Your daily dose of vitamin J

Andy did you hear about this one?

2010-05-01T13:58:00.000-07:00

Ok, so where to begin? I like art. All sorts of art. Whether it's painting, sculpture, film, literature, or what have you. The concept of "getting" art has always been sort of a puzzler for me. People's interpretations tend to fall into the realm of either, "I get it," or "I don't get it." This is usually most relevant with the idea of "modern" art. I think just about anyone can look at, let's say,
Michelangelo's David, and say, "Yep, that's art all right." They also will then point out how his dong is too small for a guy that size and have a hearty laugh. I'm wandering here, I'll get back to the point.

Every "gets" it. It's an artistic statement from an artistic person. It's a representation of a moment in our world in a permanent form. Truthfully depending on the angle you see David from there is more there to get, but that is not my overall point here. Where the disconnect comes in is with more modern styles of art. At a certain point art moved beyond the simple recreation of life to symbolic ideas or even capturing abstract feelings and moods. The end result is many people will look at, or hear, or touch a piece of art and their response is, "huh?" I'm not saying this is a good or a bad thing. It's just the way it is. The whole idea is about making a connection with what the artist was trying to express. Sometimes it works and sometimes the connection just doesn't happen. C'est la vie as the French are fond of saying.

I often find myself having this experience. I found myself on both sides of it recently. One of our local art repositories is the MU museum of art and archaeology. they have many permanent pieces alongside many rotating exhibits. Over the last several months they have presented various works by Andy Warhol. I have always been on the fence about Warhol. The phrase "pop art" always comes up and that's a phrase that means different things to different people. To some, "pop art" is synonymous with crap. Sorry, there is no other way to say it. Pop art is fleeting, meaningless and not worthy of any serious mention. This is not my opinion, but it's an opinion I am familiar with. I know where this sort of thing comes from. Frankly it is hard to juxtapose the Sistine Chapel with some soup cans and not pick a clear winner. Fair enough I say. But, I stand here now in a quandary. Actually quandary is not entirely accurate. Maybe crossroads is a better term. I suppose explanation is necessary.

Months ago I walked through the museum. First and foremost, I always look for anything new. Once in a while there will be a new piece from the "ancient" section. A new Mesopotamian artifact or Egyptian drinking vessel or some other such item. I will stand duly fascinated and make a mental note about it's age. After looking at it's date I will do a quick C.E to B.C.E conversion and say something like, "Wow, that thing is like, 3,000 years old!" I'm sure serious art scholars will look at me and form an instantaneous opinion about my scholarship. That opinion is most likely, "jackass." Whatever. I am impressed by antiquity, so sue me. As I made my way throughout I passed by the various themed sections which led me into the rotating gallery. For several months we have had Warhol stuff. Initially I was a bit miffed because some really good pieces in a theme about women artists had ended. I had liked several of them and was less then thrilled about their replacement. The batch in particular that threw me was the Warhol Polaroids. I'm sure you have seen some of these. Basically, Andy Warhol had taken a run of the mill Polaroid camera and snapped pictures of sometimes famous people and sometimes regular Joes. I wanted to say,

"Ok, the thought of taking photos with a such a common piece of gear really brings to mind the nature of celebrity. I mean, Debbie Harry is a celebrity and taking a typical snap shot picture of her calls into question our very concept of celebrity. The disposable nature of the medium invokes how celebrity is itself disposable and what does that say about our lives and furthermore our very concept of art?"

I didn't say this however. What I said was, "huh?" Yes indeed, I had the classic "huh" moment. Similar to many people's reaction to the soup cans, the Marilyn Monroe lithographs or any of the other themes Warhol has explored. Again, not good or bad, just a disconnect between message and audience.

So ultimately I found myself looking at a visual representation of how I have felt creatively as of late. In a technical sense I am an artist. I guess to be fair, I am a person who has an artistic desire. I write, I do comedy, I take photographs. I used to make music but in that sense the closest I get these days is doing a karaoke song now and again. It would be hard to classify that as art. Performance art maybe, but art? Not really. Like any artistic person I find myself having brief creative flurries followed by droughts. Something will hit me and just as quickly it will leave. Remember Cameron in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off? Remember the scene where they are in the museum and Cameron is staring into the painting? Later on he is asked, "what did you see today?" His response was, "Nothing good." That's it in a nutshell! Cameron's funk was my funk. I hadn't been inspired by anything in a while. That's where Andy comes in.

Today I looked around and there was a new segment of the Warhol exhibit. Again, there were some celebrities and some regular Joes. But this time they were unposed intimate shots. Not intimate in the sense some of you are thinking. There were no Rose Kennedy in the bathtub moments. Admittedly those might have grabbed my attention. These were simply quick excerpts from the real lives of people. There were no artificial poses or contrived scenes. They were just...real. Each one seemed to capture who these people really were. Without any pretense of what the person was trying to portray, instead we had who the person was. Like Cameron I found myself staring into the picture. To put it simply, the connection was made. Now the experts had nothing on me. I wasn't just appreciating the antiquity of a piece, I was feeling it. For the first time in a while I feel inspired by art.

I was trying to remember if it was Shaw or Whistler who had the great quote about portraiture. It turns out that it was Oscar Wilde. I should have known. What he said was, "The only portraits in which one believes are portraits where there is very little of the sitter and a very great deal of the artist." It took me quite a while, but today I finally saw a great deal of the artist. Inspiration is good.

Yeah, you know I'm gettin' silly.

2009-12-26T22:40:00.000-08:00

This is the video from the prelim round at Deja Vu in October. Just me reading some stuff.

The fox is on the town-o

2009-10-04T22:28:00.000-07:00

So let's see, what's going on in this world of ours? What should we talk about this week? What are the important and vital issues that confront and challenge us? Oh, here's one.

I'm just going to come right out and say it. I know many of us feel the same way but sometimes we are frightened or ashamed to let it out. Maybe it's the expected backlash or just being able to admit the truth, but knowing the reason doesn't negate the pain. It hurts to say this, but here it goes...I have officially had enough of Megan Fox. Whew! That feels better.

See, even I can't help it.

Seriously. Enough already. I have seen her in exactly one movie but I'm pretty sure I could draw her from memory. She is absolutely everywhere. Without even trying today I saw her roughly 800 times. 14 magazines, 4 television channels, 30 facebook update thingys and uncountable numbers of pictures, photoshoots and random mentions on the internet. I was at the grocery store earlier and saw her on the cover of Vibe "Megan Fox Hot Photoshoot!", Rolling Stone "America's sexiest bad girl!" Esquire "Megan Fox-ing!" and even Cat Fancy

Can we just come together as a society and solve this nonsense? I think, we all can agree that she is a visually appealing person. Like me, I'm sure you have been reminded of this numerous times today. A quick google search for "Megan Fox" reveals two things.

1. There are currently 35,400,000 results for her name alone and 18,700,000 for "Megan Fox Hot."

2. She has really nailed that sultry/slutty look thing.

I guess what I am saying is, "who cares?" Is being hot enough to capture the attention if the whole world? And if it is, then why her? There is no shortage of hot girls in the world. In fact most of the internet seems to be devoted to some aspect of this subject. I'm going to do a quick google search for hot girls and see what I come up with. Hang on, I'll be back......

Ok. 101,000,000 results. That means our top internet scientists are currently devoting 18% of total internet "hotness" to one person. This seems crazy. With minimal effort I'm sure we could all locate someone who we feel is of an equivalent hotness to Megan Fox. So what gives? Would we care as much if she worked at Wal-Mart? Probably not. For the record, no one at Wal-Mart looks like Megan Fox. They usually look like this guy.

Check me out in transformers 4!

Now I'm not trying to run her down or anything. I wouldn't wish harm upon her or desire to take away her success. I'm just saying it would be far more efficient if we as a society collectively cut her a check and moved along to the next "it" girl. Maybe it's unfair of me to judge her acting prowess by the one movie I have seen her in, but I saw more lifelike performances from the computer generated robots then I did from her. To be fair, I can only imagine that her directions in the script were, "look sexy on the motorcycle," "look sexy in shorts," "look sexy running from danger." Come to think of it this is the way I thought of Megatron as well.

Look sexy in shorts? Damn Right!

Maybe I have just seen this cycle play out too many times. Before Megan Fox it was Jessica Biel, before that Jessica Alba, or Scarlett Johansson, Kirsten Dunst, Angelina Jolie, yadda, yadda. Not that I am dismissing any of these ladies for lack of talent. It's just that our fascination went far beyond the amount of talent displayed. Angelina Jolie may have won an academy award but Meryl Streep has won a jillion and you never hear much about her.

I don't think it's necessarily wrong for anyone to admire the physical beauty of a person. I'm certainly not making any sort of sexism or objectification argument here, but if we actually care about acting in movies, shouldn't acting be more vital than appearance? I think, It actually detracts from the movie when someone is too attractive. Frankly, I'm still having trouble believing that Megan Fox would fall for Shia Lebeouf regardless of the amount of killer robots around. Call me old fashioned but it just doesn't seem plausible. I find myself looking at the screen and thinking "at some point she is going to run out on him and then he will get back to ruining all of my childhood memories with crappy summer blockbuster movies."

Maybe I need to cut her some slack here. I mean, after all she isn't the one in charge of the hype machine. Some guy in a suit crunches some numbers and decides how much to spend promoting her and how much that in turn will bring in. It's very possible that she is actually a talented thoughtful pleasant down to earth woman who is just along for the ride on the celebrity rollercoaster. Maybe I should hear what she has to say.

"I don't want to have to be like a Scarlett Johansson, who I have nothing against, but I don't want to have to go on talk shows and pull out every single SAT word I've ever learned to prove, like, 'Take me seriously, I am intelligent, I can speak.' I don't want to have to do that. I resent having to prove that I'm not a retard ? but I do. And part of it is my own fault."

Ok...Fair enough. She's kind of making a valid point. It seems she's saying that she is a regular person who is aware of the hypersensitivity that celebrities are subject to and she knows her strengths and limitations. Alright so far so..

"I'm horrible to live with. I don't clean. My clothes end up wherever I take them off. I forget to flush the toilet. Friends will tell me, 'Megan, you totally pinched a loaf in my toilet and didn't flush.'"

Um..Honest I guess. Kind of earthy and gross, but honest at least. I think I'm beginning to see where...

"If you eat Chinese food, your farts come out like Chinese food. If you eat Mexican food, your farts come out like Mexican food. And milk, it's like, you can smell the warmth in the fart. My wardrobe on 'Transformers' always smells like farts, and I have no idea why."

Wow she is actually retarded.

Well then. I guess all I can say at this point is good luck with everything Megan. It's been fun.

So take me down. To the infirmary.

2009-09-12T23:59:00.000-07:00

"Everyone has days like I'm having. Holding on to anything that I can."
-Todd Snider- I spoke as a child

The return to blogging made me smile a bit. I realized, after the fact of course, how important it was to me. In a sense it was a bit like the frog in a pot experiment. Put the frog in boiling water, it panics, it leaps, it knows the peril it is in. But if you put the frog in cool water and continuously raise the temperature by one degree, the frog will acclimate and boil away without a grumble. For a while I boiled away without a grumble. Truth be told, I replaced writing with other activities. For anyone who has come out to see me perform in the last year, it is pretty obvious where my time went. I love being on a stage. I love making people laugh and I love the construction of new material. But if I was completely honest, which is the goal of this sort of thing, I would admit that I have cheated myself a bit. Writing has always been the thing I enjoyed more than any other. Just stringing words together and seeing what happens. There is a joy in that which I haven't been able to recreate in anything else. Lately, I have introduced more written elements into my comedy performance, and I have been happier and more successful than ever. The funny thing is, something is always lost from page to stage. Words written in careful consideration have a way of shifting into something else when read aloud. Sometimes that is better, sometimes that is worse. The real truth is that while I have tried so hard to push myself to write, I have produced less then I am used to.

"And now my ashtrays overflowin' And I 'm still staring at a clean white page."
-Conner Oberst- Another Traveling Song

I guess one thing we all do is search for our happiness where we can find it. We expect it to be in one place and if it's not we seek it elsewhere. Inversely, when we find more joy elsewhere we replace what we have with something new. Unhappy at work? Replace it. Unhappy at home? Replace it. Unhappy with who you are with? Replace it. I think this is addiction in a nutshell. Whether it's drugs, alcohol, gambling, sex, shopping, or some combination thereof, we manufacture happiness by covering our wounds with a never ending supply of band-aids.

Not that there is anything necessarily wrong with this. It seems perfectly natural to want to be happy. Given the alternative, it seems like the easy choice to make. Sometimes though, these remedies wear off. All of the effort we have put towards our endeavors ends up fruitless. Whether it's drugs, sex, god, shopping, or any other activity, there is a time when they don't carry the same punch as we hope. Of course when our easy answers don't work, finding the real answers can seem like a monumental task. So where to begin?

"All my people right here, right now. You know what I mean?"
Noel Gallagher- Do you know what I mean?

I have no answers for anyone. At one point in my life I thought I did. I had that stretch in my early twenties where I had it all figured out. I knew it alI. Even the things I didn't know, I knew. I could argue with anyone and no one could prove me wrong. Looking back I might have been utterly awful. I'm not unique in this. Possibly the only real thing of value I have learned in the interim between then and now is that then I knew shit and now I know shit plus 10 or so years. I can't remember the Buddhist quote about having to realize that you know nothing to truly learn anything, but I think I have the sentiment.

I'm not aware of too many things. I know what I know if you know what I mean."
Edie Brickell- What I am

I always postured myself as a happy person. Perhaps more "happy-go-lucky" than happy. I can't say that I always have been happy, but at bare minimum I I make the best and roll with whatever comes my way. I wrote once about the universe. More specifically about how you shouldn't shake your fist at it and yell "is that all you got?" This is bad behavior. Not that I believe in angering a higher power and getting a good smiting. I just view it as hubris and possibly arrogance. Negativity begats negativity. I have always found that the universe has plenty of negativity for me without my flagging it down and inviting it in. Even with my best positive demeanor, the universe has a stockpile of negativity to send my way. So in a way, positivity begats negativity. Funny how that happens.

"Oh life is bigger. Bigger than you and you are not me."
Michael Stipe- Losing my religion

There is no karma. There is no fate. The is only what we make. Everything we have, or don't have, is based upon our random mass of circumstance and how we receive it. I'm not criticizing anyone's beliefs, religion or general outlook, but however you perceive order in this chaos is your own business and I am most likely not following your lead.

I suppose this might all be perceived as melancholy. Fair enough. I make no illusions about the things I write and certainly offer no apologies. If I wrote what I thought would please others and withheld honesty then I wouldn't value it. I wouldn't expect others to value it either. Perhaps the scariest thing I can say is that each year I feel less of the youthful optimism which was my standby and instead feel cynicism creeping in. That is a sentence that pains me to write. Cynicism is the only swear word I have left. All the others are just crude forms of concepts that we have more polite ways of expressing. Cynicism by definition is a vile trait for a person to exemplify. To be a cynic is to have given up. To have no hope and no will to try. It's a scary thought.

"Old man take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you."
Neil Young- Old Man

I am 13,028 days old. In a certain sense that is 13,028 opportunities for good to happen. The inverse is that there have been 13,028 days with a big target on my back waiting to be hit. Depends on perspective I guess. I think we all know people for whom everything seems to work. I think "charmed life," is the phrase usually used. There are two ways to approach these people. the first is to envy them. The second is to kill and eat them in order to gain their power. I don't recommend either of these. Finding a third way that works for you seems like the preferable option.

"These are days you'll remember"
Natalie Merchant- These are days

What all this boils down to is that there are days when I think I have had my fill. I find myself overflowing with all that I would rather not deal with. The economy sucks. Swine flu is coming. Rent is due. The alarm clock rings. My girlfriend has terminal cancer. The car needs repair. Work piles up. A friend dies. I'm out of cigarettes. My chest hurts. My girlfriend leaves me. Seldom do I see my children. Everyone expects me to make them laugh. And so on, and so on. We all have our lists. None of us are special or unique in this sense. It's how you deal with your list that differentiates you.

I'm tired of advice as well. People who tell you how to be happy are possibly the greatest impediments to happiness I can imagine. The people who tell you how to be happy are happy themselves. They have the benefit of options and the clarity that happiness provides. Imagine someone standing in shangra-la telling you that you should join them. For them it's so easy. They are immersed in happy. It seems so natural and effortless. They can't comprehend that many people don't have the map and even if they did the roadblocks in front of them are too large to navigate. Don't worry, be happy? It's easy to not worry when you have nothing to worry about. Ask the single mother who can't feed her children how ignoring her problems is going. Ask the soldier fighting the pointless war to ignore the bullets and shrapnel. Ask the poor, or sick, or isolated to put on a happy face. While you are at it, trivialize their struggles and laugh at their pain.

Everyone seems to have a happiness cure. Precious few of these people are altruists. Happiness doesn't come cheap these days. It's $19.95 at Barnes and Noble. $74.50 at the pharmacy or 10% of your take home pay at the church. You can't put a price on happiness. Wait, who am I kidding?

"Money, its a hit. Don't give me that do goody good bullshit."
Roger Waters- Money

Again, we all need something. If the alternatives are finding happiness vs. giving in and quitting on life, I suspect the former is the better choice for most. If writing a check works, by all means do it. It doesn't work for me but I am not you. (Thanks for reminding me Michael Stipe) Maybe I have finally had enough things happen where the concept seems so remote and foreign that it is more myth than reality. Maybe many other people out there are like me. I would certainly wish happiness on anyone who reads this. Most of you are my friends. Some ex-friends. Some family. Some strangers. Regardless I hope you have pieced together what works for you.

