside.

So, if you understand the commercials for the PDF, by all means, and I’m begging here, really begging, help me so I can understand it.

Is Life a TV Script, or is TV Life’s Script?

2003-10-03T14:02:00.000-04:00

Growing up in the suburbs was like living in “The Wonderful World of Disney.” We had great times and it was like living the “Life of Riley.”

At the age of five, I remember sitting in a cardboard box with a stick of wood attached to the front that acted like a propeller. We took many worldwide voyages in that little box because we sat glued to the TV studying the many lessons that were taught to us by “Rocky Jones.” Another of my favorite shows was “Sky King.” Not only was it about airplane travel but I had my first crush on the character named Penny.

In our early years, we lived the life of the “Young and the Restless.” We had so much energy that we would run the streets “24” hours a day. We were once pursued by “Adam-12” for throwing apples at passing cars. Fortunately, we avoided the “Dragnet.” Our parents would get us in our respective homes interrogating us demanding us “To Tell the Truth.”

We rode our bikes everywhere, from neighborhood to neighborhood. In my neighborhood, and probably yours too, there is a house that sits back away from the rest of the homes. Why were those homes always occupied by a family that has a close resemblance to the “Addams Family?”

We thought we were such a bad group of guys that people referred to us as the “A-Team.” Our biggest hope was that they would send “Charlie’s Angels” after us.

We had loads of kids in our neighborhood. We played baseball every morning during the summer and we had huge football games on Sundays in the winter. These were tough games. So much so, Sammy was in the “ER” at least once during every sports season and always twice or more during the football season. He even wound up there once when he fell off a chair while he imitated the oft seen skier on the opening of “the Wide World of Sports.”

Life really changed when we entered the work force. We went through several phases. The first phase was the “I Love Lucy” phase, just like the chocolate manufacturing episode, where we went to work just to make a few bucks and didn’t really care what happened. As we got older, I mean wiser, we played “Fear Factor” just trying to keep our jobs. “Survivor” was our next game trying to beat the world of corporate politics.

One of the shows we loved was “Hawaii Five-O.” We liked it because Steve McGarrett would solve the crime du jour and we thought we’d have a leg up on the local cops. That way we wouldn’t have to go through life being the “Fugitive.” We actually thought our local police department was just like “Barney Miller.” Larry actually became a member of the city police department’s “SWAT” team.

Now that I’m older and have lots of responsibilities I would like to have just “60 Minutes” to myself. At least I can take solace in the fact that in my house “Father Knows Best!”

I'm a Statistic!

2003-09-25T10:49:00.000-04:00

A few weeks back, I was contacted by Arbitron Ratings. I always dreamed about being selected by Arbitron Ratings so that I would have the power to influence the television viewing habits of millions of Americans.

The great news was that they wanted my household to participate in their weekly ratings poll. The not so great news was that my family was selected for the radio ratings instead of television ratings. But, that was OK for me since I don't watch that much television anyway.

Each person in my household received a diary. The diary consists of a daily matrix that is broken down into 15-minute increments. We were instructed to fill in the appropriate blocks with the radio station number or call letters that we listened to during that time period.

For me that was a pretty easy task. I listen to talk radio and I usually leave any given station on for two to three hours at a time. My wife listens to only one radio station so that was easy for her too.

The kids were another story, however. Kids these days drive with one hand on the wheel and the other hand either contains a cell phone or it is connected to the radio. I've even seen where some kids have a hand on the wheel, a hand on the radio and the cell phone wedged between the ear and their shoulder. But that’s a topic for another time though.

The kids and I went to breakfast last Saturday morning. I tried to be a good dad and fill in the ratings diary. But with one hand on the scan button, I couldn't keep up with the changes. 88.1.. 89.7.. 93.1.. 93.5.. 95.9.. 96.1.. 96.3.. 98.5.. 99.5.. 100.3.. 100.7.. 102.7.. 104.3.. 105.7.. 106.5.. 107.3. And all of this before the car was put in Drive! As you can imagine, I finally gave up.

On our jaunt to the restaurant, we didn't hear a complete song and we heard mostly commercials, and only snippets at that.

After being a part of the mind numbing exposure of listening to 36 stations in four seconds, I began to think. Is it about radio personalities? Is it about which station is most popular? Is it about the music? I finally determined that it's not about any of that. It's really about a conspiracy of how kids can drive their parents crazy in the shortest period of time.

An Eye(tooth) For An Eye(tooth)

2003-09-14T23:07:00.000-04:00

I arrived at Doc Smith’s office promptly at 2:45 PM. I went to have a cavity filled because I had lost the filling. Remind me to stay away from the candy apples.

Doc Smith led me into the office and invited me to have a seat in his chair. Why is it that the dentist has to put you in a chair that initially feels good but then turns it into a carnival ride gone bad? He turned me upside down and my feet are way above my head causing my saliva to collect on the roof of my mouth.

He reaches over and grabs a pair of rubber gloves. As he puts on the gloves and the sound reminded me of being back in the physician’s office when I heard “drop your drawers and bend over.” With that thought in mind, he then inserts a finger into my mouth and touches every square centimeter. The rubber gloves taste like pencil erasers. The taste reminded me of grammar school when I used to chew the erasers off of the top of the #2 pencils having them dissolve in my mouth leaving me with an ultra nauseous feeling.

I was under the impression that when you want a cavity filled, something would go in a tooth. Instead, he put a sharp pointy stick into my gum and shoved, dug and poked. It was as though he dug into the tooth with picks and axes that would make West Virginia coal miners jealous. All he was missing was hard hat with the search light on top of it. As Doc Smith continued his excavation, he bangs on my tooth with a balpene hammer. It had the tinny sound of steam forcing its way through the old radiator pipes. "Does this bother you?" the dentist asks quizzically.

"No, this happens to me every day!" I replied. "Of course it bothers me!!!" He continues to bang. After more banging he says "uh huh.", more banging, “uh huh, and more banging and a final “uh huh.” With a very concerned look on his face he then says to his assistant "ok, lets go in."

"Go in? Where?" I thought. I hear the sound of all of his tools clanging as he moves them within his grasp.

"Don't worry,” he says, "this won't hurt me a bit."

"Don't worry Doc, I wasn't thinking about you."

"You may want to look that way" he demands as he points to the far corner of the ceiling. He then sticks a needle in my gum that seemed to reach my inner ear canal. I felt like saying, "you may want to look over there" as I thought of jabbing my elbow into his family jewels. I thought better of that idea since he had many more sharp objects in his possession than I did at the moment.

At times he had most of the equipment he owned in my mouth. Inserted in my mouth was a sharp stick, a vacuum cleaner, a hair dryer and a glue gun. If that wasn’t enough he had his assistant jamming stuff in my mouth so tightly that when I breathed the only sound that could be heard was a high pitched whistle which seemed to summon several dachshunds, a shih tzu, a toy poodle and a basset hound.

Now that my mouth is completely full of his dental apparatus, he decides he would like to have a little conversation with me. As if he was a stockbroker he proclaims "it's good that the market went up today."

I mumbled some incomprehensible syllables. He said "pardon, I didn't hear what you said." It was clear in my mind what I said. "The only thing that is going up is my blood pressure. Shut up and hurry up."

I could tell he didn't hear or care what I had said. He continued to use a jackhammer on my bicuspid. After the smoke cleared, he mutters "we're almost finished." That would have been encouraging but it was the fifth time he said it. And who was the "we" he was referring to? I was the street and he was filling the potholes.

After 25 minutes of my face being twisted, pulled and turned, he announced “ok, were finished, how do we feel?” I looked and him as if to say “we?” I’m in pain and you are $145 richer. We aren’t doing so well.”

And then, almost as an afterthought he cautions me “don’t eat until the novocaine wears off. I don’t want you to have to come back because you bit your lip and caused it to bleed.” I thought to myself “Yeah, right. I came here for treatment and I’m leaving like I spent 10 rounds being pummeled by Oscar de la Hoya.”

“Don’t worry Doc. I’m not coming back!”

2003-09-11T00:07:00.000-04:00

Be back in a few. Taking care of parental health issues.

Spreading the Filth!

2003-09-03T12:51:00.000-04:00

Since I was a kid I’ve been taught to always wash my hands before leaving the restroom. I’ve worked in restaurants where you wouldn’t dare walk out of a restroom without thoroughly lathering up. Even radio and television news stories call attention to the dangers when preparing certain foods if your hands aren’t properly cleansed.

I was in the restroom last week where I was washing my hands when this guy comes out of one of the stalls. Since I was just about finished getting the soap off of my hands, I moved to an open spot so he could use the sink. Just then I hear the door open and he vanishes into thin air. Yuch! I’m not verminophobic nor do I suffer from mysophobia but thoughts began to swirl in my head. Is he going to hold hands with his significant other? How many of his friends is he going to see today and grace them with a handshake?

After a few moments of self imposed mental torture, I forgot all about the incident and headed over to the restaurant for dinner. I was about 40 feet from door of the restaurant when I couldn’t believe my eyes. Equidistant from me on the other side of the door of the restaurant was Guess Who? You’re right, Mr. Filthy Hands. I naturally assumed he was going to pass the restaurant and go to one of the other stores in the mall. Then the reality flashed into my mind. He’s heading right for it. Yes, he was heading right for the restaurant. (Click here to see my reaction.)

I felt as if I was in an old spaghetti western. We were walking towards each other at the same pace. In my mind I could hear the theme of “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly,” hear the faint clinking of spurs and see a piece of tumbleweed being blown down the street by the wind. I had to pick up my pace to beat him to the door. I certainly didn’t want to look like an idiot trying to get into the sandwich shop without using the door handle.

Ironically, my timing was impeccable. We reached the entrance at the very same instant. I reached for the door. He also reached for the door. I pulled my hand back quickly as if it were about to be bitten by an alligator. He opened the door, gestured and said “please, be my guest.” I gave him a huge “thank you” and went to the counter almost at a dead run. I ordered and received my meal, grabbed some napkins, sat down and began to eat. Mr. Filthy Hands sat about three tables over from me. I couldn’t help but look over at him occasionally and remember our previous encounter. I won’t share my thoughts here but believe me they weren’t pretty.

As I was driving to my next appointment I pondered just how fortunate I was to dodge that bullet. I tried to put out of my mind that I may be well on my way to having a full fledged case of verminophobia.

Al Bundy! Maybe, Maybe Not!

2003-08-28T22:31:00.000-04:00

This one inspired by MissCashier, ;-)

I sold shoes to work my way through college. When I tell people that I sold shoes, they think they are original in calling me Al Bundy. So I usually get to the "sole" of the matter by saying it before they do and leaving them feeling silly.

I wasn't a cashier per se, but I rang up my sales on the cash register. At that time we actually had to do math to count change. Oy, Now I'm feeling old.

When I went to college it wasn't anywhere near as costly as it is today. I had to make sure I made shoes literally "walk" out of the store to earn my commissions. I made a lot of money selling shoes. I earned so much that I had money left over after I paying for my tuition books. Thinking about it now, maybe I should get a second job selling shoes so I can pay for the school loans for my kids.

I wasn’t just an ordinary shoe salesman; I was a “fashion footwear consultant”. That had a better ring to it when I thought about touching those smelly, stinkin’ feet of some of our less than hygienically prepared customers.

Three things come to mind when I think about selling the podiatric implements.

One year, the manager of the store threw us a Christmas party, or shall I say in today’s politically correct environment, a holiday party. Mr. B had spent a little too much time imbibing himself before he made his way to the sales floor. He waited on a young child who just happened to have a hole in his sock. Mr. B proclaimed to the entire store “lookee here, we’ve got a blow out.” The mother of the child was so embarrassed by Mr. B’s behavior that she dragged the child out of the store without his shoes, old or new.

I had a PC (personal customer) enter the store. She told me that she wanted to try on a pair of patent leather boots that were displayed in the window. Knowing her as I did, I knew this was not going to be pretty. She always asked for a size smaller than she really needed and her calves were, shall I say “super sized.” Knowing that the customer is always right, I brought the boots for her to try. I put her foot in the boot. She wanted help zipping up the boot. I tried until my fingers became raw. She continued the near impossible task. After a few unbearable minutes, her hand flew at my face like a Mike Tyson punch. Luckily I was able to dodge that clenched fist before it grazed my eye. Looking down at the boot, I noticed she pulled the entire zipper from the body of the boot. She took off the boot, put in the box and said, “no thanks, I don’t think they fit.”

“Don’t think they fit! Hey Columbus, how long did it take you to make that discovery?”

A gentleman came up to the window to look at a pair of shoes. I walked out to him to see if I could provide any additional information and encourage him to try on the pair of shoes. I started to tell him that the shoe had a metal shank, arch support and that they were all leather, uppers and soles. He was very interested in the shoe and he bent down to get a closer, when just then, I heard a loud crack. The man banged his head on the window. He was standing right next to the window and didn't even see it. He developed a pretty good knot that was partly remedied by an ice pack. After I determined that he was ok, we had a good laugh and he had a new pair of shoes.

Sometimes I wonder why I left the retail business when I was provided with such great free entertainment.

You know you look like...

2003-08-21T12:13:00.000-04:00

I once told Margaret, a friend of mine, that she looked like Rita McPhilbie*. Personally, I think Rita McPhilbie is a very attractive singer of country folk songs. I thought that I would be passing on a compliment that she would be thrilled to hear. Was I shocked. "Shock and awe" didn't even begin to cover her extreme reaction. She said "Rita McPhilbie. She is hideous. She is soooooo ugly. She has those droopy eyes and a big chin and her hair. It's a mess." I thought Margaret would have picked up her phone and called everyone she knew and let them know that someone told her she looks like Rita McPhilbie.

After that experience I decided that I would never again tell someone that they look like a famous celeb. Now I know why.

I was on my way home from work one day last week. I exited the train station to the parking lot. It was a hot day so I opned the door, started the car and let the air conditioner cool the car for a few minutes. I waited outside so that it could reach a reasonable temperature before I attempted enter. A women walked over to her car, which happened to be parked next to mine. She stood there momentarily and stared directly at me. She said "did anyone tell you that you look like Norman Catilano**?