Can't imagine this was much fun to read. It wasn't fun to write. That's not an apology. I know people usually look for a chuckle or two in these things. I didn't have it in me tonight. If history serves me well, I will soon. Take care everyone.

"A little out of place. A little out of tune. Sort of lost in space. Racin' the moon. Climbing the walls. Of this hurricane. Still overall. I can't complain."
Todd Snider- Can't Complain

Ease on down, ease on down the road.

2009-09-07T15:06:00.000-07:00

Well then. Been a few days since I typed one of these. What to do, what to do?

So I just watched the trailer for the upcoming film "The Road." The film is based on the Pulitzer prize winning novel, not to mention Oprah book club favorite, by Cormac McCarthy. There is quite a bit of buzz surrounding the film as you might expect given the nature of the source material. Now I like a good post-apocalyptic exercise in bleakness and despair as much as the next guy. In fact I probably like it more than the next guy. The concept of a hopeless future complete with a dystopian wasteland is a theme I have always been fascinated with. So, like millions of others I "read" this book. Of course I mean "read" in the sense of listening to the unabridged audio book at work. So technically I can count myself amongst the people qualified to render an opinion. As far as book reviews I have seen so far go, this book is a five alarm, grand slam, smorgasboard of literary genius. Critics have fallen over themselves heaping praise upon it. The words "haunting" and "heartbreaking" frequently come up. In other words, the book is almost universally celebrated as a masterpiece. Entertainment weekly even went so far as to name "The Road" the best work of the last 25 years. Crikey, that's a lot of praise! I guess I will throw my hat into the ring. So here I go.

I found "The Road" to be quite possibly the most tedious, disapointing, dull, lifeless experiment in boredom I have ever had the pleasure of occupying my brain with.

Whew! Got that off my chest. I feel better. How about you?

Now I'm sure many of you are saying, "Jay, gosh darnit! I liked The Road! What gives?" First of all, I acknowledge that many people genuinely liked "The Road." Notice I said "liked" instead of "enjoyed." Secondly, I enjoy the phrase "what gives" please continue to use it in the future.

My problems with "The Road" are pretty straight forward. Let's begin with the plot.

*Warning, spoiler alerts! If you haven't read the book I am giving away each and interesting element in the book!*

Actually I don't care if I am giving anything away. Frankly there isn't much to give. For simplicity's sake I will sum up the novel in a few short bullet points.

1. Something bad happened to Earth
2. A man and his son go walking around.
3. One exciting thing happens
4. The man ultimately does not fare well.

There you go. Hope that got your blood pumping. If you prefer you can read the novel and spread that excitement over 250 pages. Look, I know the movie trailer might have convinced you that other things happened, but rest assured they did not. I'm serious. An old man and his son walked around. They walked around for 250 pages. If you want a comparison, imagine the Lord of The Rings trilogy. Remove all of the warriors, orcs, wizards, dialog, sense of purpose, etc. Now take Frodo and Gandalf and have them walk from the shire to Mordor with basically nothing happening en route. Throw in a little, no sort of resolution ending, add a few critics and voila! That's the best thing written in the last 25 years!

Gee, sure hope nothing happens on this journey.

Don't get me wrong here. I'm a fan of subtlety. I don't feel like there needs to be sensational events every few pages to keep me entertained. I like to think that I can navigate through a work without excessive hand holding. But is it too much to ask for a point in the right direction?

"Apocalyptic future eh? Wonder how that happened. Eh, who knows? And who cares? We have walking to get to!"

Many people have theorized that nuclear holocaust or some massive environmental event led to the bleak future presented in the book. Could be I guess. Certainly sounds plausible. I guess when you read 250 or so pages dealing with a dark and forbidding future, you kind of expect some kind of resolution. Maybe some release of the tension that seemed to be the entire focus of the book. Yeah, you might expect that. But in the words of Waring Hudsucker, "tough titty toenails." You ain't getting it my friend.

What could have cause such destruction? Oh well, never mind.

Not a word in the book in any way references what has happened. Imagine you are with one of the few remaining people in the world. There is nothing to eat, the sky is abnormally dark and all the plants have died. Wouldn't you at some point look for an answer or two? Maybe just some good old intellectual curiosity. Apparently not. Looks like in the future people just get on with things without asking questions. It's really like we get to make our own story here. What fun! And so much easier on the author! Almost like those choose your own adventure books that were so much fun in grade school!

Putting the plot aside, there are some things to like. Like having two main characters who don't do any of that tiresome character development that authors like so much. Old man Is grumpy and sick, young boy is scared and whiny. If it's good enough one page one why change it? Of course some people like to care about characters for reasons other then just that they are the first ones presented in the book. Some sort of depth or interesting facet of personality. Well screw them! If 250 pages of non events aren't enough for you, then I'm not sure what to say.

You know how people tell you that the book is always better than the movie? After seeing the trailer for "The Road," I can't imagine that being the case. In 30 seconds more happened than in the 7 hours the book lasts. I'm not kidding here. There were more scenes with things happening then there were in the whole book. One more time.. More things happened in the movie trailer then there were in the book! Watch it for yourself. Armed bandits? Guns? Fighting? Charlize Theron? Looks good right? None of that in the book. Seriously. This book is so dull and devoid of action that they created more for the movie. Most movies leave things out to avoid having 6 hour behemoths that no one would go see. This movie actually had to add content. Don't believe me? Take a gander at the imdb page for the film Here. Now go read the book, I'll wait....Ok you're back. Notice how there are about 50 character in the movie? Count how many there were in the book. Hmmm? On a positive note you don't see the mother at all in the book on account her being dead and all. But the movie has the mother and here she is.

Movie1- Book 0.

Maybe I am belaboring the point a bit. But what the hell, I haven't blogged in 8 months so I might as well get it out of the way now. This is the last point I will make here. One of the strengths people always point out about the novel is the descriptive nature of Cormac's prose. For this I can't fault the man. He can turn a phrase. I guess describing nothingness poetically is still poetic on some level. Let's give it a try!

The Appointment book
Absent were the telltale spots and crinkles. The page, lonely, unturned. It's stark whiteness broken only by the lividity of it's pre printed numbers. No inky smudge nor dusky thumbprint left by any eager perusal. Squares of forsaken white enveloped by obsidian boundaries. No appointments. No obligations. Only the empty void. Empty, cold, barren, isolated. Bereft of contact. Hidden from the very touch, the life, the spark that exists between the living. No, there were no appointments today. Nor would there be...evermore.

Wow, that's fun! I think I'm on to something here! I got excited just looking at my empty calender. Just think what I could come up with about empty spiral notebooks!

Anywho. Glad to be back people. It's good to get that pent up snarkiness out of the way. I feel better already. And Cormac if you are reading, no offense. I really did like "No Country for Old Men." See you next time. I'm off to write the best novel of the next 25 years.

One toke over the line sweet Jesus

2009-02-10T17:47:00.000-08:00

Maybe I’m a little late to weigh in on this but what the heck. Recently Michael Phelps our most recent Olympic superhero went and did something unforgivable. Are you ready? Sitting down? Strapped in and braced for impact? He smoked some weed out of a bong at an actual party. Hang on, I’m sweaty and my breathing is shallow. Can you even imagine such a thing? A young man with his whole future ahead of him callously throwing it all away. It’s heartbreaking. Actually it would be heartbreaking if I could muster up even the slightest amount of concern for Michael Phelps.

I couldn’t care any less about this story. On a scale of one to ten I rate this as a "didn’t even care to rate it because I was so unbelievably not concerned." Which I guess equates to a zero minus. Really, who cares at this point? Maybe the funniest aspect of this all is that people were actually talking about taking away his Olympic medals. Some thought he was a bad example, some thought he was undeserving of such honors and one guy even claimed marijuana could technically be considered “performance enhancing.” When I read that last bit I actually began giggling uncontrollably.

For my whole life I was told that weed would corrupt my mind and destroy my body. Now they are telling me that it could help my athletic ability. Who knew? Talk about sending a weird message to kids. And that’s another thing. Phelps is 23 friggin years old. We expect him to be a role model for kids when he is almost still a kid himself. And what kids are so into swimming that they are influenced by the actions of a famous swimmer? None that I know. Most kids I know are influenced by movie stars and rap artists. Look around when kids stop wearing ass revealing pants and start sporting Speedos than we might have a problem.

I’m not here to tell people to smoke or not smoke weed. Or to do or not do any other drugs for that matter. I can’t be bothered with what other adults do in their private lives. Simply can’t be bothered. Personally aside from tobacco and the occasional drink of alcohol I don’t do any drugs. I don’t even like taking aspirin. That being said, why do I care what someone else does in their home? And let’s not even start on the, “would you want your doctor to smoke marijuana” argument. Some short sided individual always brings this nonsense up.

“But Jay, if weed is legal, what is to stop your doctor from coming to work stoned?”

Um, I don’t know. Maybe the same thing that stops him from coming in to work drunk or hopped up on red bull. What do they call it? Oh yeah, personal responsibility. And by the way, I couldn’t care less if my doctor smoked a little in his private time. I think they might call it private time for that very reason. It’s private. As in, mind yours, I’ll mind mine. I’m going to take a quick mental poll here. Let’s see…How many of my friends, associates or co-workers smoke on occasion? Hmmm…Approximately a million skillion. How many of them are degenerate losers. Hmmmm…One, maybe two. That’s right. Nearly all of them get up, go to work, take care of their kids and generally live their lives. Trying hard to think of people I know who have thrown their lives away for pot. Hmmm…give me a minute, or a week depending on how much time you got to wait. Oh yeah, let me contrast that with the number who have screwed up or damaged themselves with alcohol, cigarettes, fast food, sugar or any number of legal products. Hmm…quite a friggin few. Well that was fun. I’m going to do a bit of research real quick, be right back.

Ok, that didn’t take long. I just wanted to see the number of people who have died from pot smoking in the past ten years. Hmm…interesting there were approximately..(carry the two)..zero. Oh I see. And from alcohol? Roughly 1.5 million. Cigarettes? 4.3 million. Prescription drugs? Over 1 million. Vending machines? About 20. So in other words, you are statistically more likely to die being crushed by a vending machine than by smoking marijuana. Krikey, I wonder if the I.O.C has any idea of how many vending machines Phelps has used.

Ok, I have rambled. I’m not here to evangelize for any sort of illegal drug. If that’s your thing, do em’ If it’s not, don’t. Let’s just move past all the nonsense. If a 23 year old 8 time Olympic champion wants to smoke a bong now and again, what the hell do I care? Actually, I hope Michael Phelps grows up to be a doctor.

Perfection to D is quite essential

2008-12-17T18:18:00.000-08:00

I have thought a lot lately about films. Whether making them or watching them two things about their creation ultimately strike me.

1. it’s a lot of work
2. What pleases one person will not necessarily please another.

I have spent a great deal of time in my life arguing, debating, interpreting, praising, panning and critiquing films. Ultimately, my opinion is no more or less valid than anyone else's. What constitutes excellence to me very likely means bollocks to someone else. The inverse is also very likely to be true. Film, like any art, truly relies on the opinions of the beholder. With that having been said, I think some "truths" are still out there. Ben Hur is epic, Hitchcock was pretty good, and Jessica Biel is a lousy but really hot actress. So if we can all agree on those points there is something I want to touch on.

Perfection. From what I can gather it's an impossibility. A film might be excellent, genius, ground breaking on life changing, but perfect is not an attainable quality. I think it boils down to a pretty simple idea. Sustainability. It may be possible to have a perfect snapshot, moment or sentiment, but maintaining a balance between theme, characterization, pacing, tension and artistry over the course of two hours or more is beyond any expectation. That's not to say that people don't try. It's certainly a worthwhile goal and I applaud those who truly attempt it. No one has ever gotten there however, and no one ever will. Sometimes people come pretty close, and that is what I am going to talk about.

This all may seem petty, niggling or even nit-picky. Fair enough, it is. I am going to nitpick over some minor points in some of the greatest films of all time. Why? Because like the wise man once answered the question of why we climb the mountain, because it is there.
Before anyone starts in let me make a point. I have never achieved anything remotely as impressive or noteworthy as any of these films. Each one of these is a recognized classic. Personally I love every one of these films. Each is a masterwork and stands as a monument to how good filmmaking can be. That said, each dropped the ball at least once. Coming from a guy who relies on actors with sombreros and fake mustaches to play evil robots, I know what I am talking about.

Warning!!! Spoiler alert!! If you haven't seen these old movies yet, quit screwin' around and get on it!

1. The Godfather- 1972

Why it's nearly perfect-

To begin with, the cast is excellent. Brando, Pacino, Duvall, Caan. They all are perfectly cast and play their parts with absolute precision. The movie is epic, sprawling and balances glamour and beauty with the dirty world of mafia life. All modern gangster movies draw from this film for good reason. The lines are memorable, the cinematography is grand and the images are timeless. Really, who looks at horses the same way after seeing this film?

Where they dropped the ball-

Ok, Sonny (James Caan) gets pissed at Marco (Some guy) because Marco beats his wife (Talia Shire) who happens to be Sonny's sister. Sonny tracks down Marco and proceeds to severely attack the air surrounding Marco but never actually Marco himself. Seriously. Francis Ford Coppola who went on to direct many other films including a few where fights look plausible (the outsiders for effin sake) , gave us a pro wrestling level fight scene in an otherwise impeccable film. Anyone, and I mean anyone, can film a basic fight scene.

Rule one: Place the camera behind who is getting punched.

Rule two: When slamming a trash can onto a person, have the can actually hit them.
That right there is enough to fix the scene. Or cut it and show a really badly beaten Marco and infer the action. Either way, the scene bugs me every time.

2. The Sting- 1973

Why it is nearly perfect-

Three words Shaw, Newman, Redford. Newman is great as the old time conman. Redford is great as the young guy learning the ropes. Shaw is great as the ruthless gangster who gets ripped off. It’s beautiful, funny and slick before slick movies were made. It won several awards and stands as an excellent film.

Where they dropped the ball-

Redford meets a girl in a cafe who turns out to be a hitman. Er..hitwoman....Um, hitperson? Anyway. She works there, he likes her but she's going to kill him. Fortunately this does not happen and everything turns out well.

So let's see. She is a noteworthy hitman who just happens to work in the restaurant that Redford just happens to go into because it happens to be next to the hotel he is staying in. Wow, what a coincidence! Not to mention how strange it must have been for the owners of the restaurant to come in one day and find a new girl working the register.

"Did you hire her?"

"No, I thought you did."

"I'd ask her to leave but remember how she left in the middle of her shift and shot that guy?"

"Yeah, best leave it alone. It's ok, she'll probably be dead by the end of the movie anyway."

It's a pretty big plot hole. Plus she doesn't look like Redford's type if you catch my drift. Not to be overly critical, but if you want to give the appearance of someone being bewitched by a lady, don't have that lady look like a man.

3. Citizen Kane- 1941

Why it is nearly perfect-

What can you say here? This movie is consistently voted the top American film of all time. Wonderfully written, acted, directed and produced. So good job Orson Welles on all counts. Welles took aim at William Randolph Hurst and skewered him pretty good. Just getting the film made and in theaters with Hurst as an enemy was impressive enough. It's a shame that its true place in film history wasn't recognized until far after its release.

Where they dropped the ball-

Welles has a musical number where he sings and dances. I repeat. Welles sings and dances in this impromptu musical scene. It makes no sense. I mean did everyone in the restaurant just know the words, or had the rehearsed before in case Kane came in? Or, when a song is so good does it just come to people through divine intervention? And if there is such a thing as divine intervention wouldn't it have told Welles that he was going to look like a horse's ass?

4. Dr. Strangelove- 1964

Why it is nearly perfect-

I could go on for days about this film. It is perhaps the finest comedy of all time, written and directed by one of the greatest directors of all time. George C. Scott is unbelievable, and Peter Sellers is flawless plying all three of his roles. The dialog is sharp, the script edgy and the social commentary is biting. Some of the most memorable lines in movie history are in here. While modern comedy relies so much on base level jokes and fart noises, this film weaves excellent dialog and performances together to make a truly funny and timeless masterpiece.

Where they dropped the ball-

The coke machine. The damn coke machine. Perfect before, perfect after but the coke machine is so.....cornbally? Slapsticky? Hokey? Any of these will do. A great scene gets sidetracked by an instant that does not fit. And it was so close.

5. Schindler's List - 1993

Why it is nearly perfect-

It is nearly flawless. It is a brutal, unflinching heart wrenching look at what life was like for Jews in work camps. The imagery, historical importance and sheer anguish of this film made it an instant classic and recipient of a zillion awards. There is something to be said about a 3 1/2 hour film that is almost entirely depressing that still makes you want to see it over and over again.

Where they dropped the ball-

In the home stretch. Schindler (Liam Neeson) receives a ring as a token of esteem from the workers in his factory. He had basically saved all of their lives at great risk to himself both financially and physically. We could sense his emotion and the emotion of all of the workers. The gift was a small but touching tribute to a man who did a great thing despite great opposition. And he.......drops it. Unnaturally drops it to the ground for no other reason than to show how much he cares by frantically searching the ground for it. Pointless, redundant schmaltz. That's what it was. The scene was perfect and someone had to belabor the point and ultimately diminish it. He was 5 minutes away from a perfect film and he missed a layup.

So there you go. Nitpicking at its finest. I'm sure I will have disagreement. Actually I count on it. Let me hear ya. I just summarized about 20 academy awards into a few sentences of petty quibbles. That's a good day’s work in my book. Some day when I have a near perfect film I expect nothing less than this sort of hair splitting. Until then.......