I thought "Norman Catilano? What's up with that?" I felt rage immediately! I felt like I had just been dealt the biggest insult of my life. Rage I tell you, rage! I wanted to lash out. I wanted to fire back "that big nose, those deep set eyes and... and... and... I have hair, he doesn't!" Suddenly it hit me. She thought she was giving me a compliment. I stared right back at her, flashed her my toothiest grin, got in my car and had a great laugh.

* Not her real name
** Not his real name, either

Run Arnold, Run?

2003-08-14T09:36:00.000-04:00

As the saying goes “only in America.” Only in America can a foreign born, naturalized citizen even think of delaring himself a candidate for an office running the 5th largest economy in the world.

Arnold Schwarzenegger announced last week that he is going to run for governor of the great state of California.

The lesson here is that if you want to change careers because you don’t like the way someone is performing their job just announce that you want the job. All you have to say is "I don't like the way you are doing your job and I want to take over!"

Picture this! You're sitting in the stands of your favorite football stadium. The quarterback fumbles the ball for a 10-yard loss. During the huddle you run onto the field, pat the QB on the butt and tell him "hit the pine pal, I don't like the way you are doing your job and I want to take over!" There you are standing on the field in all your nakedness, no helmet, no pads and no experience, but you can handle it.

How about this idea? Walk into a hospital, scrub up, put rubber gloves on, walk into the operating room and tell the brain surgeon "I don't like the way you are doing your job and I want to take over!" Just imagine the surgeon handing you the scalpel and scampering out of the operating room.

Maybe your favorite fantasy is to take over your boss’ job. You go to see him, blow by the secretary, kick the door open and say to your boss "I don't like the way you are doing your job and I want to take over!" Just be careful of this one when it comes time for your annual review, if you are still employed by then!

I know what you're thinking. "But LLO, I don't have the qualifications to do some of the jobs I'd really like to do." Fear not my friends. I know headhunters that offer the following advice: "Look for anything in your background that will help you qualify for the career in which you are interested."

Based on that criterion, let's look at the qualifications of two of the candidates running for California's governor, Arnold and Gary Coleman. Arnold's main qualification is that he married into a political dynasty and Gary Coleman used to be chauffeured around town in a limousine with Willis. Now there are two great resume builders.

I’m sure you can find some of those resume builders in your background. So go build your resume and take the dream job you’ve always wanted.

Whew! Now I feel better. Let's get back to work before someone decides to take our jobs!

Buy My Groceries, Please!

2003-08-06T19:50:00.000-04:00

During the days of the dot com craze I was loving life. At least the grocery shopping part of it. My favorite place not to be is the grocery store. Having my groceries delivered to my home was great. All I had to do was logon, fill out the order forms with the products I wanted, click enter and I was done. All that was left to do was sit back, put my feet up on the ottoman, look out my bay window and wait for the delivery truck to arrive with my order.

Now in the days after the demise of the online grocery stores, I'm left to fend for myself traversing the aisles of the stores that are the harbor of my sustenance.

I always begin in the produce section. How come just as I arrive at the produce aisle the automatic sprinkler begins spraying the vegetables to moisturize them. And why isn't the nozzle pointed at the fruits and vegetables instead of me? Especially when I go to pick up a few things and I'm wearing a suit. This must be the brainchild of the produce manager who sits behind the one-way mirrors in the produce department with his finger on the switch so he can begin spraying so people will not disturb his neatly stacked fruits and vegetables. Next time, I'll get even with him. I'm going to take a head of lettuce from the very bottom of the stack and see what he does when the remaining heads of lettuce start spilling onto the floor.

The frozen food aisle is always a gamble to find what you want. The visibility of the frozen food aisle is about 3 to 5 feet. The freezers are so cold that crystallized water clouds the air as your fellow shoppers open the freezer doors to select their frozen food entree for the evening's dinner. To get a product from the freezer section requires you to leave your cart at the top of the aisle, zip up your coat, sprint to the freezer where you think the chicken pot pie is, yank open the door and pull out the box. Now you race back to your cart at the same time simulating a NFL tip drill juggling the pot pie so the box doesn't stick to your fingers. As you near the cart, you extend your arms to drop the frozen container into the wagon. Your fingertips burn as you watch the box tumble to the bottom. You wince as the pain travels from your fingertips through your wrists. If your fingers stick to the box you get to make a bonus trip to the emergency room to have your phalanges re-grafted from the skin that was stuck to the box after it thaws.

Unforeseen detours can make for unwanted delays while shopping too. As I make the turn from the cereal aisle to the condiment aisle, I quickly notice there are two yellow caution cones. They are inscribed "Caution, Wet Floor" in seventeen languages with a graphic of a stick man falling on his posterior. I gingerly tip-toe down the aisle so I don't replicate the stick figure and slip and bust my head on a pickle jar.

As I round another corner someone whacks me with one of those steel cage shopping carts. Someone should sell insurance for the bodily damage that is inflicted on others by negligent cart drivers. They should require people who use these shopping carts be licensed. I can't tell you how many bruised ankles and knees I've gotten because the people driving the carts are looking at the shelves and can't decide what type of antacid or three cheese spaghetti sauce to buy. These people are dangerous. They are allowed to take these steel-wheeled objects and wield them like weapons. A push here and a shove there and pretty soon someone makes a run to the first aid station to stop the bleeding. There needs to be a rule that you can only buy what you can carry out of the store in your arms.

What is it with the store brand items packaged in a suspiciously similar packaging to the major brands. People tell me that the store brand looks that way because the major brand actually manufactures the product for the store. The major brand manufacturers put the product in similar packaging as their own brand so more of the "stuff" they make will get sold. If that's the case, why does the store brand of peanut butter have a half inch of gooy oil at the top of the jar when the major brand of peanut butter doesn't?

I've successfully checked off all the items on my list and I'm ready for the next challenge. Checking out. Somehow I always pick the line that moves the slowest. I gauge my progress by people who get in the line next to me at the same time. Almost always they get out of the store before I do. I can always depend on the fact that when I get to be next in line, a problem will occur. The person in front of me has an item that can't be read by the scanner. Uh oh, here it comes. The cashier, with one hand, switches her aisle indicator light from solid to blinking. The other hand grabs the phone and says "price check at register three." If that isn't bad enough, when I finally get to the cashier, the register runs out of tape. And of course the cashier doesn't have one stinkin' roll of register tape to put into the machine. She makes another announcement summoning the manager to bring a roll of tape. He finally gets to the register and what do you think happens next? He can't thread the paper in the register.

Just then a new checkout line opens. The cashier says "can I take the next customer in line?" Everyone knows I'm next in line, but they scurry over to get in line before me. So I stay in the same, still waiting for the manager to install the paper in the register with his thick sausage-like fingers.

I finally arrive at home battered, bruised, and emotionally distraught because the store wouldn't honor my coupon from Sunday's paper for the canned ham and they couldn't even issue me a rain check. Other items that should have been on my grocery list were a bag of ice for my knee and ankle, soothing medicated cream for my fingers, acetaminophen for my headache and a prayer book so I can pray for the return of the good ol' days of online grocery shopping.

Email from Uday Hussein

2003-07-28T19:05:00.000-04:00

The following is my reply to an email sent to me by my buddy, Uday Hussein:

To: Uday Hussein
From: Life’s Little Observer
RE: Our latest pictures (My brother and I)

Uday, thanks for sending those swell pictures. I hadn’t heard from you in so long, I was beginning to worry about you. You haven’t called or written in such a long time. I think it’s been since March. I’m having a hard time getting a hold of some of your buddies also.

So how has business been? I guess it must be pretty slow because of the economy. I hear your dad faced a recall election, of sorts, similar to what Gray Davis is going through here in California. Gray feels like he is on the run too. If he loses the recall election, he may try one of your father’s strategies and try to escape north over the border to Oregon.

That picture of your knee reminds me of Joe Theisman’s injury years ago when he had his leg broken during a Monday Night Football game. They kept showing it over and over again. Theisman got through it okay and you can too with some physical therapy. With some good physical therapy that leg will be as good as new and you will be able to run long distances with your Olympic candidates.

I’m surprised you look so bloated in that picture. You should perhaps see a doctor and have him prescribe some diuretics. You look like you are resting comfortably and you look so much better without the beard.

If you see your dad give him my best. I understand he is about to enter the dating scene. I hear he is scheduled to meet 72 virgins in the very near future. That should be a lot of fun for him. Did he quit smoking? He really shouldn’t have cigars around all those virgins, if you know what I mean.

Tell your brother Qusay that there may be an opening to run a newspaper here in the states if he is looking for a job. The New York Times is looking for a permanent executive editor. Since Qusay runs the newspaper in Iraq, I thought he may be interested in a job if he was traveling this way.

Write again soon,

Life’s Little Observer

P.S. Those nice long mahogany conference tables in your dad’s office probably will fetch a nice price on Ebay. If you don’t want to sell them, they would make two or three nice caskets. Think about it.

Kobe, Make Me Your New Agent!

2003-07-21T13:01:00.000-04:00

Everyone seems to be fixated on the fact that the Los Angeles Lakers’ Kobe Bryant could lose millions of dollars in endorsements because of alleged sexual assault charges brought against him by a young lady in Colorado. Being a person who always looks for the positive side in a situation, I figured out that he doesn’t have to lose even one dollar in endorsements. All that is needed is a restructuring of his endorsement deals.

Forget all of the endorsement deals that he currently has and let’s look at some of the other possible companies or industries that might have Kobe as their spokesperson.

The clothing industry would be one possibility. Kobe could market a line of the new tear-away concierge outfits. The slogan could be “for those moments when you need to get out of your clothes quickly, choose the tear-away” or “insist that your concierge wear the new tear-away outfit so the clothes don’t end up as evidence.” Perhaps he could endorse a line of mens clothing that could include sexual assault team outfits. “Your posse needs to be stylishly dressed for those intimate moments when they are holding that woman down for you.”

Kobe could be the spokesperson for a hotel chain that has rooms that are “specially constructed” for those quiet out-of-town nights when you don’t want to disturb guests in other rooms. The slogan for the hotel could be “Stay at our hotel with the “Silencer” soundproof walls.”

Mr. Bryant may be good for a condom commercial by holding up a pack of condoms saying “Protect yourself and your career with the Colorado Copulation Condoms.”

He could promote wine coolers. The promotional line could be “drink Kobe Wine Coolers and you won’t have to force her to get what you want.”

Every major sports franchise has a member of the team that fronts for a local legal group. Here is the scene. Kobe Bryant is sitting in the conference room with the obligatory law books providing the appropriate background. He is surrounded by the four smiling partners of the law firm. Kobe says “If you are charged with sexual assault by a 19 year old star struck gal, call my lawyers, Breakum, Bustum, Tryum and Freeum.

There are so many possibilities to help Kobe Bryant maintain his stature as the #3 sports figure in terms of endorsements. Make me Kobe Bryant’s agent and I’ll protect his financial interests by finding endorsements that no one will find scandalous.

Catching Up Since High School

2003-07-16T21:20:00.000-04:00

Our family joined a different pool this year because the pool we used to go to did not reopen. The pool we joined afforded me the opportunity to visit with a lot of people that I hadn't seen for the better part of 30 years. This was an enlightening experience for which I wasn't quite ready.

Seeing my former classmates brought back a flood of memories to my mind. Everyone was happy to see each other and we all began talking at once. After we realized that nobody was listening to each other we decided to take turns talking about old times and catching up on the new times.

Sal had become the chief financial officer of a major regional company. Neil is doing very well in the insurance business. Brian, not yet 50, is in between jobs because of a heart attack that he suffered a year ago.

Jamie, wasn't there but I heard that he opted for a long term commitment to public housing with three meals a day for 15 to 20 years for various indiscretions. Wouldn't you know it, Jamie was voted in high school as "most likely to succeed."

Sue was also at our mini-reunion. She was our high school beauty queen. She was gorgeous. She had long lean, muscular legs and they were prominently featured on the field hockey and softball fields as she was a member of both teams. She had three young children with her and she is no longer married to her fourth husband. She looked like a completely different person than she did in high school. As a matter of fact I didn't even recognize her until she called my name. I recognized her voice and couldn't believe that voice belonged to that person. Even after 30 years, like clockwork, I had to sneak a peek at those memorable legs. I was horrified to see that those legs looked like they could support a Steinway. She mentioned that she had just put a new addition on her house. Her swimsuit revealed that she put on a few additions there also. Suffice it to say that calling her "plus size" would be a huge compliment (pun intended.)

Terry, the senior class president, the guy you would have thought would've set the world on fire, was put in jail for setting his house on fire. Craig had a hobby that he couldn't give up since high school. He's a convicted car thief.

Timmy, who now prefers to be called Tim, achieved rock star status as the varsity football team quarterback. Tim was known as Mr. Atlas because was built just like Charles Atlas that appeared in the advertisements in the old superhero comic books. After 30 years he still looked like another well known celebrity, the Michelin Man.

After an exciting day of reminiscing, I went home to take a good look in the mirror. Mother Nature and Father Time hadn't been so kind to my classmates. Could it be that they weren't so kind to me? I was glad to discover that I was the only one of the group that met that day that hadn't aged, hadn't gained any weight and hadn't lost any hair. Well maybe one thing did change. It seems that I have to make an appointment to have my eyes checked.

Cell Phones - The Sequel

2003-07-08T13:23:00.000-04:00

Cell phones are great. They allow people to keep in touch. Parents can find their children when necessary, friends can communicate and doctors can reach their patients.

The whole world can be reached with the press of a button. While shopping, you can take a picture of the car you want to buy and see if your significant other likes the color because you can't be trusted after that vomit green bucket of bolts you bought last time. Some people have been caught in compromising positions that never before would have been possible without this new technology. No one anywhere is safe from the prying eyes of a cell phone.