I'm a P.C and I'm pissed

2008-11-09T20:21:00.000-08:00

I saw one of those ads today. You know the ones I mean. The Mac ads with the fat guy and the smug hipsterish kid. These ads always let me know that because I use a p.c. instead of a mac I am

a. way behind the curve
b. sexually unnattractive

Ok fine. Marketing ploys are marketing ploys. I understand apple has a tradition of making hip, innovative products. Sure, Ipods are pretty cool, macs are generally sleeker and the applications they produce vary from interesting curiosities to outright must haves. But hey apple, I have have request for you

Can I please register for your online video contest, or do I have to drive out to your fucking headquarters to do it in person?

That's all I'm asking here. Really, That's it. I went to your website earlier. What I was trying to do was register for the Insomnia 24 hour film contest. You see I just heard about it and it's the sort of thing that is up my alley. So I went to your site and tried to register. It seemed easy.

Step one. Click the button that says "Register now."
Steps two- one thousand. Get really pissed off and embarrass myself infront of the entire computer lab.

Maybe my first hint of a problem was when the button that said, and this is a direct quote, "register now" didn't do anything. Not like just didn't work, or started to work and then froze. What I mean here is, the button on your website isn't a button you tragically hip assholes! Instead of a button that you, I don't know...click, you get a void. A useless piece of text that instructs you to do something that you can't do. That's quality work...dicks.

I also tried to click the hyperlinked text above the button. I figured some text that was once again inviting me to do something might actually let me do it. Let's see where it takes me. Oooooh, the home page for the gallery of previously entered teams. Oooooh what fun! Now I can look at all the people who the website actually worked for! Why don't you just send out emails to handicapped people inviting them to look at pictures of people who can walk and stuff? Heartless bastards.

I know what you people are saying.

"Hey, Jay, you have to be doing something wrong. I mean, Apple has their shit together. They certainly wouldn't put together a website that just takes you into an endless loop between three pages each sending you to an equally useless location."

No, they first made me create a log-in and share some personal information before they took me into an endless loop between three pages each sending you to an equally useless location. Ass bandits.

But please someone send me an email telling about their award winning customer service. I'm dying to hear about how a website that offers you no way to connect directly to anyone has won awards. Sure you can call a number if you have purchased a laptop, I-phone or one of the thousand varieties of pods out there. But got a problem with the web site? Three words for ya.

1. Go
2. Fuck
3. Yourself

Spite. That's what I have for them. They just work. Tee hee hee. Really, do they? I have been through hundreds, Hell, thousands of websites. I have registered, purchased, signed up and logged in to more things than I would care for myself or the FBI to remember. Never have I experienced the joy of log-in, click here to register, you are logged in, click to continue, click here to register, you are logged in, click to continue, ad-in fucking-finitum.

What do I do now smug little mac fella? Please tell me about how Vista sucks. That will ease my mind. Crow about the dozen or so products that are exclusive to your platform that I just can't live without. Convince me that a laptop or desktop of yours that is double the price of a similarly configured p.c is the smart choice. While you're at it, tell me what overpriced coffee I should drink, what clothes are cool this season, how I can achieve the perfect cool hairdo and what new niche application I absolutely need to add value to my life. I need you now tonight Apple. I need you more than ever.

I'll try again tomorrow to register for your contest. I know I can log-in, the rest is up to you. By the way having your mailing address as "1 Infinite Loop" is either really funny or really sadistic. I am currently trying to figure out which.

Award winning my ass.

You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows

2008-10-23T18:43:00.000-07:00

So...look out kid.

Hey everybody. I realized something recently. Actually it was something I already knew, but it finally presented itself in a way I could not ignore. I, like many of you out there, live in a battleground state. Wait calm down. I'm not suggesting that there are actual battles going on unless of course you are living in Detroit. What I mean is, the polls in the upcoming election are split down the middle. So that means that roughly 50% of us are voting Obama/Biden and the other 50% are voting McCain/Palen. I know, a small amount of you are either not voting or giving your vote to Nader, Bob Barr, Cynthia Mckinney or some other person. What I am saying here is. The two probable winners are getting roughly half of the vote each. So...What that means in practical terms is that each of the two parties are very interested in convincing you to vote for their candidate. In even more practical terms that means that you are probably pretty close to fed up with the constant yammering in the form of t.v. ads, phone calls, direct mail pieces and other such nonsense. Not me though. I have gotten more entertainment lately than I have in a while. Just last night I had a doozy.

Ring...Ring..

Hello?

Hi this is Rudy Gulianni. Did you know that leftist, commie pinko fag junkies have infiltrated the judiciary and are seeking to rob you and your family of their god given rights? Well, If Obama gets in, he and Nancy Pelosi and these activist judges are plotting to bend you over and ram their agendas into places where the good lord never intended. Even the women ones, who might not be "all woman" if you follow my drift. So vote for McCain and the sexy governer wink machine like god intended. If not, don't come crying to me for help. Thank you and God bless America. This message paid for by Democrats are in league with Satan, Roy Finklestein treasurer.

And this is one of the more sensible messages I have received. I got a pamphlet telling me about William Ayers. It had a quote about his time as a radical in the 60's. In a nutshell, it said he doesn't regret plotting to bomb government offices and he regrets he did not do more (to protest the Vietnam war) Actually I think he said this. From the layout of the pamphlet the qoute was placed right next to Barack Obama. Apparently if I am looking at it correctly, Obama left Hawaii at age 8, travelled to D.C and made some seroious plans to blow some shit up. Presumably he did this when his grade school had a three day weekend. It's all a bit unclear. I thought Ayers was a former 60's radical who later went on to become a professor and served on a board at the behest of a former Reagan aide with Obama and a few republicans. It seems he and Obama are actually best buddies who like to kick back, have a beer and plan ways to detonate major government buildings. Who knew?

The NRA also thought I would like to know some information. the sent me a pamphlet alerting me that Obama will be..get ready...you holding on to your seat? THE MOST ANTI GUN PRESIDENT IN THE HISTORY OF THE PLANET!!!!! Wow. I had no idea. From my recollection I thought that Bill Clinton, Al Gore and John Kerry all had recently set that record. At least that's what I was told in 92, 96, 2000 and 2004. Man who would have thought that such a monumental benchmark could have been surpassed so frequently? It makes Michael Phelps look a little lackluster by comparison.

After careful consideration I came to this conclusion. If I vote for Obama it's only a matter of time before he breaks into my home, rapes my grandmother, eats my children, raises my taxes, aborts any unborn fetuses I might have, runs up a huge deficit and forces me to marry a man of Muslim descent. Geez. That sounds pretty bad.

I'm trying to think of any materials I have recieved about McCain lately. Um....let's look....no...nothing. I guess he must be ok then. Thats a relief. I had a sneaking suspicion for a while that he was an out of touch, war promoting, rash decision making, voting with Bush over 90% of the timing, grouchy fusspot. I guess I was wrong. I mean, if one side isn't engaging in gutter politics than there can't really be anything bad to say can there? Well then, my mind is made up. I'm off to rally for McCain. Right after I watch this neat DVD that that came in the mail about how evil Muslims are. It's from the Rublican party. It should be good. They have never steered me wrong before.

Anticipation. Is making me late, is keepin' me waitin'

2008-09-30T17:45:00.000-07:00

Bureaucrat (byoo r-uh-krat)
1. An official of a bureaucracy.
2. An official who is rigidly devoted to the details of administrative procedure.

So where do I begin? I guess I will go back a few steps so we can all enjoy the fun. I am currently waiting for some paperwork from the state. The kind of stuff that officially has to come from some building near the capitol. Our capitol here is in Jefferson City (official motto: dirtier than you would expect from a town this size!) I was a bit anxious because official paperwork tends to be important. Kind of like if you were getting a business license or adding your name to the sex offender registry. Nothing too serious, but something that I am receiving that they are sending me. Notice the simplicity of that sentence. It really has two main parts. Sending and receiving. Both of these words have pretty simple definitions. There really is not much grey area involved here. In essence it’s kind of an agreement. You agree to send me something, and by golly, I will agree to receive it. What could go wrong?

September 1

In an effort to make sure everything was in place, I made a call. The paperwork I was receiving was due on the 16th. The six-teenth. That was the date I was given. It was given to me officially, on an official communication from an official state person. Things seemed on the up and up. I decided to verify this in an official call to the official office. This is the conversation I had.

Me: So the 16th right?
Bureaucrat #1: Yes. The 16th
Me: So….it’s all set? The 16th. Nothing I need to do right?
Bureaucrat #1: No, it will be sent without any action from you on the 16th.

Didn’t seem like I had anything to worry about. I will sleep soundly until…..

September 16th

I checked my mailbox…No paperwork. Hmm, I thought to myself. “That’s queer.” Maybe at some point I misunderstood. I see one potential problem. We might have a semantic difference on what, “on the 16th” means. So I made another call.

Me: Yeah I was supposed to be getting something from you…
Bureaucrat #2: Yeah, it actually went out on the 15th.
Me: Oh, ok. So I should see it soon?
Bureaucrat #2: Please hold….

4 minutes later

Bureaucrat #2: Yes probably tomorrow.
Me: Lovely, thank you.

Ok, mailed on the 15th. That’s nothing to get too worked up over. This kept me content until…..

September 18th

I checked my mailbox somewhere around 25-30 times. Nothing yet. I figured I would make another call just in case. One thing in the back of my mind is that I had recently moved. Maybe this was the problem.

Me: Nothing yet, is there a problem?
Bureaucrat #3: No problem. If it’s not there by the weekend give us a call.
Me: Can I verify my address with you?
Bureaucrat #3: Not really.
Me: Um……
Bureaucrat #3: I can’t tell you your address over the phone.
Me: I know my address I just want to see if you have it right.
Bureaucrat #3: Um…please hold…

4 minutes later

Bureaucrat #3: What is your zip code?
Me: 65201
Bureaucrat #3: Oh, that’s not what we have…..Um…..please hold.

7 minutes later

Bureaucrat #3: We have to wait until the original gets back to us before we can do anything.
Me: um…..
Bureaucrat #3: Once we get it returned, we can change your address…Please hold…..

At this point I started to get a bit worried. It’s not that I don’t trust these people. I’m sure they are doing their jobs to the best of their ability, and everything is moving along the way it is supposed to be. Yeah, and you know what else? I’m a naive idiot. I should mention at this point that so far I had committed the cardinal sin of not getting anyone’s name. I thought that in a small government office the likelihood of reaching the same person more than once would be pretty good. Again, I am a paragon of naivety.

September 22nd

I have checked my mailbox a total of 75 times. Nothing. By this point I am 1/3 worried and 2/3 hulk pissed. So I made a call.

Me: Hi I am looking for some paperwork
Bureaucrat #4 (Laurie): Looks like your address was wrong.
Me: Yes. I need to change that. They told me I had to wait until the original is returned. It was mailed on the 15th.
Bureaucrat #4 (Laurie): No the 10th.
Me: The 10th?
Bureaucrat #4: Yes so we will send another on the 24th. That’s 10 business days from the original.
Me: The 10th?
Bureaucrat #4 (Laurie) Yes, and fax me your new address.
Me: Can’t we do it over the phone?
Bureaucrat #4 (Laurie): (aghast) No it needs to be faxed!

I should have known this. Considering that she couldn’t even tell me my address over the phone, it would be likely that my telling her my address would cause some serious trouble. So I faxed my info to Laurie. She really seemed to be on the ball. I felt like I was in good hands.

September 23rd

At this point my mailbox is showing signs of wear. I made another phone call. Surprise!

Me: Hi I talked to Laurie and she changed my address yesterd…
Bureaucrat #5 (Tammy): I don’t see any change of address.
Me: But….
Bureaucrat #5 (Tammy): Fax me your address I will take care of it for you.
Me: Um……
Bureaucrat #5 (Tammy): Please hold….

So I faxed Tammy. Keep in mind my paperwork was supposed to go out the following day. I gave it a few hours and decided to call back to verify.

Me: Hi I had my address changed earlier. I talked to Tammy.
Bureaucrat #6 (Ron): No, this is Ron.
Me: No I know you are Ron, I was saying I talked earlier to Tammy.
Bureaucrat #6 (Ron): I’m not sure I know Tammy.
Me: Isn’t she in your office?
Bureaucrat #6 (Ron): Hmm….Never met her…Please hold..
Me: Um…..

Ok, the long and the short of it is, Ron decided to cut through the bullshit. He took my address over the phone despite the panic that was sure to ensue in the office.

“Over the phone? Ron! What were you thinking? Tammy is going to be so pissed!”

Ron assured me that he was talking to the address changing office directly and they would send it out that day. Ron was the kind of no-nonsense take charge guy you want on your team. Talking to him, I had no doubt that he was doing everything humanly possible to fix my situation. That of course meant that I wouldn’t have to make another call until….

September 24th

I couldn’t help myself. Despite Ron’s assurance I was a little worried. Call me a nervous Nellie, but something made me think that something else might go wrong.

Me: Hi, I just wanted to verify..
Bureaucrat #7 (Mary): No your address is not changed.
Me: But it was supposed to be changed and mailed yesterd..
Bureaucrat #7 (Mary): No…I will talk to them now..Please hold..

13 minutes later

Bureaucrat #7 (Mary): Ok, I got your info to the office that changes addresses. They are working on it.
Me: So when will….
Bureaucrat #7 (Mary): It takes 2-3 days to change an address.
Me: 2-3 days? But…..I…..Yesterday!
Bureaucrat #7 (Mary): Please Hold…

At this point I noticed a little knot of pressure building in my temple. It didn’t hurt, but I could definitely feel it. Eventually When Mary came back she told me they would rush it through. She assured me that everything would be fine and my paperwork would be mailed out soon. Then she told me that she would call me first thing in the morning. She also told me about her plans for peace in the Middle East and cold fusion. Ok, the last two are made up, but they seemed just as likely. So of course I resigned myself to relax until….

September 25th

Mary apparently has different views about what the terms “first thing” and “morning” mean. In other words I didn’t hear from her. So I called. I actually forget what bureaucrat #8’s name was. Claire perhaps? No matter. She assured me that all was well and with my paperwork set to mail out any second, everything looked good. Note that I said, “set to mail out.” Not mailed the previous day, but due to go out sometime soon. At this point the pressure in my temple spread to the rest of my head.

September 29th

Being an optimist I checked my mail roughly 300-400 times between the 26th and 29th. Nothing. Of course I really didn’t expect anything, but I had to at least look. I mean this was a government office. They had to have some rules and protocols that dictated how these things go right? Actually I assumed something terrible. I assumed that all of these people had gotten together and decided to fuck around with me. I know, that is a terrible thing to think, but it is the only thing that really was making any sense. I made a call.

Me: (meekly) Hi
Bureaucrat #9 (John): It went out Friday. Check tomorrow.
Me: (crying) Ok.

So that brings us to today. September 30th. 15 days from when I was supposed to receive it. 20 days from when they supposedly sent it. 29 days after when I first inquired about it. After 10 phone conversations, 2 faxes and numerous assurances, it had to be there today right? I mean it just had to be there. It just wouldn’t be possible for my box to be empty. These are the things I said to myself as I opened the door to my empty mailbox…..One last phone call…..

Me: (broken and humbled) Hi…..nothing….help me….
Nameless bureaucrat # 10: I can’t help you.
Me: Why not?
Nameless bureaucrat # 10: I can’t tell you your address, you can tell it to me but I can’t respond with any indication of what is or isn’t in your file. It takes three days to switch an address. I don’t know when your paperwork originally mailed out. It might have gotten to the mail room, but it takes 2 or 3 days for it to get sent from there. I don’t know when you will receive it, I don’t know its status and I don’t know what to tell you. Thank you, have a nice day, and please hold……….

And that is where we are. The only thing to keep me going is the fact that some time, some day I will unexpectedly open the mailbox and see a letter from the state. It has to happen. I have to believe that it will happen. In an effort to avoid any sort of Federal inquiry I won’t tell you the things I have thought about doing to any of the wonderful people I have encountered with the state. Not doing in a real sense, but actually in that dark corner of your mind that only comes into play with serial killers and masochists. Let’s just say that I wished for really unpleasant things to happen to Laurie, Tammy, Ron, Claire, Mary, and the other nameless, heartless, sub human, cubicle dwelling monsters from Jefferson City. I can honestly say that I hope that cancer runs in your families. I am sending out correspondence to you all to verify my feelings. You should get it by the 10th. I am sending it tomorrow, or the next day. And you know sometimes it takes a few days to get through my shipping department. Let me double check your addresses. That usually only takes a week or so. So wait by your mailbox. Should be there any time now.

It must have been Lent. But it's over now

2008-09-11T18:15:00.000-07:00

Hey there everybody. I realized today that is has been something life almost 2 months since I posted anything here. So…..how have you been? Well life has been busy for me. School, movin, bombing at standup comedy. You know the usual. Since I have been on a 40 day secular Lenten fast from blogging, today I will come back with a flood of current events. You ready, I know I am.

July 20-July 26^th

Where to begin? This week saw the biggest opening for a movie ever with "The Dark Knight." I was maybe the last person on the planet to see this film. Really. I sat there and heard news reports everyday about how some village in Africa was projecting the film onto a rhino's back because they don't even have a theater and they still beat me to it. Call me a nerd but I saw it twice. Yeah it was really friggin' good.