We bought our original cell phone for emergencies. It's amazing how what you want on your pizza gets elevated to emergency status. I didn't think that pepperoni ranked up there with flat tires, broken radiator hoses or dead batteries. But alas, I have been educated.

With all of this technology and the ability to instantly reach another party, why is it so hard to reach my cell phone company when I have a question or problem?

I can't talk to anyone at the cell phone company without verifying what language I speak, my cell phone number, billing address, last four digits of my social security number, blood type, cholesterol level and the name of my first born. And that's before I get to speak to a real person.

Finally, the man behind the curtain appears and asks me to verify the same information that I had already given by pressing the digits earlier. When I protest, the customer service representative tells me that this is for security purposes. Would someone else really put themselves through this torture or jump through these hoops to get information about my account? Then comes the obligatory "I know how you feel but this is only for your protection." Protection!, I'm not having sex, I'm trying to find out about my bill.

So I reluctantly surrender the information requested.

Now it's time to get down to business. After the information is verified for the second time, the voice at the other end of the phone says in that silly little perky voice "what can I do for you today?"

I almost get my question out when the customer service representative interrupts and says "please hold." Again I hear more commercials for their cell phone service. At this point I'm thinking "I'm already a customer and I'm a customer ready to go to another phone service if someone doesn't get on the line and fix my problem.

After 25 minutes and several times on hold I hear "the problem has been corrected."

"Really!"

"Yes sir."

"This has been a recurring problem for the past five months! What makes you so sure that it is going to be fixed and that I won't have to spend another half hour on the phone with you again next month?!?"

"I just finished speaking with my supervisor and she said the problem should not occur again." "Supervisor" being the code word for the customer service representative not being responsible when the charge appears on my bill again next month.

With his lukewarm assurance I somehow manage to eek out a "thank you."

"You're welcome. Is there any thing else I can do for you today?"

"Yes, give my your freakin' cell phone number so I can get a hold of you immediately next time."

Here comes the kiss of death. "Thank you for choosing Bells and Whistle Phone Company."

"If I wasn't in the middle of a two year commitment, I'd go somewhere else, GOODBYE!!!!"

2003-07-02T23:26:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I was on my way to an appointment when my car decided to die.

I was on the expressway and my speedometer was hovering above 80 mph. I know I was not going at that rate of speed. I got off the expressway, and there was a line of traffic. I came to a stop, the engine racing as if I was “gunning” it waiting for the green light at the drag strip. The turn signals did not work, yet the air conditioner blew cold air saving me from wilting since I was wearing a suit. I put the car in neutral and the engine raced even more. All of the sudden the car shook violently and then just turned off. I tried to start it again with absolutely no response.

Traffic ahead was beginning to move. I could sense the frustration of rush hour drivers as they passed my car either yelling something or sharing gestures. One person drove by and indicated via gesture that I was #1.

I looked in the rear view mirror and I didn’t like what I saw. Three guys got out of their vehicles. I got out of mine. They came running towards me. I’ve seen this in the movies before. Three guys pull a driver out of the car, rough him up a little bit and drag him into the woods never to be seen or heard from again. Could this be the fate that would greet me on this hot and humid afternoon? Glancing to the left I saw woods. Yep, I was sure that this was it.

The first guy looked like he should be riding a Harley. He had a pony tail, long beard, tattoos up one arm and down the other, hairy arms and shoulders, a black leather vest that did not come close to being able to be buttoned, several body piercings too numerous to mention and a tire chain that secured his wallet in his back pocket.

The second guy looked like a surfer dude. He had short blond hair, dark wrap around orange colored reflective sunglasses and bright yellow shirt that could not come close to hiding his massive arms, shoulders and pecs. He also had a deep dark rich tan that could only be purchased at the local tanning salon.

The third guy was the size of a horse racing jockey wearing a maroon polo shirt with arms the size of small twigs.

My eyes went back and forth from the woods to the three guys and back again. Yep, this is it. I said my prayers and then it came. Out of the biker looking guy’s mouth came a high pitched voice. The soprano voice issued the following edict. “We are going to push your car into this parking lot. Get in and steer.” I hopped in the car and did precisely what was asked of me.

After my car was in the lot, the guys asked if I was going to be ok. The heart palpitations beginning to cease, I waved and said “yes, thank you.” The trio waved back and wished me luck.

After my appointment I called the towing company and arranged for them to pick up the car from the parking lot and deliver it to the garage with which we do business. Today, I just got off the phone with the mechanic. He said he didn’t see the car in the lot. It’s lost.

I didn’t lose my life but I did lose a car.

PS. Thanks for your help guys.

2003-06-26T09:21:00.000-04:00

If I ever see another local news broadcast it will be too soon. Here’s why.

The dinnertime newscast begins with cutsy phrases like “live, local, late breaking” and “community, commitment, caring.” They should use something like “boring, backward, bogus.”

The local news programmers have a penchant for finding the bottom of the food chain as eyewitnesses.

SEGMENT I: The reporter is on the scene “live” with a “late breaking report.” The scene opens with a two-shot of the reporter and a lady who is wearing a large pair of glasses that haven’t been cleaned since Hurricane Andrew. They have smudge marks so thick with fingerprints that even the LA Police Forensic unit could figure out to whom they belong. The camera shot continues as it zooms in on a close up of the woman with unwashed, matted stringy hair holding her granddaughter. You notice that this made for TV model has 3.4 teeth in the top of her mouth and one tooth, right in the center, on the bottom. She begins to explain to the reporter about the water main break, the reason for which the news trucks are gathered on her front yard. Her recounting of this incident is virtually incomprehensible. She also launches into a tirade blaming the city for all of her other ills, which, of course, have nothing to do with this story. The immediate challenge to the viewer is to figure out what language she is speaking. It turns out that she really is speaking English, but using a dialect that became extinct with the just prior to the Civil War.

As the reporter’s head spins like a top, looking for more action and more people to interview, he says “we will bring you back LIVE as developments occur.”

The reporter never returns during that newscast. After all of the intense questioning by the reporter and promises to “get to the bottom of the controversy,” the real cause of the water in the street is that the guy who lives up the street forgot to turn off the hose when he finished washing his SUV.

SEGMENT II: A new graphic instantly appears with lights, flashing colors and thunderous sounds that make carnival rides seem meek. After the graphic and audio subsides you see the photo of the legal team.

The photo of the legal team of reporters are standing back to back with their arms folded and their faces look like your elementary school principal when you have just been banished to his office for throwing spit balls. The camera angle is such that you are looking up to these reporters. You get the impression that they are supreme to those of us watching and they can get things done that us mere mortals can’t get done for ourselves. These law school student wannabes will leave no stone unturned to bring justice for their television audience. The tease indicates that these local legal eagles will “get you the answers you want.” And, they add the following tag line “this is a story you can’t afford to miss.” I don’t know about you, but I was really impressed that these guys took up seven minutes of my time to tell me how they secured a $3.35 refund from the long distance telephone company for one of their “loyal” watchers of the news.

Before going to commercial they always try to keep you tuned to their station by taking a world or national news story and giving it local flavor. The twenty something news babe says “see how a local man has a connection to SARS.” I’m riveted now, let’s get through the commercials.

SEGMENT III: Here is the story that was promised in the tease prior to the commercials. The news babe begins “somebody my brother once knew had a Chinese friend who lived across the street from someone who knew doctor who had a step sister who who lives in Canada and read about SARS. See the entire story at eleven.” WHAT????!!!

SEGMENT IV: This is my favorite. You see video of the war in Afghanistan. This tape has obviously been shot by one of the major networks. The voice you hear is that of the reporter from the local station. Do they actually think that I think they are in Afghanistan covering the war? Yeah, I’m sitting in my den watching the news and I yell to my wife “look hon, there’s [insert your local reporters name here] covering the war.”

And as Walter Cronkite would say, “And that’s the news.” And that’s the news? Thank goodness its over.

I had to get through the news so I can watch the syndicated version of WOF and watch Vanna turn the letters. Now that’s “Must See TV!”

2003-06-19T11:01:00.000-04:00

I had my first foray into the business world when I was very young. Both Ralph and I were about 12 years old when we were approached about marketing a cleaning product. We were told that it was a way for us to make some good money over the summer. So we very enthusiastically learned about the product, watched product demonstrations and practiced our sales script.

It came time for us to begin our quest to become teenage business tycoons. Nervously, we knocked on our first door. Darn, someone was home because we could hear footsteps coming towards the door. Mrs. Anderson opened the door with her usual smile. “What can I do for you boys?” she asked.

We looked at each other almost speechless and I blurted out “can we demonstrate a product for you that will remove stains?” That wasn’t what I was supposed to say but it was all I could remember. It was a pretty weak start, but that was our first actual sales call.

She was the June Cleaver type, replete with the strand of pearls around her neck and a dress with a hemline that fell between the knee and the ankle. Her husband was more like Rosanne’s TV husband, Dan.

Mrs. Anderson invited us into the house and the four of us sat down in the living room. We hurriedly explained the benefits of the product as only two 12 year olds could. Ralph then asked if we could demonstrate the product and show how it removes stains. Mrs. Anderson was more than willing to give us a chance. Ralph asked for grape jelly. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a brand new jar of jelly. It was a jar that doubled as a water glass when the jelly is finished. This particular glass had pictures of the Flintstones.

Ralph, standing in the middle of the living room, opens the jar and dumps the entire contents of the jar right in the middle of the carpet. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mrs. Anderson’s face watching in shock, and Mr. Anderson sitting up on the edge of the sofa eyeballing the mound of jelly on his carpet. Ralph begins to scoop up most of the jelly with the jar. So far we’re looking good. Ralph’s hand is shaking as he begins to tell exactly what will happen when he applies the cleaning fluid as he continues to pick up more jelly.

He takes a flask out of his pocket and sprays the liquid on the purposely-created stain. Did I mention that this carpet was a newly installed beautiful white carpet? Out of his other pocket comes the bristle brush. He starts to scrub. Scrubs more. The pesky stain isn’t going away but begins to spread. I’m starting to sweat. The more he scrubs the larger the stain gets. After several minutes of scrubbing, the stain is now the size of a football and shows no signs of disappearing. I look at Mrs. Anderson. I look at Mr. Anderson. They look at each other.

Mr. Anderson stands up angrily, hikes his pants up and says almost at the top of his lungs, “boys….” That’s all we heard. He lunges at us. I shouted “Ralph, let’s go!” Luckily, Ralph and I were in between the unhappy couple and the door. The chase was on. Ralph was out the door first. I was almost in his back pocket. Mr. Anderson was out third, only he stopped to pick up a kitchen knife. He chased us for about two blocks until he finally gave up.

I still believe to this day that if Mr. Anderson had been more fleet afoot, Ralph and I would have been the stock in the soup of the Anderson’s evening meal.

2003-06-15T19:26:00.000-04:00

Sara and I were having dinner at an exclusive Italian restaurant. We looked deep into each other’s eyes the entire time, from the first glass of wine through the scrumptious
cannoli. The flame from the candles danced in her eyes in the romantically lit room.

We discussed our future. We decided what our wedding would look like. We discussed what the rest of our family would look like. We discussed what type of home we would live in for all of our happy years.

Our wedding would be a carbon copy of the Princess Di wedding complete with the television coverage. We would have three children. The children would be spaced by two years. We agreed that the children would be two girls and a boy with the boy being the youngest. Each would have blond hair, blue eyes, and be very athletic with a bronze tan. We would live in a castle with 17 rooms, maids quarters, outdoor heated pool, tennis courts and beautiful botanical gardens in which we could take long walks.

As we were finishing our delectable desserts, I could only think of what was to come afterwards. Sara and I would compete as a team in the pairs bedroom gymnastics event at my place.

That’s when I got smacked. Not from Sara, but with the firm hand of reality. I was suddenly sitting at my breakfast table, alone, staring into my milk-soaked mini-wheats. There was no Sara, no kids, no home, no long walks, just fiber. At my age I guess it was just too good to be true.

So what could have happened to rush me back to reality?

Earlier that morning I was getting dressed for work and opened a new pair of underwear. As I was putting them on a tiny slip of paper fell to the floor. I picked it up and it said “Inspected by Sara.”

Sara, if you read this, please call me.

2003-06-09T09:47:00.000-04:00

How to tell if you are "the baloney sandwich in the lunch pail of life":

1. You are always a nickel short for coffee so you borrow from your office mates.
2. You are afraid to try to do anything new for fear that it may not be perfectt.
3. You turn around when someone yells "hey asshole!"
4. You think you are the most popular person in the world but everyone is really ignoring you.
5. You don't understand the meaning of "voulez vous coucher avec moi?"
6. You don't dance to the song YMCA because you can't remember how it's spelled.
7. You don't lock the bathroom door in someone else's house because you are afraid you won't be able to unlock it without banging on the door and embarrassing yourself.
8. You think Martha Stewart's definition of insider trading means trading cigarettes inside prison walls.
9. You think Viagra is the body of water between New York and Canada.
10. You think Al Qaeda played the part of Don Corleone in the "Godfather."

2003-06-02T20:28:00.000-04:00

I’ve normally found that when doing business with a company and giving them referrals for new business for a number of years, that they normally would give me a discount or some other type of break as a way of saying thanks for helping their business grow.

I was astonished to find out that in some cases, it doesn’t work that way. Actually its quite the opposite. By opposite, I mean being a good customer…….. well let me tell you what happened to me today.

I’ve been a customer of a cell phone service provider for over ten years. Silly of me to expect that since I’ve been a customer for so long that I might get a little bit of “preferred” customer service.

I thought I would treat myself and replace my cell phone because I’ve had it a number of years. I walked into the phone store and I was greeted by a salesperson with a grin that went from ear to ear. “Can I help you?” he asked. I said “Yes” and that “I would like to look at a new phone.”

He showed me a phone and shared with me the features and benefits of the phone and suggested that it might meet my needs. I looked over the product brochure and agreed. I then asked “how much is this phone?” He said “$29.99” as he looked for his order pad. I said “that’s great, here is my cell number so you can get the service transferred to the new phone.”