Hurricane Dolly strikes the mainland United States which led thousands of newspaper editors to simultaneously decide that "Hello Dolly!" would be a funny headline. As a general rule newspaper editors are not a funny bunch.

Barrack Obama speaks in front of 200,000 people in Germany. In a response to this, John Mcain was seen at a German sausage house in Minnesota. This would be a solid joke except for the fact that this is true.

Analysis: Good week for me, aside from the hurricane thing. But I live in the midwest so really until there are seasonal tornados in Columbia I think I'm ok.

July 27^th-August 2^nd

Jim David Adkisson stormed into a Unitarian church in Tennessee during a children's production of Annie. Adkisson killed two people with a shotgun and wounded 7 others. He admitted to targeting the church because of their tolerant policy towards liberals and homosexuals. Honestly you would have thought if he hated gays that much he would have waited until there was a performance of West Side Story. Look, I know making fun of people who have died is not funny. Well, sometimes. But anyway. This fellah was a certified nutcase. I'm not just saying that because they found copies of books by Michael Savage, Glen Beck and Sean Hannity in his home, although that's a good reason in and of itself.

In other anti liberal news, George W. Bush signed into law the Housing and Economic Recovery Act. This was designed to halt the subprime mortgage crisis and instill confidence in Fannie May and Freddy Mac. It really worked well and a full scale bailout of the two institutions was averted. . No wait I'm just bullshitting.

Two rescue workers died trying to find survivors of a lost expedition on K2 in the Himalayas. I know people like to climb things but let's be honest here. When a giant sheet of ice breaks off a mountain that you are climbing and kills several people at once, it's kind of nature's way of saying "stop fucking with me."

Analysis: Church killings bad, dead mountaineers bad, failed legislation and financial crisis bad. But I think the weather was also a bit cooler.

August 3^rd -August 9^th

In anti-terrorism news, the former driver of Osama Bin laden is found guilty of a few of the many, many counts against him. It was a bit hard to get revved up about a glorified chauffer, but I guess it's a start.

Also, the FBI names Bruce Ivans, a former scientist is responsible for the Anthrax attacks. Warning..foreshadowing ahead…This story doesn't necessarily turn out well.

Later in the week the Olympics kicked off. If you didn't see the opening ceremony then consider yourself a silly, silly goose. It was a million hours long and featured tens of thousands of performers. Seriously, after seeing how good a ceremony can be it made me reconsider my views about living in an authoritarian society. Seriously… wow. I thought China only produced Sam's choice products and toys with toxic materials. When they put their minds to it though... Shiii-iiit!

Analysis: Let's see the terrorists have to drive themselves around, the anthrax mailer (alleged) is off the streets and the Olympics are rolling. Much better than the previous week.

August 10^th – August 16^th

Michael Phelps started his run towards Olympic gold medal history. Man, I want to be in the Olympics. There has to be a sport that I am good enough in. I thought I was pretty good at ping-pong but then I saw the Chinese women play. Hoooo-leeeeey shiiiiiiiit. They are better than I ever, ever, ever could be. By the way the Polish women involved in the Olympics might be the sexiest group of women ever. I'm not trying to be sexist here. I'm sure they are great at their sport and probably smart and worthwhile in other endeavors, but aesthetically? Whee-haa! To be fair I will take a quick look at the men's Polish athletes and objectify them in the same way. Hmm….ok…..yeah, they are hot as well.

In other good news, Mark David Chapman, the guy who shot John Lennon, was denied parole for the fifth time. You know what? Fuck him. It's pretty well certain he was crazy when he did it, but still. He killed a Beatle. He goes to jail. That's a rule somewhere.

Analysis: Polish girls are really hot.

August 17^th-August 23^rd

In the Olympics Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt easy wins a handful of gold medals. Like him or not I think he might have one of the most appropriate sporting names ever. "Bolt." And he's a sprinter. His parents were either fortune tellers or just very lucky. His name easily wins for sports monikers over turn of the century boxer Jeremiah Headpuncher and the world famous shot-putter Clarence Bigguywhocanthrowshit.

The U.S. and Poland agree to place a missile defense shield in Poland. I hereby volunteer to travel to Poland to help sell the idea to any net related team sport athletes who might have reservations. (hint hint)

Presidential Candidate Barack Obama picks Joe Biden as his running mate. Biden is widely seen as an experienced politician who would be a capable and effective 2^nd in command. Presumably the Republicans will pick someone of similar caliber.

Analysis: Seriously, I will go to Poland

August 24^th- August 30^th

The United States wins the gold medal in men's basketball. This wasn't really a surprise to anyone. Although the finals game was relatively close, the U.S. won their games by an average of….let's see here…a million skillion points.

Barak Obama officially accepts the Democratic nomination for president. Highlighting the week are speeches by his wife, his V.P and Bill and Hillary Clinton. Despite sounding like one of the aliens from Mars attacks, Hillary rouses the crowd and throws her support behind Obama. Bill Clinton also supports Obama in his speech going as far as to praise him as a "sentient carbon based being who very well might have leadership skills as far as he can tell."

In an effort to detract from the momentum gained from the Democratic convention, Republican Nominee John Mcain unveils his Vice Presidential selection. Many felt the pick would be Mitt Romney, Tim Pawlenty, or some other recognizable experienced candidate. To the delight of his party after a vetting process that must have taken several minutes, Mcain chose…Some lady from Alaska that no one ever heard of. Uh….I don't even know what to say here….um…Talk amongst yourselves I need a whole post for this one.

Analysis: Mixed. I feel pretty good, but my brain kind of hurts.

August 31^st- September 6^th

Hurricane Gustav hits the U.S. just as the Republicans are beginning their convention. This of course proves there is a god, and that he/she is a lot funnier than I ever gave credit for. New Orleans is evacuated again although this time they do it before all the water gets there. No major relief effort is needed this time. That is fortunate because the head of FEMA was busy coordinating a neighborhood garage sale that weekend.

In other hurricane news, Hannah and Ike, which incidentally sounds like a show on Nickelodeon, both make their way into the southern part of the U.S. New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin tells residents to, and this is a quote "live somewhere more sensible."

It is reported that Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin's 17 year old daughter is 5 months pregnant. Palin, who is an ardent supporter of abstinence only education in high schools, is asked by a reporter to give her definition of irony in statement of 30 words or less.

In good news, U.S secretary of state Condoleeza Rice meets with Libyan dictator Muammar Khadafy and apparently they are dating. Just kidding. Although real reports from the meeting stated Khadafy was gushing about Rice and calling her "Leeza." Afterwards there were drinks, dancing and even a little light petting. Ok I made up the last part.

Analysis: Who knows? I'm tired.

September 7^th-

Let's see. As far as big news goes. The anniversary of the September 11^th attacks was observed but frankly I missed it because of all the stories about the new IPods that were on t.v. On one hand you had a story about a tragic event that shocked the world and changed the course of history, but on the other hand the new IPods have touch screens. Gee no wonder the skewed coverage.

Ok, I know what a lot of you are saying. Hey, what about the whole Russia-Georgia thing? Frankly, no one understands it. We like the Russians, we don't like the Russians. We like freedom and independence, we don't like freedom and independence. Support one side, both sides, neither side? Who knows? The whole thing makes me crazy. I looked into Putin's eyes and I didn't see his soul, and I was supposed to. I'm damn confused. You figure it out.

Whew! That was a lot of writing. I really have to keep this up on a more regular basis. This two month thing is a little silly. Well thanks for reading. We'll see you again soon.

Jay

Don't get me wrong.........If I come and go like fashion

2008-07-19T23:38:00.000-07:00

Ok then.

What's new? That's the question I asked myself earlier. I was poking around online looking for anything that caught my fancy. In between political message board flaming and funny videos of people hurting themselves I started to notice a trend. Every third or fourth website had some promotion for the new Will Ferrell/ John C. Reiley movie. It's called "Step Brothers." From what I gather it's about two grown men who become step brothers after their adult parents get married.

Now don't get me wrong, I like both of these actors as much as the next guy, but aren't we going to the well once (or ten times) too often? Let's see, Take Ferrell, Reiley, wind em up and let em go. Throw in a little Apatow and we've got a movie right? So to answer my earlier question, What's new? Not much.

To repeat, don't get me wrong. This movie might be funny. It might be really funny. It might make you fall from your seat and rupture several organs in a uncontrollable laugh bonanza. But that is not the point. The point is, is there anyone else in Hollywood making comedies anymore?

I consider myself to be a bit of a movie buff. I have a good grasp of the history. I am able to spot trends. I also know a bit about how movies are written, produced, acted and directed. I'll admit, I am not an expert, but I think I probably have more knowledge than the average movie goer. When it comes to comedy I think I have an even more heightened awareness. I have paid pretty close attention these last 30 or so years, and I like to think I have noticed a thing or two.

One of the things I have noticed is how things seem to go in waves. When an actor does well enough to grab the publics attention, we get fed more of that actor until we get bored. Let's see, in my lifetime we have had the Steve Martin wave, the Chevy Chase wave, The Bill Murray wave, the Richard Pryor wave, the Eddie Murphy wave, the John Candy wave, the Steve Martin Wave (again) , the Adam Sandler wave, the Chris Rock wave, the Jim Carrey wave, the Mike Myers wave, and back to the (comedy, but more serious comedy) Bill Murray wave.. All of these came and went. It's not that the actors weren't around before and after their waves, but the waves represented their peak. For most actors it goes the same way.

Comedian makes a name for himself doing stand up sketch comedy until they build enough of a following to branch out into feature films that do very well commercially for a period of 3-5 years and then a fairly quick cooling off period e which sees the comedian have a few notable failures at the box office leading to less frequent and noteworthy movies.

This happened to every one of these actors. At one point, each of them were the highest paid comic actor in Hollywood. Each one had huge box office success. Each one had a string of successful movies. And each one eventually was replaced by someone else. It seems to be the nature of the industry. In a regular job if you show up to work and do well, you tend to hang around. You never have a situation where one day the boss says.

"Thanks for all of your hard work. It's been nice having you here, but frankly were a little bored with you. What we are going to do is phase you out for someone who people are a little more enthused about."

But that is what happens in the movie industry. In comedy, it seems to happen more abruptly. I think the actors know this. Often we see someone take a role and say, "what were they thinking?" The answer is simple. Today the roles are there, tomorrow they may not be.

For a long time, this seemed to work. There were stars, but there was still a variety. Some of these waves overlapped. Some of the genre comedies overlapped as well. But as a movie goer you always had something outside of the big name at the time. Today it doesn't seem that way. Maybe it seems that way because all of the same names are dominating the box office. I thought I would do a little research. What do you think the odds are that the highest grossing comedies in each of the last 5 years are somehow interconnected? Hmm..... I'll bet that more often than not the top comedies from those years have something in common. Let's start with the next number one guy Steve Carell, throw in Will Ferrell, John C. Reiley, either one of the Wilson brothers and the Whole Judd Apatow camp. That would be Apatow, Seth Rogan, Apatow's co-writers and directors. I'll give myself one point for each time one of these comes up and subtract one point when they don't. I'm being generous here. I'll even leave out Ben Stiller and Jack Black. But to be fair I'll take Vince Vaughn, Ready? Here we go!

2003-

Bruce Almighty- gross: $242,829,261 Steve Carell +1
Elf- gross: $173,398,518 Will Ferell +1
Cheaper by the Dozen- gross: $138,614,544 -1
Anger Management- gross: $135,645,823 John C. Reiley (uncredited) 0
Bringing Down the House- gross:$132,716,677 -1

Ok, 2003, Let's see. This year is a tie. Interestingly we had two Steve Martin comedies and an Adam Sandler movie in here. Two former top men. But notice, the top two. Moving on.

2004-

Meet the Fockers- gross: $279,261,160 Owen Wilson +1
50 First Dates- gross: $120,908,074 -1
Dodgeball- gross: $114,326,736 Vince Vaughn +1
Starsky and Hutch- gross: $88,237,754 Owen Wilson, Vince Vaughn +2
Along Came Polly- gross: $88,097,164 -1

Ok so, 2 more points. This is not even counting Anchorman which finished just outside the top 5. If that would have counted we would have an additional 6 points. Now we are getting somewhere!

2005-

Wedding crashers- gross: $209,255,921 Wilson, Vaughn, Ferrell +3
Hitch- gross: $179,495,555 -1
The Longest Yard- gross: $158,119,460 -1
Fun with Dick and Jane- gross: $110,332,737 Apatow +1
40 year old virgin- gross: $109,449,237 Apatow, Carell, Rogan +3

So 2005 =5 points.This also didn't include Bewitched. But honestly if that made it to any list we should all be ashamed of ourselves.

2006-

Night at the Museum- gross: $250,863,268 -1
Talledega Nights- gross: $148 mil. Adam Mckay, Ferrell, Reiley, Apatow +4
Click- gross: $137,355,633 -1
Borat- gross: $128,505, 958 -1
The Break up gross $118,703,275 Vaughn +1

Not taking Stiller was a mistake. And Jason Bateman for that matter. He's in half of these. Maybe he gets a post of his own. This doesn't take into account Curious George or You, me and Dupree. Still got two points.

2007-

Wild Hogs gross: $168,273,550 -1
Knocked Up gross: $148,768,917 Apatow, Rogan, Carrell +3
Juno gross: $143,495,265 (Michael Cera should count) -1
Superbad gross: $121,463,226 Apatow, Rogan +2
Blades of Glory gross: $118,594,548 Ferrell, Wilson +2

Ok another 5 points. If I had specified Michael Cera I would be through the roof. And what the hell was I thinking not taking Ben Stiller? Seriously. This list would be virtually 100% with him. Dewey Cox was also this year.

2008-
This year is not complete but given a list of upcoming and in production titles there will be plenty to add to this. Of course we have Step Brothers so that will add considerably.

So what have we learned? Well first of all I got 14 points. Second, if you want to make a comedy in Hollywood, it wouldn't hurt to involve a few key people. Again, I'm not saying there is anything wrong with any of these movies, actors, writers, directors or producers. It's just funny how tight the network can get. Don't get me wrong, I'm just sayin.

Blame it on the Bossonova. The dance of love

2008-07-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I notice links to "relationship experts " on yahoo or other such sites. Usually I read them for the sheer entertainment value. Generally they are full of generic and/or useless advice. (Be sincere? Really? Who would have guessed?) Realistically, each person is different so advice broad enough to cover everyone is most likely too vague or impersonal to really help. I'm sure that these folks mean well, but when you think about it, their title is kind of implausible. It's a paradox if you really think about it. To be an "expert" on something, you have to have a significant amount of experience. So logically an expert on successful relationships would have to have had many successful relationships. But if you have had a lot of relationships wouldn't that imply that any individual relationship didn't last all that long? So by a reasonable standard of success, the longer someone is able to maintain a relationship, the more successful they are. But this means less relationships to draw experience from, which in turn means less knowledge.

Think about it this way. Take a couple who has had a happy lifelong relationship. Ask them what the secret is and they will tell you what worked for them. It's probably good advice given their expert status right? Wrong! They will give you advice that would be great help if you wanted to date either of them. This is not a good idea, particularly if you chose your grandparents to ask the question to.

Now look at the other side. Find someone who has had a lot of relationships. You know people like this trust me. Certainly they can tell you what not to do, but do you really want advice from someone who hasn't been able to make a relationship last in many, many tries? Doing something repeatedly doesn't necessarily make you an expert or even any good at it. Trust me, the Chicago Cubs have been playing baseball for over a century using this exact method.

So where are we left? No experts, but no lack of people wanting to give and receive advice. I think it all started with Dear Abbey, Years ago, Pauline Phillips was an unemployed lady who didn't like the local advice column in her newspaper. She went in, complained, and soon found herself as the new advice columnist. She took the pen name "Abigale Van Buren" after our 8th president Martin Van Buren. She did this on the theory that if there was someone who we all could trust it was a mediocre president who was voted out after one term and was the basis for Grandpa on the Munsters.

Not to be outdone, her sister got a column of her own under the name "Ann Landers." Apparently the prevailing notion of the time was if you had a problem, the best course of action was to have a complete stranger with no formal education publicly berate you. The typical Abby column goes like this.

Dear Abby,

My boyfriend tried to sell me to human traffickers from a third world country. They wouldn't take me because of all of the bruises so now he has me locked in a cabinet in our root cellar. Plus he's Jewish and I'm Catholic. I'm wondering, should we get married?

Confused in California.

Abby would typically respond in a straight forward, snippy, Judge Judy sort of way. The scary thing here is that people actually valued her advice. I don't think she was a bad person or necessarily gave bad advice, but if you take advice from a person whose entire analysis of you is from a two paragraph blurb, you deserve what you get.

And that is where we are today. There are columns about health, money, horoscopes, gardening, and most of all relationships. Nowadays they call people like this relationship advisers or dating experts or even (blech) life coaches. And it's more of the same.

Dear (Whoever)

My boyfriend is pressuring me to get married. The other day I came home and found him sleeping with both my sister and my mother. He also emptied my savings account and killed my dog. Often he will break a rib of mine to "get my attention." My main problem is, we can't seem to agree on a pattern for our dishes. I want "early colonial," and he prefers a monster truck motif. What do I do?

Dipshit in Dallas

Years back, we wouldn't have bothered with any of this. Just imagine in caveman times one caveman guy going up to another and saying, "gee ugg, if you really want to understand your girlfriend you have to be sensitive and know when she needs to be held close and when she needs her space. Remember a relationship is like a team and each member has to do their part and work together."

Do you think Ugg would be receptive to this? Of course not. First of all he wouldn't have understood English and second he would have just clubbed the first guy in the head and dragged him to his cave. I base this on the theory that in artist's conceptions of the time cave men and women looked almost exactly alike and there would almost certainly be some confusion.