"Oh, great, you’re already a customer. Then the cost of the phone will be “$99.99.”

“$99.99, for the very same phone that I could have purchased for $29.99 as a nobody off the street?”

“Yes sir” he replied energetically with his not very thoughtful or logical response.

I said to him, “if I’m already a customer, why do I get penalized and have the opportunity to pay five times, more for the same phone?” He replied “don’t look at it like that.”

I said with the grin of a Cheshire cat “exactly how should I look at it?" He stared at me blankly. There was customer standing next to me and he also asked, “yeah, how should he look at it?”

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I would retain too many clients by saying “since you’ve been such a loyal customer for so long, you should be happy to pay me five times more for my service to you.”

Was I really living in a Seinfeld episode? By the way, my old phone is working just fine tonight. Pinch me and tell me this isn't for real.

2003-05-29T11:24:00.000-04:00

I’m tired, I’m really tired. I couldn’t sleep last night so I flipped on the television and watched all of the motivational programming. As it turns out, I was completely unaware about how I could improve my life. I was taking copious notes in my head. I was sure I could remember everything when I woke up this morning.

When I woke, I grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper and wrote down everything I could remember.

I can buy a house for no money down from a fat guy who is getting a six pack in his stomach area just by pressing his mouse key while at the same time making spaghetti and not losing a strand and cleaning his appliances with some orange colored solution and yelling at me all at the same time.

Another alternative is to learn to play a musical instrument overnight while finding money sources for the rest of the things I want to accomplish in life.

And I can take care of myself from head to toe by cutting my hair with that vacuum cleaner contraption, put my feet in the bubbles while getting my thighs in shape with that genetically enlarged paper clip and trimming my nose hairs.

Now all I need is to find a late night motivational program to show me how to file bankruptcy without a lawyer and help me dispense of all the products that I ordered from last night’s programs. You can buy it from me. . . . .cheap. And if you order in the next 5 minutes, I’ll make one of your monthly payments on the fat guy’s house.

2003-05-22T19:42:00.000-04:00

Is it me or what? I have spent so much time in front of the computer over the last 10 years that the lines of reality have become blurred. For instance, if I have any type of question, I immediately go to Google. Google knows everything and everybody. If Google doesn’t know, it knows where to send me to get the answer to my question. As Martha Stewart would say, “that’s a good thing.”

Here’s where my problem comes in. The phone rings. Why do I look for an icon on my desktop to answer the phone? When I’m finished the call, I can’t find the logout button. Heaven forbid someone on the other end of the line is on a cell phone and goes into a bad cell resulting in a dropped call. I swing right into troubleshooting mode. I begin by checking to make sure the headset is connected properly. Do I press the * , # and mute buttons to reboot the phone? Then I ask myself “what type of connection do I have?” Cable, DSL, duh, it’s a phone connection stupid, dial up at that.

I’m hungry now so I head to the refrigerator. Why is it that whatever I want is always in the back on the bottom shelf? My solution, I grab the refrigerator handle and try to click and drag the pickles to the front of the top shelf.

Here’s where I know things are getting bad. I’m involved in a conversation with someone and he is compelled to describe every itzy bitzy teeny weenie detail of his experience. In the days before computers, I would have said something like “what happened next” to gently push towards the end of the story. Now, I look for the “scroll bar” to scroll down to get to the end of the conversation.

Maybe I need a vacation. But first I have to go online to make reservations.

Argggghhhhhh, BSOD (Blue Screen of Death.)

2003-05-18T02:17:00.000-04:00

The old joke says if you don't go to college, learn to say "do you want fries with that?" Some of the kids working today in these so called "fast food" places fail to use common sense. As an aside, why do they call them fast food places when they are only half-fast? Anyway, even with a high school diploma, these people don't use common sense. I took my daughter through the drive through of one of these fast food places. We ordered a crispy chicken "with just lettuce." The person at the end of the clown's mouth was barely understandable so I asked if she understood the order. She repeated it to me but I swear she repeated it in the language that they use on planet Zoron. So I repeated it and she acknowledged that she understood what I said.

I drove up to the next window and received my order from a person who looked like he had been manning that window for the past 36 hours. Feeling uneasy, I pulled into a parking space and decided to look at the order to make sure it was correct. I had the soft drink in my hand, so I knew I had that. I opened the bag and saw the french fries. Reaching below the fries I felt the sandwich. As I was ready to leave the premises, a voice inside my head begged me to make sure the sandwich was prepared accurately. I asked my daughter to look at the sandwich to make sure the order met with her satisfaction. Upon unwrapping the sandwich, we were amazed at what confronted us. Crispy chicken with "just lettuce", no mayo, no tomato, no onion and NO CHICKEN, just lettuce!

Is it really out of the realm of common sense to put a piece of chicken on a chicken sandwich? Do you want fries with that? How about just a dollop of common sense.

2003-05-09T22:20:00.000-04:00

Any Madison Avenue Maven will tell you that if you can't remember what a television commercial is advertising, then the advertising didn't do its job. So whats up with these prescription medicine commercials? They never tell you what they are advertising.

I once saw a commercial for a prescription medication where the father is in a park swinging his daughter on a swing and his wife comes up behind him and gives him a big hug. All three of them break into huge smiles when the picture suddenly freezes. What are they selling? I don't know yet. Then the narrator says "Ask your doctor about Stupazappanex." What are they selling? Family bonding? I don't know yet.

Then the narrator starts to speak 400 MPH. He says "side effects may include itchy eyes, runny nose, drowsiness, nausea, insomnia, toe nail fungus, allergies, heart palpitations, bad breath, liver dysfunction, headaches, blisters, the clap, cold sores, renal failure, gall stones, kidney stones, and gas. What are they selling? I don't know yet. All I can figure is that I will end up sicker than before I started with this stuff.

The next day I take a trip to my doctor and ask him if I need Stupazappanex. He says "having family problems, are you?"

So Mister Madison Avenue Maven, just what is the purpose of advertising a product that is a big secret?

2003-05-01T20:50:00.000-04:00

It all began when I took my car to the local “Hurry Up Oil and Lube” franchise for it’s 3,000 mile oil change.

The first thing I noticed was the uniforms that all the workers wore. The uniforms are battleship gray with a hint of midnight blue, white short sleeve shirts with burgundy pinstripes and white nametags encircled in red patched over the left breast pocket. The manager always wears a matching jacket. Incredibly, the people who work in these joints all have one syllable names. They’re names are Bob, Mike, Dave and Tom. They never have names like Robert, Michael, David or Thomas. I’m sorry, if you don’t have one of those one syllable names you can’t get a job at the local “Hurry Up Oil and Lube” shop.

Along with the clothing, the workers have similar grooming patterns. Their hair is parted on the side and pasted down with a glob of 10W40 which is just a little bit more controlling than the outmoded “a little dab’ll do ya” Creem that was the hair grooming standard in the 50’s and 60”s.

After you’ve been sitting in the waiting area for three quarters of an hour waiting for that promised “10 minute or free” oil change, becoming nauseated from the smell of burnt coffee, the mechanic walks out of the shop into the waiting area shaking his head as he hands the work order to the manager. The manager reviews the work order just as a physician would evaluate an x-ray. As the doctor would say, “we need to run a few more tests”, oddly enough the manager, Dave, repeats the same mantra.

Dave begins to ask “did you know” questions. He looks up from the work order and asks “did you know the seal is broken between the fritzis and the calavertsis, and, did you know the main stoclavist should have been replaced a year ago?”

“What the hell is that?” you respond raising your voice only 2 octives. He describes it by gesturing with his hands wildly in the air so you know this is going to be serious. “What happens if I don’t fix it now?” He launches into several vividly detailed scenarios about how the world will come to an abrupt end because of YOUR car.

“How much is its going to cost?”

He takes a deep breath, exhales through is nose and walks over to the parts book. The parts book looks the size of a 24 volume set of the Encyclopedia Britannica spread across the entire width of the countertop. Somehow, he opens the book to the exact page the very first time. He looks at the book and says the same thing that you’ve heard at every visit to the shop. “Parts, labor, and of course it’s best to use the manufacturers certified parts…..”

He quotes you a price and you roll back on your heels in shock. The blood rushing from your face, you begin to reach for your cell phone to make an appointment with your mortgage banker to find out about a second mortgage on your home to cover the cost of this repair. Just then he looks up at you and says “you can get away without fixing it this time but I would certainly fix it the next time you come in.”

As you drive away thinking “I got a way with it this time.” But it’s too late. The seed has already been planted. A $14.95 oil change turns into Alan Greenspan trying to balance the national debt.

2003-04-30T11:50:00.000-04:00

I am a creature of habit. I do the same things over and over. I don't do change very well. For instance, I always put my left sock on first, then my right one. Then my left shoe goes on, then the right. I never save any templates to my computer programs because I want them to remain as pristine as possible.

When we go out to eat, no matter what restaurant we go to, I always order the same menu item. Every once in a while I feel like I have to "go out on a limb", "express myself", "let the music out" or "go for the gusto" by trying something new.

The restaurant we frequent always has a waiting line. So we wait in line for about 45 minutes. The body language of the people in line is interesting. Every few minutes a party is called to come into the restaurant. Of those remaining, hunger registers in their eyes and their heads droop just a little bit more.

The hostess hollers out our names. Like we’ve just won the lottery, we giggle like children and prance into the restaurant following her to the inner sanctum of the dining area. We are finally seated. We made it to the big time. Now we claim the prize that everyone was after. Dinner.

Once we are inside and seated, the waitress presents us with menus. This wasn’t an ordinary menu. No. It couldn’t be that easy. This menu was the size of the silver tanning board that I used in the 70’s before the tanning cream was invented, the stuff that turned you orange. The menu opened like a book then each side fanned open again. For me, this was the perfect thing to just drive me nuts. Too many choices. When the chips are down, can I really make up my mind and order something else other than what I usually order?

She tells us that the Special of the Day is the "yada yada yada" with the newly created super special secret sauce, with a dash of garlic and pepper, that has been praised by the masses.

Since I was determined to try something new, I politely asked for a few more moments to make up my mind. This request was greeted by a piercing look from my wife. She was hungry and ready to order. Unlike me, she perused the menu and made a lightening quick decision. Me, I studied the menu asking myself why did this side order come only with this entrée and not the other entrée. Of course, no answers were forthcoming.

The waitress is on her way back to our table. I could tell because I could hear the squeaking of her white hospital shoes on the newly shined hardwood floor. I've already asked her for more time to order. I can't do it again because I already exercised my first option and she didn't return for 20 minutes. This is crunch time - what do I do? I don't want to go too far out on a limb, so I look for a variant of my old standard. My eyes race around the menu. Panicked, I try to focus on one thing, anything. Then the moment of truth arrives. The waitress standing next to me peering over her black rimmed reading glasses with pencil in hand. "Do you need more time she asks wryly?" Knowing better, I say “I’m ready, let’s order.”

I listen to my wife as she "matter of factly" states her desire to the waitress, closes her menu and hands it to the waitress. She peers at me as if to say “I thought you were ready to order.”

I see the confidence in her and immediately think to myself that I'm about to order the wrong thing. Several questions rush into my head. Should I go with the regular, standard, “know it will satisfy me meal”, or something else I think will help me stretch my edible comfort zone.

I get to the point where I can't make up my mind.

With a huge silent gulp, and with as much confidence as I can muster, I announce my preference for dinner. Gritting my teeth I think to myself “ why did I order THAT?”

I see the plump waitress exit the kitchen into the dining area with two plates balanced on her forearm, beautifully adorned by colorful parsley. My heart begins pounding with anticipation only to be disappointed by seeing these two elegant and scrumptious meals delivered to the elderly couple seated next to us, who incidentally, arrived at the restaurant 30 minutes after we did.

My apprehension accelerates as I begin to experience a small case of buyer’s remorse because I wasn’t totally committed to my dinner selection.

The overworked waitress finally winds her way through the tables juggling our entrees and bread baskets arriving at our table and cheerfully instructs us, with the snappy cadence of a drill sergeant, to enjoy our meals.

With a pensive look at my meal, my eyes edge slowly over to my wife's plate, only to think to myself "why does someone else's meal always look better than mine?" I look back at my plate contemptuously thinking “what did I do? I'm not liking this. I'm not going to try anything new ever again. I want to give it back and get my standard fare.

Disappointed again, I can't wait to come back and order "the usual."

2003-04-28T08:39:00.000-04:00

Haven’t we had enough of these reality shows that are over the top? "Survivor", where the contestants eat bugs or they find themselves at the end of a 1,000 foot bungee cord or, "The Amazing Race" where people are running all over the world trying to get to a predetermined place at a predetermined time. You know the one. The one where there is a 2 hour finale with two sisters, wearing 80 pound backpacks, are sprinting through an airport reminiscent of OJ Simpson running to catch his plane, that is, before the authorities limited his out of town travel. C’mon now, how about a reality show for the rest of us? The kind of people who have regular lives.

Here are my ideas for reality shows that I would like to see on network television. How about a show where accountants are given financial statements and are asked to choose the best depreciation method to write-off the cost of office equipment? How about computer programmers who are given code with incorrect syntax and are pressured to debug the program and get it to run correctly? How about a competition amongst administrative aides to see who can get the office copier to work? Or, maybe, just maybe, have parents develop a plan to finance their child’s education without going in to hoc for the rest of their natural lives.

Yeah, how about a show for us regular folks?

2003-04-25T09:08:00.000-04:00

Isn't it wierd that when a car passes you on a residential street going double the speed you are, you always catch up to it at the traffic light?

2003-04-24T18:01:00.000-04:00

The former Iraqi Information Minister, Baghdad Bob, has a new job in the field of public relations. His first client is Scott Peterson. His first statements on behalf of Mr. Peterson were as follows: Scott Peterson does not know Laci Peterson, he has never been a blonde and he is NOT in Jail.

In a related story, the former Iraqi Information Minister said that Saddam's picture will appear on milk cartons as early as next week.