Where is all of this leading you ask? Hell if I know. But I do know a few things. I am just as qualified to give advice as any of these dating consultants. So I will share the knowledge I have learned over the years. You can trust me, I'm an expert.

Early on

- Striking up a conversation

Odds are you will want to get to know someone before starting a relationship with them. Usually a good way to do this is to have a conversation with them. If you met someone a a dance club you can disregard this. What you are saying if you are at a dance club is, "If I wanted to speak with you, I wouldn't have come to a place with such loud, gawd-awful music. Now come here so we can grope each other."

If you do find yourself in a more suitable environment you will need some things to discuss. Here are a few ideas.

Things to discuss- Common interests, Careers, Goals, Politics
Things not to discuss- Diseases, Exes, Birth Defects

-First Date

Provided you did not meet this person in a dance club, this person is still a virtual stranger and you haven't slept with them yet. The goal here is to get to know them while enjoying a pleasant and fun evening together.

Good date ideas- Parks, movies, parties, bars
Bad date ideas- Monster truck rallies, rumbles, your parole office

-Intimacy

Sooner or later one of you will make your move. Again, dance club...disregard. Timing is crucial here. There are definitely right and wrong places to "make out." Picking the wrong one can be the kiss of death for a relationship.

Good Places- On a romantic walk, under a moonlit sky, on a picnic blanket
Bad places- Church, at a parents house, funerals.

-Couplehood

So now you are a couple. You've been together for a while things are going reasonably well and you both feel like staying together. Remember, you're not out of the woods yet. All couples experience problems. The key is to recognize them and find solutions.

-Problems

Problem- Arguments
Good Solution- Talk through any problems and find common ground
Bad Solution- Choking or body slams

Problem- Falling into a rut/ Lack of excitement
Good solution- being creative and open to trying new things
Bad solution- Anything involving the cops

Problem- Trust/Infidelity
Good solution- Not jumping to conclusions, Talking about concerns, Forgiveness
Bad solution- Retribution sex, hit lists

Problem- Fear of commitment / Apprehension
Good solution- Reassurance, understanding,
Bad solution- fake pregnancy, forced imprisonment

Chances are you have experienced some or even all of these problems. The good news news is you worked them out like rational, caring adults. Who are we kidding? At some point you got sick of each other and broke up. Well there are right and wrong ways to do that too.

-Breaking up

Option 1-It's not them, it's you.

Everyone has heard this at some point. "No really, I think you are great. It's just me right now. You know, things are complicated. I think I just need some time." This is a a way for people to be polite. What people are trying to say here is that the would rather be buried alive than stay another minute with you. Don't take it personally. Not every relationship will succeed. The key here is to remember that even though you did your best, it wasn't nearly good enough.

Option 2- We should take a break.

This might seem like a reasonable and welcome option. Yes, and if you wish hard enough a unicorn will ride a rainbow to your front door with a cure for cancer. The underlying message here is, "I like you, I just don't want to be around you for a while. Provided something better doesn't come along maybe we'll get back together sometime in the distant future."

Option 3- I think we should see other people

Giving your "other" a chance to see what else is out there might ultimately strengthen your relationship if they are reassured that you are the right one, right? Wrong. It's like your boss saying, "I'll hire you, but I am going to keep interviewing other people. Don't get too comfortable, I'll most likely find someone better."

Option 4- It's just not working out.

Get some balls, or the female equivalent and say it. I'm sure most people want to avoid hurting someone's feelings, but in the long run doing it any other way makes you look like an ass and the other person feel even worse. Unless you are 15 and can be expected to be immature, man/woman up and do the right thing.

Understanding men and women

It is a misconception that people are hard to figure out. The vast majority will almost always select on the basis of attractiveness first. Write this in stone. Part of it is genetic. People select mates on finding the best available partner in a given group. When prompted, men will usually admit to this. Women, will never admit this to men but privately will fess up after they have drank enough. Look at this example.

Let's be honest, who are the folks getting dates here? I could probably be persuaded to sleep with either of the people on the left. I'm just sayin! Men and women both will give more respect, creedence, and forgiveness to people they are attracted to. How many times have you seen a guy or girl putting up with a boatload of shit from their attractive partner? You know why pretty girls and hot guys act so terribly? Because they can. It's true! From the time you are born people treat the cute ones better. Look, no matter who you are your mom will think you are hot stuff. Don't blame her, it's her job. If you were born with feathers and a tail your mom would still talk about how beautiful and precious you are. And why wouldn't she? After going through all of the bother to get you here, you think she is going to think you are not amazing? The point is, the rest of the world is less forgiving. I'm not saying beauty is the only thing we care about, but it is the first thing. It's a lot like buying a car. Your eye is drawn to a model you like, then you see if the features are ok. And like picking a car, you have to know your price range. When dating you will definitely find that you have your limits. Notice how couples are generally of similar attractiveness? Yeah, I did too.

I wouldn't want to leave the impression that men and women are exactly the same. That of course is silly. Studies have shown that women are more attracted to successful men who can provide and men still are pretty much stuck with the attractiveness thing. Researchers have observed who men and women select in dating situations and they found that overwhelmingly regardless of what traits they claim to like, men pick the most attractive and women will pick attractive and successful. Again, it's biology. In a way we are predestined to like what we like. Let's say you are Brad Pitt. If you actually are Brad Pitt, then you are a step ahead of the rest of us. You are married to Jennifer Anniston. From the outside perspective you are married to one of the most successful and desirable women on the planet. What do you do? You obviously pick an even more successful and desirable woman. So fair play to Brad. Let's face it. Neither of those women would sleep with me at gunpoint even though I have a sense of humor and am quite sensitive which are the two things women say they desire most. In their defense he's Brad Pitt and I look more like Anthony Michael Hall. Plus I can barely afford to buy any of the movies he gets paid 20 million for. So really it all works out. I'm here writing blogs while Brad and Angelina are giving birth to children so attractive they just stride from the womb on rays of sunshine and happiness. I'm not bitter, I'm just sayin.

So there you have it. That 's about the extent of my knowledge. I feel better, how about you? I hope you all have luck in dating and relationships. Remember it's hard, but in the end if you try hard enough and put in the time and really make it a priority, and are selfless, caring, and compassionate.....you still won't get Brad or Angelina. Take it from an expert.

George

2008-06-24T00:22:00.000-07:00

"Honesty may be the best policy, but it's important to remember that apparently, by elimination, dishonesty is the second-best policy."

When I was a child I had a few simple pleasures. The greatest of these was getting away with something I knew I should not be doing. There was always something daring, risky, and so very rewarding about trodding where you were not supposed to. What is forbidden always seems more exciting and worthwhile than what is accepted. Maybe it's the danger, the consequence, or maybe it's our own personal treasure from the tree of knowledge that we are so often denied that makes the frowned upon so tantalizing. For me, nothing could compare to comedy. Comedy that was either too bold, too raunchy, or too sophisticated for young ears to comprehend. I ate, drank, breathed, and most importantly, repeated it. If I believed in saints, George Carlin was my patron.

George died on Sunday. And like other heroes of mine, I never got a chance to meet him. I'm not sure what I would have said, if I would have said anything. I would have liked to thank him. Maybe the narcissist in me wishes I could have had a chance to make him laugh. Just once. Just one chance to show the old pro what the young guy can do. But that is indeed narcissism. That's fantasy in a world where reality is the rule. In reality we lost one of the truly great ones.

"I think people should be allowed to do anything they want. We haven't tried that for a while. Maybe this time it'll work."

One of the most endearing things about him was his unending fight against conformity. He was who he was. Without hesitation, regret or permission he did things his way. For better or worse he made his own decisions. Sometimes subtly, sometimes brazenly, but always his own. Without fail, he would speak his mind, always pointing a finger at those who most deserved to be pointed at.

I will never forget hearing the now famous "seven dirty words" routine for the first time. It is at the tail end of his "Class Clown" album. His whole act up to that point is good natured, sweet, almost quaint. He comes off as the lovable goofball, the kid in the back of the class always looking for a quick laugh. Suddenly he asks the audience if they know what the seven words you can't say on television are. Certainly he wouldn't say them on stage. After being arrested with Lenny Bruce on obscenity charges and knowing the standards of the time, he would have to play it safe. But he didn't play it safe.

"Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, mother-fucker, and tits."

Those seven words led him to a jail cell. For those of us who give free speech more than a passing thought, those words are maybe seven of the most important of modern history. They touched off a firestorm of legal battles, public debate and reconsideration of what we are allowed to say, and not say. Eventually he won, and all of us won as well. Maybe on of my other favorite George's, George Bernard Shaw, said it better than I ever could.

"The censorship method ... is that of handing the job over to some frail and erring mortal man, and making him omnipotent on the assumption that his official status will make him infallible and omniscient."

In the punishment for his words, he proves his point. The insanity of a society which imprison over the words someone chooses to speak. The sheer irony of a country that lauds freedom but so often fails to grant it.

He didn't stop there. He never stopped. He took every opportunity to challenge the powerful for their treatment of the powerless. Corporations, religions, bureaucrats, governments. All were fair game. He pulled no punches and asked for no apologies. If a door was closed he couldn't wait to kick it in. Like one of his contemporaries, Richard Pryor, he lived on the very edge of what he could get away with. Always sensing where the line was, and always pushing it an inch or two further.

During his early days he balanced himself and his act with large doses of commentary, near slapstick and one of his hallmarks, the language. He was equal parts jester and satirist. Freely criticizing what he saw as madness, wrapped in a suspended adolescence that seemed to bring him childlike joy. By the later years this joy was gone. Every year brought new subjects to be outraged about. As things got worse, so did he. After his wife died every bit of anger and outrage poured out to his audience. He never hid anything. His comedy became a bludgeon. Each word a strike against an increasingly unfair and dysfunctional society.

"I have as much authority as the Pope, I just don't have as many people who believe it."

Never lost to his audience was his disdain for anything that served to keep the little guy down. His cynicism and mistrust so fortified with examples, even his greatest detractors were forced to entertain his notions. He was able to achieve what every great comedian strives to do. He delivered his message in a way people had no choice but to accept. He once described the job of being a comedian as "hey, dig me." He found an outlet for all of the things he wanted to say, and a way to make sure people listened. In that way he elevated himself above the soapbox. Or rather, he raised his soapbox to a height where it couldn't be lost in the shuffle.

For everything he was, or indeed in many cases wasn't, we know some things about him as fact. He never shied away from a fight, he never accepted anything without question, and he was most certainly one of us. He was the voice inside our heads screaming for justice. Or at least the voice that should be there. He was a pioneer, a rebel, a legend and a true genius. For every performer who speaks their mind on a stage or screen he was the benchmark.

A true American original. We will never see one like him again. For that, we are poorer. For a short time, he was ours. Now, it's up to us to pick our own fights. To say we will miss him does not do the man justice. I was glad to know him, even though I would have liked the chance to make him laugh. If only once.

George Carlin 1937-2008

Rocking you like a hurricane (redeux)

2008-06-13T19:54:00.001-07:00

Ok so after the last post I will say, I have learned a few things.

1. I'm either an idiot or a genius depending on your point of view.

2. Don't ever disrespect the Beatles.

3. Even when you try to be thorough, you might miss things.

With respect to 3 I have to make an update. As sound as my criteria was (completely sound by the way) it was not entirely foolproof. The reason it was not foolproof is that it left me not with one, but three bands. That's right, three greatest bands of all time. Look, I never said this was easy. Without further ado let me provide some more fuel to the fire.

1 Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Yeah, CCR pretty much ruled. If you don't like them, tough. They were a great rock band and Fogerty even was good after they broke up. Side note. John got sued by his own record label for plagiarizing his own song. Apparently he told them to fuck off afterwards. How rock and roll is that?

Also 1 The Who

How I failed to include these fellas in the first go-round is beyond me. Even if you hate the Who, you have to love them. Loud, arrogant, trend setting maniacs. People left some of their early concerts with their ears bleeding. That's hard core no matter how you look at it. I'll forgive Roger Daltry's tight pants due to the sheer magnitude of their music. "We won't get fooled again?" Damn right we won't!

So there you have it. The list is now complete. Any complaints feel free to direct them this way. But I'm pretty sure the list is now infallible.

Here I am, Rocking you like a hurricane

2008-05-31T23:44:00.001-07:00

I don't claim to be an expert on everything. Really, I don't. I think I have a pretty good knowledge base, but I definitely subscribe to the jack of all trades school of thought. I would rather know a little about a lot, than a lot about a little if you follow me. That being said, there are subjects I feel qualified to offer an expert opinion on. British comedy? Check. Saturday morning cartoons from the 70's and 80's? Check. Strategies to win at Risk? Check. How to not sustain romantic relationships? Check.You know what else? Music. Specifically rock music. I know what most of you are saying.

"Jay, everyone thinks they know music. Everyone has their own "expert" opinion. Aren't rock music experts just lonely dorks who have nothing better to do than rehash the past with over-analysis and far reaching superlative nonsense?"

Well maybe so, but that isn't going to stop me from stomping your yard musically speaking. I am going beyond simple opinion into the area of scientific fact. What I am going to do is methodically break down, with iron clad criteria, who exactly is the greatest rock band in history. This isn't some fanboy nonsense. I can honestly say that right now I have no idea who is the winner. None! Like any good scientist I have the a set of rules to follow that will lead me to a conclusion. I am throwing out bias and preconception here. What you are going to get is the definitive, once and for all, be all end all answer to the ultimate musical question. You may not like the answer. Hell, you may not like the question. But science isn't always pleasant. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it makes you rethink what you know. And sometimes it can change your whole world. So don't shoot the messenger. If you find yourself at odds with what is presented here, we will just have to agree that you are wrong. I'm not going to argue with science.So with out further ado, we'll begin. For those about to rock.....I salute you.

Criterion #1 Significant fan base.

This is an easy place to start. Any claim to greatness must come with a certain amount of support. Of course there will always be some uber fan who claims their band is number one. Certainly I have my pet bands, but I wouldn't be arrogant enough to thrust my opinion onto the rest of the world. For purposes of this list let's say that any "great" band must have hit the platinum mark at least once. Sp right off the bat we lose...

The Ramones ("Punk" never quite made it)
Suicidal Tendencies (See above)
Motorhead (Lemmy might be god, but his sales don't show it)

Criterion #2 Longevity/ Timelessness

You have to be able to point to a body of work that lasted beyond a few years to really be considered viable here. Most fads come and go quickly and the bands that lead them come and go as well. If the relevancy of a band is determined by the nature of what is popular for a few seasons then no matter how good the band was, they don't get to be the greatest ever. That lets us cut....

Most of the 90's really. This would include

Days of the New (one hit alternative wonder)
Candlebox (two hit alternative wonder)
Blind Melon (dead lead singer alternative wonder)
Faith No More (two many side projects)

Also the 70's takes a hit here
Boston (dated)
Styx (mr. roboto killed their fan base)
E.L.O (their beards were off putting)

And of course the 80's
Duran Duran (really I love Duran Duran. No, seriously, I do)
The Cars (Man I hated the song "drive")

Criterion #3 Fitting the Rock Genre

While we are on the subject. Rock music means "rock music." There are a lot of great bands out there who have rock influence, or start out as rock bands and transform into something else. It doesn't make them less as musicians or artists, but it does take away from the "rock" designation. When a band can be connected to a certain trend, time, place or movement, the are too easily defined as something other that rock music. If you have to use a modifier to explain the band then they lose. Pop rock, industrial rock, glam rock, ska, nu-metal...Sorry guys, you all lose. Therefore we cross off....

The Police (ska rock)
Pink Floyd (art rock)
Radiohead (electronic rock)
Rush (prog rock)
The Flaming Lips (not sure rock)

Criterion #4 Influence/ Originality

Any good band spawns admirerers, imitators and copycats. In some cases these bands surpass their inspiration in some cases not. The key here is noticing a band who borrows enough from a predecessor to evoke too many comparisons. Whatever accomplishments a band had, if they are too reminiscent of an old band, they can't be considered the best. So this lets us eliminate.....

Oasis (just like the beatles)
Queensryche (just like Pink Floyd)

Criterion #5 Too much too soon/ Big Hit syndrome

Often bands come seemingly from nowhere and dominate the scene for a while. That leads to one thing...Backlash. It's not their fault usually. Every band wants to have their stuff heard by as many people as possible. The shame of it all is that their is something good usually about these sorts of groups. Their usually is some level of talent or creativity that allows them to grab a hold of audiences for a while. The problem is that they become victims of their own success. As soon as they get so popular you hear them everywhere, and it just isn't novel anymore. It's usually the big hit that does it. It's that one song you can't escape that everyone (including your mom) seems to be singing. I'll list the big song for each of these bands....

Spin Doctors- Two Princes
Blues Traveler- Runaround
Dave Matthews- Satellite
Hootie and the Blowfish-Hold my Hand

Try getting those out of your head (again)

Criterion #6 Not too pretty

Real rock music is about how the music sounds, not how the band looks. Sure, having some cute band members helps to sell posters and fill the stadium, but when it comes down to it it's the music that matters. When the band members are as much sex symbols as musicians you got trouble. Bottom line, if people show up because the band is hot as often as they show up for the songs...They drop a notch. And here begins the controversy....

Motley Crue (Makeup)
Poison ( A lot of makeup)
Def Leppard (No makeup but pretty anyway)
Heart (Chicks without makeup)
and.....Led Zeppelin. Go ahead and hate me, but you know it's true. These were the original pretty boys of the hard rock scene. Don't believe me, look at this.

As good as they were there was way, way, way too much erotic nonsense going on here. Gonna give you every inch of my love? Really Rob, are ya?

Criterion #7 Band not Artist

The music takes a band to make. It takes a group of people coming together to make it work. There are some great artists out there. Really brilliant amazing people. And they exclude themselves from this list. Sorry, that's just the way it goes. If a person is a solo act with a different band behind them from time to time.... Gone. If the the band is so overshadowed by one person that most people can't name anyone else on the stage....gone. If the band is frequently introduced as "Main person's name" and the "whoever's"....gone....That gets rid of

Bruce Springsteen (And the E street who?)
Eric Clapton (Eric Clapton and Cream, and the Yardbirds, and Blind Faith, etc)
Dave Matthews (quick, name anyone else in the band)
David Bowie (Really, was anyone else ever needed?)
Jimmy Hendrix (I know, you Noel Redding fans are pissed. Sue me.)
Ozzy (and a cast of thousands)
Megadeth (19 members and counting)

Criterion #8 Death/ Loss of a main member.

When tragedy strikes bands either do one of two things. They fold, or they carry on. Folding is usually the best option. While we don't want to see a band dominated by one member, it's even worse to see a band continue as if nothing has changed. Isn't it weird to see a band sing a song that was written or played by a absent member. It's just creepy. Particularly devastating is if the member was the lead singer or guitarist. Sure you can replace a keyboardist or drummer, but the main two...not happening. For every band that pulls it off AC/DC (Bon Scott-Brian Johnson) you have several that don't Van Halen (David Lee roth-Gary Sherrone. Haggar was pretty good) We can safely get rid of.....

The Doors (Jim died and so did the band)
Soundgarden (Chris Cornell left for Audioslave thereby destroying two bands)
Queen (Like the Doors, only with Freddy Mercury)
Nirvana (Kurt left us in Courtney's hands and you saw how that went)
Van Halen (Gary Sherrone, really?)
Black Sabbath (Ozzy replaced by Ronnie James Dio)
Lynnard Skynnard (Half of the band died in a plane crash. And then we got the singer from 38 special)
AC/DC (Man it's hard to eliminate these lovable idiots)

Criterion #9 Overstaying your Welcome

By far the worst element of Rock music is the band that doesn't know when to quit. I can't blame them for not wanting to give up, but you have to know your limits. People only have so many good ideas in them. Something about the fire inside that drives people to be great in the first place eventually lets us down. Inevitably we start comparing the new version to the old version, and the old version is always fresher, stronger and more relevant. Bands do one of five things late in their careers that get them kicked off.

1. Replace most of the original members
Kiss (every album has a new guitarist and drummer)

2. Do solo projects or take new directions that diminish the old stuff
The Kinks (come dancing with the Kinks?)
Metallica (Anything after the Black Album just doesn't cut it)

3. Let their causes overshadow their music
U2 (from Sunday Bloody Sunday to Discotheque Wow. )
Rage Against the Machine (Zach is off freeing children from slave labor)

4. Piss off their audience
Guns and Roses (Chinese Democracy my ass)
Jefferson Airplane (or Jefferson Starship, or starship. Whatever. We built this city? Blech)

5. Try to pretend they still got it
Aerosmith (Cheesy rock ballads)
The Rolling Stones (see below)

Sorry Stones fans. I love 'em too but the hourglass ran out a long time ago. When you are 60 you are not rock stars anymore. Nothing is worse than an old man prancing around like he's 20. Does anything the stones have done in the last 20 years even come close to "paint it black" or "sympathy for the devil?" No. Sorry, but no.

Criterion #10 Attitude
Rock music is not nice, it is not pretty, it is not tame, and it is no place for nice guys. When you think of rock musicians, what do you think of? Loud abrasive awful people. Hotel room trashing, hard partying, bad mannering (not really a word) nonsense. In short, the way you would like to act if you weren't an intelligent, forward thinking productive member of society. Rock musicians are not people who you want over for dinner. They aren't necessarily people you want in your town. The attitude is what makes the music. It's the energy that grabs you, gets you excited and gets the blood pumping. What keeps some bands from being the best is the perception of being nice guys, or having a soft side. Sometimes this perception is at odds with reality, sometimes it is not. Either way, you want to be the best? Act like it. With a heavy heart I am eliminating.....

The Beach Boys (nice and cuddly)
Pearl Jam (Eddie and the boys are trying to save the world)
and.....I can't believe I am doing this........oof....This is hard.......

The Beatles.

I don't want to do this. I love the Beatles. I always have. Taking them out of the running seems foreign to every instinct I have. I said at the start this might be painful. It is. But I can't argue with science. I only can interpret the data.

So it's been a long road. I'm sure there are some hard feelings. I'm sure some dreams are shattered, some feelings hurt. But now that the dust has settled, there can be only one. So I am pleased to give you the greatest rock band of all time..

(Drum roll)

Twisted Sister

Let's break it down. They had a huge fan base. The music is as pertinent as it ever was. They fit the genre. The didn't explode on to the scene. The are not pretty guys. The band stayed mostly intact. The got out before they screwed it all up. And they definitely had the attitude. So scientifically they win. Who would have thought? I also have to give them credit. When brought before congress to testify before Al "rock legend" Gore, Dee Snider vehemently opposed any sort of censorship on music. He also went on to inform the assembled distinguished panel that the naem of the official fanclub for his band was the S.M.F.F.O T.S. That stands for the Sick, mother fucking friends of Twisted Sister. Still to this day I believe that Dee is the only person (excluding Dick Cheney) to utter those words in that setting. Solid. So to mark the occasion here is a bit of video goodness. Enjoy.

Here's another clue for you all...The Walrus was Paul

2008-05-25T20:03:00.000-07:00

So here I am sitting at home minding other people's business when this headline pops up.

"McCartney's hybrid gets 4 miles a gallon."

A-ha this is the sort of thing that grabs me. As I suspected it really was just a silly, possibly snarky, analysis of Sir Paul's new luxury vehicle and the energy required to get it to him. O.k, doing some real analysis led me to two conclusions.

1. Some people like to be smart assy
2. Either Paul McCartney or Lexxus has missed the boat on being "green."

I'm not going to get into the article in any depth. Basically, when you factor in the gas taken to get his new Lexxus to his home, it was, in scientific terms, an ass load. I dismissed the article as some fairly harmless smug celebrity bashing, but something caught my eye. His new luxury, V-8, Lexxus gets a whopping 19 miles to the gallon. 19. No really, 19. So, when compared to even the shittiest non hybrid cars coming out these days, Paul is stopping for gas more often then the rest of us.

I have cut Paul some slack over the years. His status as the co-driving force of arguably (not really an argument) the greatest band in the history of music has carried some water with me. Sure his solo career lately has been a little lack luster. Sure he has seemed to betray his own principles in some of his business dealings. Sure he married a crazy one legged woman. But hey, he is Paul McCartney. That has to count for something.

I guess what gets my goat here is that he seems to be making a statement fot the environment. The problem is, it's a shitty statement. His car gets less mpg than my crappy old Hyundai. True, I didn't set the world on fire with songs like "Hey Jude," or "Helter Skelter," but I can drive to a show far more cheaply than he can. Considering that our gas prices here, while clearly ridiculous, are still much less than in England, I got him beat both ways. From what I gather, the car was a gift to him from Lexxus. So maybe the real culprit here is them. The overall message seems to be, "Paul is a fancy man who has spoken about the environment in the past., so he will get an ultra luxury vehicle that gets shitty mileage, albeit less shitty than if he got the standard version." It's kind of like recycling half of your plastic bags and then saying, "but you should see how wasteful I used to be." Maybe I am jumping to conclusions.

This whole thing has got me thinking about my environmental impact. My "carbon footprint" if you will. Let's see how I am doing.

1. First things first.

No companies have sent me cars lately. Or ever for that matter. So as far as emissions from various shipping methods go, I am in the clear. My mail is sent along with other people's, any goods I buy are shipped in mass and I am not jet setting around the world.

My score.. Negligible

2. Paper vs. Plastic?

Poly Propylene thanks. Yes I am one of those forward thinking, slightly effeminant looking guys toting around a reusable shopping bag. I hate to say it, but it does make me look a little girly. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Girls tend to be smarter on a whole lot of this stuff. But I notice the other men looking at me. In their minds they are saying, "hey nice handbag little lady. can you get that to the car yourself, or do you need a man to help?" Then they drive off in their suv's, pound their chests and sniff each other's butts. At least that's how I imagine it. I heard once that there is a Texas sized chunk of trash in the Pacific Ocean. Just the plastic bag part is as big as Idaho or something. I believe it. I think most of it came from under my sink. I thought I was as normal as anyone else but I opened the door under my sink one time and a wad a plastic Walmart bags came billowing out. It was like that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when the boulder rolls after Indy, sealing the entrance to the cave and blocking if off for all of eternity. Just like that actually. I wasn't sure how I was going to get back in and several angry natives starting shooting poison darts at me. But now that's all over. I carry my man purse to the store and load 'em up. Ironically the store cashiers are not on board yet. I usually have this sort of conversation.

Paper or plastic.
Here ya go (handing over bags)
Um.....I don't have a price on these.
No, I'm not buying them, they are mine.
But there is no upc. This don't come up in the system.
No, don't scan them, put my things in them.
So you brought these in with you?
Yes.
So the rest of this stuff, paper or plastic?

Or something like that. I'm still winning in principle.

My score. 3 or 4

3. Gas

I have recently been taking the bus to work. I think it's a hybrid bus. Just kidding. But no matter how awful and inefficient the bus I ride is, it is better than dozens of people getting into their own cars. And judging from the people I see on the bus, I assume the cars they drive would be complete shit. Plus I get a fringe benefit from riding the bus. The people watching is fantastic. I am a creative guy, but I couldn't have come up with this actual conversation I heard last week.

Man I hope this umm...weather lets up. I don't like the rain. I like it 80 and sunny.
Yeah?
Hey, ummmm....you need any ummmmm......AA batteries for anything?
Well, maybe....
Cause I have like um.....about.....122 of them.
Why do you have so many batt.....
Dollar General has 'em in 24 packs for like ummmm.....4 dollars
I see....
You can never have too many....um.....AA batteries......Or too few.
I see

That's a transcript people. It's even better when you here the guys voice. And that is only one of many complete lunatics wandering the public transport system.

My score -1 or something

4. Recycling

Ok. Honestly I mean well. I take my milk jugs and plastic bottles back. It's just that, there used to be a tangible benefit. I'm not saying it's not important, it's just that recycling used to have a benefit apart from the environment. That benefit was money. Deposits for cans and bottles was something I grew up with. When you got done you took them to the store and they gave you a nickel for every can and a dime for every bottle. So in practical terms, with a little leg work you could make some pretty decent scratch. Even in college where the deposit was only 5 cents a bottle you made out well. Here's a case study from back when I was in school..

My roommates and I used to drink old style (the beer of Wrigley Field!)

Now the math is pretty simple. Follow these basic equations.
1 case = 24 bottles.
24 x .05 = 1.20
1.20 x 7 = 8.40
1 new case of Old Style = 7.69
7.69 x 1.07 (for tax) = 8.22
8.40 > 8.22

So when you take back 7 cases of bottles your 8th case was free. That's math you can really use! With that sort of incentive, who wouldn't return empties to a recycling center? Later in life I found the convenience and financial rewards were constantly decreasing. I spent some time in St. Louis (where they actively dislike Wrigley Field) and not only did they not give you any money when you recycled, they also didn't even want your empties. We had to drive (seriously) 10 to 15 miles to a recycling center. And initially we weren't even sure where it was. When we would ask people, the directions were something like,

"well, go down 21 and get off on the access road, then hang a left by where the tie rod factory used to be, and when you think you gone too far go another mile then ask Clem who is usually out on his tractor this time o' day, and he'll direct you to a dirt road that goes through the National Guard firing range and when you see the sign that says beware of the leopard you are only a little ways off."

That of course was several years back. I'm sure by now they have gotten rid of the leopards.

My score 8.22 a case

So if we add up all my stats and compare them to the average consumer (or Paul McCartney) I think I am way ahead. At least I feel way ahead. At least I am doing something about the problem. Well at least I am aware that there is a problem. So in relation to most of our politicians I am a regular genius here.

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota (Part 2)

2008-05-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

Let's pick up where we left off. I had just consumed about 3,700 calories and we began to make our way outside. Thoughtfully I squinted at the sun and offered to drive. Yes, in my one eyed state I thought getting behind the wheel was in order. Really when you think about it I was the most likely candidate. Sure I had no depth perception. Sure I was groggy and overfed. Sure I hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. But I had traveled this road before which made me Lewis to Elizabeth's Clark. I'm not sure why I thought it would take prior knowledge to navigate the straight line between Ames and Minneapolis but hey, you never can be too careful.

If I can sum up north central and northern Iowa in a single word, it would be turbine. Since the last time I was there they have installed hundreds of the things. If you are in a less energy savvy state and have not seen these in action this is pretty much what they are.

I fantasized for a second about the progressive nature if this development. Surely a lower dependence on using fossil fuels and such for electricity would mean a surplus of oil and gas right? Economically speaking a surplus means that prices would fall. So this would mean gas prices would be lower in Iowa. Right? No, of course I'm being silly. We pulled into a gas station and gas was 8 million dollars a gallon. Well maybe not 8 million, but you know what I mean. Everything makes gas go up. Low demand....higher prices. High demand.....higher prices. Too much gas, too little gas....higher prices. Rumors that Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer are doing well in their celebrity tabloid relationship...much higher prices. Sorry folks, I think the higher prices are here to stay. Unless of course we start taking hostages from the oil companies. Not that I am suggesting anyone should do so. I am saying this because I do not want to be investigated by the FBI. So Ix-nay on the ostage-hay if you know what I mean.

All in all, Iowa is nice to drive through. By nice I mean uneventful. Most of the time you just have scenery to look at. Tree, rock, cow, tree, you get the idea. I know there are pockets of big stuff around the Des Moines/ Ames area. And I know the eastern part of the state can be a crowded sprawling mess. But once their football team starts beating mine with regularity again they can tell me how things should look. (suck on it hawkeyes. 7 of the last 10!)

But one thing I should point out to you all has to do with the convenience stores. When I left Missouri I had a few goals for the trip in mind. Near the top of the list was to find something I have thought off and on about for a decade now. I'll get to that in a minute. Convenience stores in the midwest are a bit silly. You may have a 7-11 or a Break Time or a Quick Trip where you are. You really do not know a thing about convenience stores until you run across a few of these beauties.

The name says it all. Step 1, git your stuff. Step 2, go. Simple and to the point.

Well then. I'm not sure what they are suggesting, but it sounds risque. We always called them the ol' spoo and shoo or ejaculate and evacuate. I'm sure you can come up with a few of your own. Nothing however will prepare you for the unbridled carnality of the next one.

Yep. That happy little fella might as well be naked on the sign. Do names get any smuttier? I don't think so. But if you know of a filthier convenience store drop me a line. I always am up for an adventure.

This is what I came for. I wanted desperately to find the Pump and Munch. Call me juvenile, call me crude. Whatever. I wanted a t-shirt, and I wanted one badly.

After a while of driving and snickering we finally hit.

Yes Minnesota. The land that the Norse settled so long ago. I have had the opportunity to visit in all four of the seasons. Notice when I say 4 seasons I mean the 4 that most of us are accustomed too. Minnesota has two.

1.Decent enough, (May-September)
2.Holy shit balls cold (October- April)

If you don't believe me, ask someone who lives there. Going up there unprepared is just asking to freeze and be eaten by wolves. Their spring/summer is ok. It's mild and most of the mosquitoes are only as big as robins. But the fall/winter? Egads! When it cracks 35 the people wear shorts. When a state has ice hockey as it's official sport you have to wonder. Ice hockey. Frozen water that you play on. Red flag.

As uneventful as the trip to Minnesota was, it led us to expect smooth sailing in Minneapolis. Were two people ever so naive? Most of the highways and strrets seemed to make sense. They were logically made of concrete and had lines painted on them. That's as far as the sense went. Often I saw things that seemed to have more than one direction on them. Call me old fashioned but a road goes either North/South or East/West. Roads can't go more than two directions at the same time. Strangely enough I saw 75 West/South. At least I think that's what I saw. If I could sum up the entire trip in one sentence it would be, "but we need to be on that road." To give you some perspective it took us about 20 minutes to get to the concert we were going to. It was three miles away almost exclusively by highway. It took us over an hour to get back. The problem was that Minneapolis has a fascination with one ways. Nearly every street is one. The problem when you have all one ways is that navigation is a pain in the dong. If you come over on one street, when you leave you must take a different one. That means you pass up the street you want and hope the following runs parralel to it. Of course if you miss a turn you have to try to circle around by going on about 9 other streets. It's a lot like chutes and ladders. You go ahead one space but then you hit a ladder and go up five. Then you go two over and hit a chute that goes down three. When you feel you are making progress towards where you need to be all of a sudden you hit the big chute that takes you down thirty spaces and you feel like the last hour of your life was a miserable waste of time.

I give credit to Elizabeth at this point. We were both tired, hungry and growing increasingly cranky. During one stretch I'm pretty sure I circled the same block one hundred and fifty times. To make matters even worse I started going from parking lot to parking lot.

"Is this our hotel?"
"This is a restaurant."
"Well how about this?"
"Dry cleaners"
"What about this one?"
"If you turn back onto the highway again, I promise I will kill you."
"Fair enough."

But eventually we found it. In the interim our friends who had the foresight to own a GPS, had found the hotel, waited, constructed the Titanic out of matchsticks, got bored and left. Undeterred we felt the best solution was to start drinking. Since there was no way I was going to drive anywhere (hey I'll be back in a minute, um..is it still Wednesday?) So, I decided to walk. Walking in a strange city is always an adventure. I considered the event a quest. A quest for booze. Unfortunately everything was closed. I walked a few blocks and realized that all the lights were going out. Then I spotted a Super America. Super America is a convenience store. Actually Almost Adequate America would be a much better name. In Missouri you can get booze anywhere. Convenience stores, liquor stores, church etc. In Minnesota supposedly the people are famous for their drinking. I saw no evidence of that. 11:30 on a Wednesday night and I might have well have been in Salt Lake City. Fortunately I met some fine gentlemen outside who seemed eager to get to know me. This is not an actual photo, but it is pretty close.

Our conversation went like this.

"Heyyyyyy holmes."
"Hi guys"
"why chu come over here may"
"Um...got to get to the hotel. Out of town."
"Heyyyyy where ju goin'"
"Sorry can't talk I have to start running now."
"Yo cabron, ju come back!"
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeep!"

Or something like that. My whole journey was maybe a mile. But it seemed more like 30 or 40 if you factor in how long it felt like. Of course when I got back to the hotel everything went smoothly. Just kidding. My key to activate the guest levels of the hotel did not work. I stood in the elevator for three minutes or so pushing buttons, inserting keys and hoping for the best. The doors were shut and nothing I seemed to do made them open. Just when I was about to panic the elevator sprang into action taking me two floors above where the room was. No bother, I thought. I'll just go down the stairs and things will be great. But most of the stairs were locked so I wandered the hallway for a while. I was just about to try the elevator again when I spotted one more door. Luckily it had stairs. I was afraid like the highways these stairs might not go up/down but up/left or something. I was desperate though. It was getting pretty grim and the thought of sleeping in the stairwell was a little too much to fathom. I finally made it to my floor and back to my room. I tried to relay the story to Elizabeth who was finding it hard to digest.

"You went where? You got chased by who? And you are saying you are not mentally handicapped?"

That might not be verbatim, but it was the gist.

So far I neglected to point out that we did have some fun this day. We went to see Dolly in concert. If you have never seen an actual legend in concert before I highly recommend doing so. Even if you do not like the music at all you can at least appreciate the historical value. The show was great. If you had to sum up Dolly in a word it would be...delightful. At 62 she is cute as a bug and as spunky as ever. I call her a legend for good reason. She has been at it for decades now and she somehow manages to keep it fresh. A lot of bands/artists keep doing the same songs and the same shows and it seems so sterile. I have seen a few shows in my day. I remember seeing Kiss many years ago. I got the feeling that they had done the same routine a million times and it was flat out boring. "You gotta lose your mind in Detroit Rock City!" Yeah, do I? Really guys, you hear Beth calling? It's been 25 years, you still can't find the sound?
But Dolly was super fun. In my one contact condition I wasn't able to make everything out. The lights were playing havoc with my vision so my experience was different then everyone else's. This is what everyone else saw.

This is what I saw.

So for me it was ghost Dolly. She was still cute though.

I know what you are saying. "Hey Jay I can't believe you went all the way to Minnesota and you haven't mentioned the Mall of America. What gives?"

Just hang on a second. I'm getting to it. The morning after Dolly. 10:00 A.D if you will, we hit the trail towards one of the single greatest monuments to capitalism there is. A quick lap or two around Minneapolis via 41 North/East and 25 Southwest/Up and we were there. If you have never been, I'm not sure you even qualify as an American anymore. Step one was meeting our friends at IKEA.

If the Scandinavians have one thing that they have given to world culture, the insanely large store full of fantastic home furnishings is it. I'm sure all of us have been to a Wal-Mart Superstore. They clock in at an impressive 200,000 square feet on average. The IKEA we went to was 336,000 square feet. So in architectural terms is defined as really, really, really big. It's as if the Scandinavians looked at Wal-Mart and thought, "ooh, how cozy, maybe we could do this but make it 60% larger." But we saw it . All of it. One of the first things we saw were complete living room sets. Not just all of the pieces, but complete living rooms. We walked from living room to living room. Then from kitchen to kitchen. Bathroom to bathroom. Then bedroom to bedroom. It's a bit weird thinking that someone would put together the exact pattern from the store. I'm sure that there are thousands of people who recreated the whole thing down to the letter in their home. I'm sure when their friends come over the catch the recognition on their faces just before they announce. "Yeah, we went Leksvik for the rustic look. I noticed you all did Hopen. You liking the clean cut design?" Yes, I read the signs while I was there.

Like I said we saw the whole store. We followed a path around the place taking in everything we could. What made our journey even more enjoyable was the asian family right behind us. There was nothing wrong with them except if you take in to account that they had dressed their child in squeaky shoes. Imagine a loud dog toy attached to each foot of a child. Now imagine this child taking a few thousand steps right behind you. Every time we stopped to look at something we heard the ominous sounds from behind us. "Hey, this is kind of...... SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK! This might go nice with.....SQUEAK!!!! SQUEAK!!!!" At one point I thought I might test the functionality of the Ektorp series by stuffing the little girl in to a clothes hamper.

But for sheer size and audacity IKEA looks like child's play next to the mall. IF you have size or weight issues go there, now! When you walk in, you are absolutely dwarfed by the size.Big doesn't do it justice. It's big, enormous, large, um....Bargnourmous. Yes, if anything it is bargnourmous. I'm sure the mall where you are is nice. It's got a food court and lots of stores and...HOLY SHIT, there are TWO roller coasters in here! And a log ride! What is that a climbing wall? Yippee! Sorry, I got carried away. You know what really impressed me? The bathrooms. You know that Dyson fella? The guy who tinkers with things and makes them work properly? Well he makes hand dryers as well.

After I washed my hands I ran them through this futuristic litte device. And then I did it again. It's fantastic! If IKEA would have had these I would have bought one without question. Elizabeth also had the pleasure of using one of these. We talked for several minutes about them, and I think we are both sold.

"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Drying my hands."
"Me too!"
"Come over. Let's have a hand drying party!"
"Hooray!"

But the mall isn't all about hand dryers. We made a plan to see all 4.2 million square feet and that meant our first stop was.....Lego World.

Remember the things you made with leggos when you were a kid? Well they were all crap. Lego World makes your creations look insignificant and amateurish. I mean take a look at this.

That's right a 20 foot lego Brachiosaurus. Show me a better example of Leggoneering, I challenge you.

After Lego World we walked around the mall. And walked, and walked, and walked. I don't know about you but I have always thought that if we could put everything you might possibly need under one roof we could save some serious time. With the stores that were present at the mall we could have, Woke up, bathed, put on new clothing, watched a movie, checked our email, purchased insurance, got an eye exam, ate lunch, worked out, got married, planned a honeymoon at the casino, rode some roller coasters, drank some booze, got a massage, ate dinner, planned for retirement and made plans for our funerals. Not bad eh?

All good things must come to an end, and eventually we had to leave. Not that the mall was closing, but we were ready to collapse. We hit the car and after taking a few more strangely named roads we were back at the hotel. By this point the proper thing to do was drink. I mean really. The overload and sheer grandiose nature of the trip required something to take the edge off. So we drank. And annoyed the people next door, and the passing security guy, and possibly the people in the adjoining hotels.

The next morning it was time to go. With a heavy heart we packed up and hit the road. We waved goodbye to Minnesota. For a brief time it was a home away from home. Sure we could go to shows and shop and be accosted by gang members back home, but it wouldn't be quite the same. Minnesota was a dream world. A world in which predominately pasty white people were plentiful. A world so foreign to our own. A world where the temperature is cooler, the people warmer, and the parking will cost you about $30 a day.

And that my friends is where this story ends. I could tell you about the ride back but there is really no point. Aside from the combination Amoco/Country Kitchen in Webster City there really is nothing to tell. It was a long journey, but a great Journey. We followed in the steps of Magellan, Thor Heyerdahl and Admiral Byrd. Brave souls who faced danger, uncertainty and adversity. Explorers whose lust for adventure led them to places unknown. We even got close to my hometown. But that is an adventure for another day.

Thanks Elizabeth it really was fun. Next time, Dollywood.

Jay

Looking California and Feeling Minnesota (part 1)

2008-05-14T23:28:00.001-07:00

Hi everyone! Sorry for the immense break between the last entry and this one. I know, I know, I am shirking my responsibilities here. But a man has to sleep sometimes. But I am back and I have a tale to tell. A tale of a few brave travelers setting off to find adventure, excitement and a variety of oddly named convenience stores. A journey to a far away and foreign land. A place the natives call Minneapolis.

The journey consisted of primarily two parts. The initial trip from Columbia to Minneapolis (approximate time 7 hours) And the actual driving around Minneapolis looking for things (approximate time a million skillion years) Let's start with the first part.

There is nothing difficult about getting from Columbia Missouri to Minneapolis Minnesota. You can probably take any highway going north and eventually show up there. According to mapquest (motto: yeah, we're almost accurate!) The trip was a simple matter of getting to Des Moines and then continuing straight north. There are two main ways of doing this. The first involves driving west to Kansas City and then North through Des Moines until you reach Minnesota. This is the the easiest way. It involves exactly two highways which are of the interstate variety.

*Historical note. In 1956 Eisenhower finally pushed through the Federal Aid Highway Act. This allowed for our modern highway system. Basically he was pissed that driving across any length of America took forever and required you to stop in any podunk town that was in the way. In his mind the interstate system would provide a quick an easy exodus from major cities when the Russians attacked. (I'm not making this up). Now if Ike could have imagined the gridlock in D.C. today he might have scrapped the idea all together. But his lack of foresight led to the eventual interconnected nature of modern travel. Before that a trip from Missouri to Minnesota would have involved regular highways rural roads and possibly the Mississippi river. Ok enough digression.

The other route involved taking a bunch of little roads that zig-zag through Missouri and the fist half of Iowa. In the spirit of Louis and Clark the second route was chosen. I mean honestly what sad sack just wants to see interstate for 7 hours? Part of the adventure is seeing little towns where real Americans live. Towns with signs that read "Welcome to Wartsville! Home of the Acme catheter factory."

Aside from the culture it also seemed to make sense mathematically. If you look at a map like the one below.

Notice the handy labels I have included. If you remember your high school algebra it's really simple. A squared plus B squared equals C squared which means if we carry the one, and er....calculate the um....factoring for pi...ok I don't remember what it means. But we took the Hypotenuse which seemed like the best idea.

The trip through Missouri was relatively uneventful. Instead of Missouri Interstate stuff (i.e. Adult Superstore billboards- Live girls! CDL welcome!) we saw some good ol' Americana. When you stay away from small towns you forget what real America is like. Then of course when you drive through real America you remember why you stopped driving through. I'm not being elitist here. I come from small town America. (Fort Dodge, Iowa. motto: Wait'll you see our prison!)
I know what it's all about. But after the hundredth mom and pop you see you get the idea. Yes, we know you have country lawn ornaments. Ooh Amish candy, this is our lucky day!

All in all, the time you save by driving fewer miles is eaten up by having to stop at stop lights every 50 miles or so and watching the rust colored pickup in front of you with the Osama Yo' momma bumper sticker. But like I said Missouri was ok. We really only took one or two roads. Highway 63 (motto: We'll pave it when we're good and ready) and a couple of smaller ones. But when you go north from Missouri inevitably you hit......

That's right people. Land of my youth. Heartland of America. A place where the corn flows like wine. Now the story starts to heat up. Once you hit Iowa you take about a million highways. My conversation with Elizabeth while we were driving went something like this.

"Yeah 163 to 202. Then through Middleville on to 2 which leads to 5. 5 takes us through Swamptown where we connect with 14 which takes us past the rendering plant. Then we connect with 30 which goes by the denture factory and then..........."

So you get the idea. One thing I will say about Iowa is that they take take thier road work seriously. When I say seriously, I mean slowly and all at once. Every road we went on had a crew working. Working of course in the not literal sense. Pretty much two guys each with a combination slow/stop sign. Several times we sat for brief stretches while the line of cars behind us stretched all the back to the tractor museum. But we got a chance to bask in the scenery and discuss how the sign guys name had to be either Clem or Ernie. My bet was on Ernie.

Now is the time I should tell you about my first mistake. Knowing that I was going to be using my eyes for various things on the trip, (seeing things mostly) I had put into place a foolproof plan. When I got up, I would put in my contacts and pack an extra pair just in case. For those of you who like foreshadowing take the following multiple choice test.

a. Jay brought extra contacts
b. Jay forgot extra contacts
c. Jay forgot extra contacts and realized 35 minutes into the trip that his left contact had a big rip in it.

Did you guess c? Good! Give yourself 10 bonus points! So keep in mind when I say things like bask in the scenery, what I mean is, squint at things. It's not so bad. Your eyes adjust and eventually you don't even miss the depth perception. But I really didn't need to use my eyes to their fullest until we hit Ames.

Ames was a place where I spent a few years drinking and occasionally attending classes. I have fond memories of the town. I remember watching concerts from the roof of our house. I remember late nights talking with friends. I remember knocking over a lady cop during Viesha. (long story) So I felt it was a fine place to stop, reminisce and most importantly eat. We stopped on Duff Avenue on the basis that it was the closest silly named street we could find. Elizabeth is a vegetarian so we looked for a restaurant without the words "steak" burger" or "drive thru" on the sign. We settled at Applebee's (motto: not great but familiar) and had some lunch. Elizabeth had a meatless lunch and I countered with a ridiculously oversized burger. I know, I try to avoid burgers these days, but menus are getting out of hand. The only thing recognizable are burgers. This is an actual menu listing

"Warm slices of oven-roasted turkey topped with a savory red onion & cranberry chutney, Applewood smoked bacon, melted Swiss and mayo. Served on a toasted rosemary ciabatta roll."

I don't recognize several words in there. Spell check doesn't even know them. I am afraid I will order something and then will hear laughter from the kitchen.

"Really! He ordered chutney? HA HA HA HA! Ciabatta? Doesn't the idiot know that's made from recycled tires? HA HA HA!"

But I ate, and eventually when I stopped sweating cholesterol we decided to go. And this was where I started driving......

Memories...Something something something something.

2008-04-20T11:29:00.001-07:00

Ok, it's time to unfold the saga that required a new profile, three new email addresses and a renewed interest in ginko. Here goes (man am I going to take a beating)

I have always been considered one of the bright ones. I'm not tooting my own horn here, but I always have been recognized as pretty sharp in the brain department. Gifted class, standardized test scores, dominance at trivia. You know what I mean. But something has been creeping into my head lately, or creeping out of it depending on your point of view.

Short term memory. You remember "Memento?" That great documentary film where Guy Pierce has a bit if trauma and can remember everything prior to the incident, but has to get tattoos to remind him of the new stuff? I think I have it.

You think I'm kidding? The current online password debacle proves my point. A month or so ago I had some suspicious activity going on with my yahoo account. I preserved the moment in blog form already (at least I think I did) so I will cut to the chase. I changed both of my email passwords, my myspace password, my ebay password etc. Shortly after they all left my head. Gone. All of a sudden I couldn't log into anything. Password recovery was no help. This is the back and forth I had with yahoo.

Me: Please help I think someone has hacked my account. All of my info has changed.
Yahoo: No problem just answer your security question.
Me: What is the question?
Yahoo: What is the name of your pet?
Me: Ummm.......I.........Which pet?
Yahoo: How should we know?
Me: I'm sure it was either a cat...or a dog...it had legs...Um......
Yahoo: Nice try.

It's not just online. I have forgotten my work login no less than three times. Three! The first time the I.T. person usually is helpful and solves the problem. After three times they seem to get a little miffed. The last time he reset my password to "I forgot." Smart ass.

Now you might think that my brain just doesn't work, but that isn't necessarily the case. I remember all sorts of things. It's just the things I remember aren't necessarily that useful. The other day I was paying a bill and the woman at the counter asked me for my address. I have lived here for three years, by this point I should know it right? Wrong.

"Umm...over on the west side of town. It's an apartment. You know. I think there are a few ones in the number."

If she had asked me who the guitarists for 80's hair band Whitesnake were I would have immediately said.

"Oh, that's Vivian Campbell and Adrian Vandenberg. Remember Vivian later left to join Def Leppard after Steve Clark died. And Adrian had a signature line of guitars that really gave Peavy a foothold in the guitar industry."

With that sort of response she would have been eager to help me. Instead I sat there heading a line of increasingly angry customers who actually knew where they lived.

You know what else? I can't remember people's names. Really! I can have a conversation with someone for several minutes at a time and have no clue what their name is. And these are people I know.

Person: "So he says to me John, that's an interesting fact John. But John, could you be more clear as to how it effects you personally John. Because you know my great interest in how this issue effects you John and indeed all other people named John. And furthermore, John, John, John, John, John."

The whole time this is going on I am thinking.

"Who is this again? Fred? Clarence? Charlie? Is it a J name? Jeremy? Yeah, must be Jeremy."

Quick ask me who was the Secretary of State under Reagan! James Watt! Haven't thought of that in twenty years. Now ask me what my own phone number is........Ummm......

Ok, you get the point. So I was having a conversation with my lady friend last night. (Hello gorgeous!) And she brought up the point that I often repeat things I have said before. Fair enough. I try to play it off as if the gravity of the topic warrants another mention, but usually it's some old story that really isn't all that important.

Like the time in the third grade where Trent Olsen, his brother Travis, and I got stuck in a sewer. It was in a field between the high school and St. Edmond's which was the catholic school. We had left the high school pool and decided to go exploring. I couldn't get out because the grip from my kangaroo brand (the shoe with the pocket!) sneakers was slipping on the top step. Eventually his mother Judy, who is married to Rich, came and pulled me out. My mother, Nancy, was pissed and told my father and I got in trouble and was not allowed to watch Welcome Back Kotter (starring Gabe Kaplan, John Travolta and the guy who did Roger Rabbit's voice) or stay up late to watch Soap which was Billy Crystal's debut television show and also featured Robert Guillome who of course played Benson in a spin off show.

You know what else? I remember the name of their dog, their phone number, what kind of car they drove, the stuff in their house, what they did for a living, the other people in the neighborhood and many many other details.

What day of the week my classes are on? Ummm.... Weekdays? I think.

Basically I am able to retain the sort of knowledge that does well on Jeopardy, but not necessarily in the "Who wants to be a mentally capable adult" game.

Here are random facts that are coming into my head right now. And some things I often forget.

What I remember: The entire set of lyrics to "Vanna Pick Me a letter."
What I forget: Why I went to Wal mart

What I remember: The intro to Thundarr the Barbarian
What I forget: Where I put my keys, hat, shoes etc.

What I remember: Climbing inside a cardboard robot math computer in kindergarten (1978)
What I forget: Birthdays of friends, relatives, children etc.

What I remember: Jimmy the Greek getting fired from CBS
What I forget: Which channel CBS is on my T.V.

What I remember: Every line to every Monty Python sketch ever (test me!)
What I forget: To actually return rented movies until the store calls and threatens me.

What I remember: "That Iocane comes from Australia, which everyone knows. And Australia is entirely peopled by criminals. And criminals are used to have people not trust them as you are not trusted by me so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you."
What I forget: Where did I park?

Well, not to belabor the point. Final score Jay's long term memory 100- Jay's short term memory 0. Game over.

It was just about a year ago today (part 2)

2008-03-07T14:52:00.000-08:00

Sorry to leave you hanging. I posted this a week ago and it seemed to work. Then...it disappeared. Who knows?

First a quick recap of the story done in dramatic cliffhanger "a look at last week’s episode" format as seen on Lost, Hill Street Blues or ...um...Welcome Back Kotter.

(Cue dramatic music)
Previously on the Blog. (Bom ba bommmmmm!)

Jay found himself in great pain. Jay weighed his medical options. Jay’s appendix seemed to be on the fritz. Jay’s girlfriend was way smarter than him and took him to the E.R.

and now the story continues.

I found myself lying on a exam table wearing what amounted to a child’s art smock. I assumed I was taking part in some trial run of Boone Hospital’s patient discouragement program. I guess the idea is that if the hospital can actively embarrass patients enough, they might decide against medical treatment in the future and therefore save the hospital the trouble of providing expensive medical services. At least that was my current mindset. We were waiting for a health care professional to come back and update us on my condition. I will admit something here. I was afraid by this point that it was all a false alarm.

Yes, I had searing pain in my abdomen. Yes, my vitals were all wacky. And yes when they pushed on a particular spot I felt as if I was about to give birth to a small but extremely feisty toad or small dwarf residing in my belly. All of this aside, I felt that it might be something benign. I had a terrible feeling that a doctor was going to come in squeeze my stomach in a certain way and I would end up paying several thousand dollars to fart in the emergency room. These are the things that run through your head before they give you any pain killers.

The current problems on my mind were basically involving movement..

1. I couldn’t find any comfortable position so I had to move about periodically which was really, really, really painful.

2. When I was able to move my undersized garment flashed my "business" for all to see.

Eventually a doctor, or at least a guy in scrubs, came in. I asked him if my appendix was indeed going to come out. He responded, and this is a quote, "Oh yeah!" Well at least one of us was excited. He then informed me that I needed to go to another room for some more tests.

The room I was supposed to go to was not technically any where near the room I was in. As a matter of fact it might have not even been in the same building. As I walked there I distinctly remember passing, the waiting room, the lobby, the reception area, the gift shop, the garage, and what quite possibly was Canada. No matter. If you can’t trudge several miles through cold hallways showing your ass to various people, what can you do?

When I got to the testing room, (apr. distance 37 miles) I noticed two things.

1. A really big and probably very expensive machine.
2. A guy eating dinner with his girlfriend.

Well two’s company and three is a party so I figured if they were fine with it, so was I. I mounted the table that fed into the large machine (oh, hello junk!) and let the festivities begin. I can only imagine the conversation that the two others in the room were having.

"So honey, I’m glad you came tonight. How’s your dinner?
(Me struggling to lay on the table with my lower region exposed)
"Um, I’m not really that hungry anymore. In fact I might not ever eat again."

If you have never had the pleasure of going inside one of these sorts of machines I will give you an idea of what it is like. Imagine being sealed inside something about the size of a large bathtub. Then have friends stand outside and make the following noises.

Hmmmm....hmmmmmmmmmmmm........hmmmmmmmmmm......CLICKY! CLICKY!! CLICKETY CLICK CLICK!!!! CHUNKA CHUNKA!! THUMPY!!!!! .......hmmmmm.....hmmmmm.........

At least that’s how I remember it. After all the tests it was time for surgery. To be honest I don’t remember much of it.

I remember being in a room with about 1000 people, give or take. They had given me some sort of anesthetic, and I was trying to start conversations with various people. I think I was trying to determine which one was the doctor. My goal was to have them save my appendix. Call me old fashioned, but I like the old days when they would put your tonsils or whatever in a jar and send you on your way. Remember those days? I do. Everything was better then. There were Saturday morning cartoons, everyone seemed more relaxed and from what I remember inflation was very low. But anyway, this is the conversation I think I had.

"Urmmm, a....pend......ix?"
"Yes, you are getting your appendix out."
"Eeurrgga.....mmmmm......me....append...........germmmm..."

And that was it. The next thing I knew I was waking up in mild to moderate discomfort in a hospital bed. I thought I had better check out the recent developments abdomen wise. It seems the first order of business was for some medical professional decided to shave me a bit. Fair enough. The odd thing was the areas they chose to shave. The appendix is in your lower abdomen. So they shaved me from the belly button to halfway down the "captains quarters" if you get my drift. Now my appendix is not really that close to that area. I can see them being extra careful, but why half way? Did my insurance only cover so much surface area? Maybe it was just to much ground to cover and they got tired out. (Ha!)

Anyway, a generous portion of my mid section was stained yellow. I assume this was on purpose. They hadn’t mentioned any localized yellow side effects The interesting thing is that you kind of use the hair in that area as a general measure of where things are. The end result was that I found myself showing off my new scar to people (strangers, nurses, janitors etc) and not necessarily knowing how far to pull my pants down. So people probably saw a little more then they bargained for.

The thing about having surgery is that the hospital gets pretty concerned about what you eat. The only thing that really did much for me was the jello. I was fortunate enough to have a friend who worked there, and she brought me what seemed to be 5 to 6 pounds of it. Thank you Lindsey, I tried my best, but 4 pounds is my limit.

I also got a nice surprise when Craig and Erin showed up. They took a bit of a collection from the office and brought me a gift. Looking at it now I know it is a delightful antique clown sitting on a swing which would be suitable for decorating your grandma’s house. But after just waking up and having some remnants of powerful hospitable caliber drugs in me, this is what I saw.

It really is the thought that counts.

Another thing that I feel the hospital needs to look in to is fluids. I pretty much constantly had fluids being pumped into me. Now don’t get me wrong, I like saline as much as the next guy. But I found myself having to go to the bathroom really, really, really often. Now this is no exaggeration. I would get up, drag my apparatus with me into the bathroom and pee for, remember I am being totally honest here, at least 5 minutes straight. You know those times when you really have to go? You stand (or sit) there and it seems like it goes forever. This made that look like nothing. I would reach the point where I thought there could not possibly be anymore, and then there were 2 or 3 minutes more. I was afraid to look in the mirror because it would not have surprised me to see my skin hanging limply around my skeleton completely devoid of any moisture. And I did this every hour or so. Open letter to hospital staff. Let’s ease up on the fluids. One bag good, 19..a little much.

Probably the best moment of the experience was when I checked out and got the first inkling of what the whole ordeal was going to cost. I got a bill that looked something like this.

Aggregated medical/surgical procedures...........9,016
Surgical/ Medical expenditure..........................2,402
Saline...........................................................27,568
Gratuity............................................................7.15

Total....................................Way more than you have

Now I’m not cynical. I know I’m paying for expertise, and the security of a job well done, and I’m sure that yellow gunk was made of %100 pure unicorn tears, but I’m scared to think what I would have owed if I had gotten something really serious done. God forbid I have a stroke (wait till the next blog) or something and I end up with a bill that comes in a three ring binder and contains numbers that rival the GNP of Ecuador.

But all in all, I was glad to be done. I never had much use for the appendix and frankly it didn’t seem to be much of a team player. Good riddance I say. Thanks to Josh I have a wonderful keepsake of my experience. If you look closely it’s a dramatic recreation of us playing a little hackysack at work. Instead of the traditional sack we decided to kick around the ol’ appendix. That’ll teach em’

By for now. Next time we will continue the medical theme. It’s going to be great. Take care everyone, keep your appendices clean.

It was just about a year ago today (part one)

2008-03-01T14:52:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody. Some folks have taken me to task for my lack of material lately. I know, I know. You know how life sometimes gets busy? You ever find you are running yourself ragged, struggling to keep up with things at school or at work? You don't have the time necessary for the important things. Or, you find yourself tired, groggy, stressed, and ultimately playing rock band until 6:00 in the morning on a work night? Ok, maybe not everyone relates to the last one, but you know what I mean. Or even if you don't, here's what I came to talk about.

It was one year minus 4 days ago. I was sitting in class awaiting the time when class would end so I could leave, go home, meet up with a friend and ultimately do something more exciting than learn about the wonderful world of educational law and ethics.

All of a sudden I noticed a sensation in my stomach. It came for a second and promptly went away. Initially I chalked it up to hunger. Let's see, when did I eat lunch? Around noon. Dinner? Hmm, I skipped it. So it would seem to make perfect sense to get a little peckish around 8:30. "Point taken stomach, you are certainly the judge of whether or not I have put sufficient nutrients into you." Soon, (estimated time 2 minutes) the pain returned and this time was a little stronger.

"Ok stomach I hear you. You are just going to have to wait a bit and I promise that we will find a solution which will be mutually acceptable for both of us. Don't bother with any more messages. I read you, and trust me, I am on the case. Perhaps a nice pot pie when we get home?"

In a few minutes my stomach responded with what I could only assume was a special message it reserves for when it really means business. If the first two pains could be somehow be placed on a numerical scale (and I see no reason why they couldn't) I would call them 2 1/2 to 3's. No big deal. The latest was more like a 7. "Hmm," I thought. "This is queer." Usually I don't get this hungry. Perhaps I should have devised a better eating schedule in order to avoid this sort of occurrence. It was about this time that my class was taking a short break. I stood up and realized something interesting. I couldn't stand upright. "Hmm," I mused. "This gets curiouser and curiouser." Most times I seem to be able to stand with little to discomfort. Currently that was not the case. So now what you are probably thinking is that I did what any normal person would do. Most likely you would make an attempt to analyze the situation, construct a hypothesis as to the causes of the problem, and devise an appropriate solution. This is not what I did. I, in fact, ignored the problem and decided to sit in for the rest of my class. Say what you will about me personally, but when it comes to class, I don't like to miss shit.

After my class was over (estimated time 4000 minutes) I got up and gingerly walked to my car. Walked might not be 100% accurate. Shuffled? Close. Staggered? Bingo! I staggered to my car with all the precision and grace of a classically trained dancer. That last sentence is only accurate if you replace "classically" and "trained" with "profoundly" and "handicapped." You know how the zombies looked in day/evening/dawn/lunchtime/recess of the dead? That was me. Step.....Slide....Moan.....Step....slide....moan......Must.....eat.....pot pie.....

I drove home (38,000 hours) and made my way into my apartment. Immediately I searched for anything I could put into my stomach. Let's see, chips, lettuce, cereal, various condiments. Any of these should have done the trick. Unfortunately nothing seemed to have any effect. My stomach was angry, and none of the burnt offerings I could supply seemed to appease his wrath. This is when I revised my hypothesis. If it wasn't a matter of putting something in, maybe it was a matter of getting things out. A-HA! I need 30 cc's of bathroom, stat!

Let's just say the bathroom didn't help either. In an effort to not repel the easily offended I won't delve into any detail here. I will only say, that we all have had occasions where you really wanted things to happen bathroom wise. Sometimes things don't happen in that way and it causes mild discomfort and apprehension. If that normal feeling can be equated to the population of Columbia Missouri (again , I see no reason..) than my current feeling was China. I desperately, completely, steadfastly, earnestly , really, really, reeeeeeally wanted to go. No dice. That's when reality started to seep in.

Quick quiz, which side of your abdomen is the appendix on? Don't know do you? Neither did I. No one knows! You just don't think about it. We all know where our hearts or brains or genitals are. Take a look, some things on that list are right out in the open. For those that aren't, you can feel them working. Heart? Chest. Brain? Skull. I know you can't feel your brain working, but trust me. Have way to much to drink one night and when you wake up, the pounding feeling is coming from there. But the appendix? Who knows? It doesn't do anything. I looked up some information about the appendix just now. This is what I found out.

"In human anatomy, the appendix (or vermiform appendix; also cecal appendix) is a blind ended tube connected to the cecum, from which it develops embryologically."

Honestly, I don't know what any of that means. But here are a few direct quotes I found.

1. The biological purpose of the appendix has mystified scientists for some time.

2. The term "vermiform" comes from Latin and means "worm-like in appearance"

I say all this because more and more I began to think that the appendix might be the culprit. I only had a rough idea of where the appendix was. When I say "rough" I define it as, "somewhere in the body." The research I did at the time brought me to this.

So after perusing this diagram (that's not my body by the way), I came to a conclusion. This mystifying worm like little bastard is starting to piss me off.

I decided to logically think about the situation. For my vantage point I had two real options

1. Take immediate action due to the fact that an unattended appendix inflammation which leads to a rupture is a medical liability which is not strategically advantageous to the body in the sense that it can cause infection or in some cases death.

2. Wait it out.

Of course I chose option 2. Luckily my at the time girlfriend was coming by. When she got there, her perceptive nature led her to notice something was awry. She observed I was not my usual bubbly self, and coincidentally I was lying on the floor and writhing in pain. Our conversation went like this.

"Why are you on the floor?"
"Urrrrrrrrrgh."
"Did you say urrrrrrgh."
"Urrrrrmmmmmmmma."
"I see....."

After a brief exchange, (estimated time 3,000,000 hours) we deduced that I was going to keep lying about on the floor and grunting, perhaps a trip to the emergency room was in order. So away we drove.

To her credit she is a good fast driver when she needs to be. I also give her kudos for driving with one hand while a increasingly pain stricken grunt machine was squeezing the blood from her free hand. In retrospect it is fortunate that we did not require medical attention for her as well.

"So it looks like we have one appendicitis and one case of severe hand crush disorder. Now can you wiggle your fingers?

"urrrrrrrrrgh"

"Not you! Keep the noise down you weak organed cry baby!"

But fortunately she made it through unscathed. I on the other hand was quite scathed indeed. After some initial tests, (approximate cost one million skillion dollars) it was determined that I did indeed have a rogue element in the body. My appendix, after years of neglect decided to ship out. It was cranky, disgruntled and was threatening to keep increasing in size until it burst open, spewing it's message of revolt throughout my abdominal cavity. "Fair enough," I thought. "If he's not happy living here with the rest of my organs, he can leave for all I care."

And that is where today's story ends. Tomorrow I will tell you about the wonders of the modern medical system. It will be a fascinating tale of intrigue, romance, extreme discomfort and jello. I'll see you tomorrow, if you have the guts. Ironically I don't.

If Microsoft buys Yahoo, will my email work again?

2008-02-09T14:35:00.000-08:00

It all started a week or so ago. I received some emails from some folks on ebay. When I say "folks" I really mean hackers, and when I say "ebay," I really mean some shitty third world country. Apparently the thing to do if you live in Korea, aside from avoiding police brutality, is to make the internet a poorer place to be. It seems that someone used my email name and somehow started bidding on things. On the bright side they are bidding on cool stuff. I never really had that great an interest in GPS receivers, but looking more closely at my bidding history it would seem that I am quite fond of them. So I did what seemed to be the logical thing. I changed my ebay password, my yahoo password, my gmail password, my ATM pin number and my work network login. You just can't be too careful!

I thought I had the problem fixed. I really wasn't too worried. After all it's a fake ebay account, I don't have mysterious products coming to my house, and I don't seem to be liable for anything. So all is well right?

Ok not really. I continued to get the odd message or two for a few days. People were really interested about having me buy their GPS systems. Don't get me wrong they looked really nice, but I don't really need 11 of them. Plus I generally don't go further than a couple of miles this way or that so there really is no point.

"Proceed..8...feet.....south.....Turn.....right.....You...have....arrived.....at....your...
...refrigerator."

But I was prepared for minor annoyance. I figured soon enough things would go back to normal and the only junk mail I would get would be the usual online pharmacy and penis enlargement offers. But things took a turn for the worse.

I went to check my email and something silly happened. I couldn't log in. I usually do the "keep me signed in" thing. Apparently the two week limit was up so I would have to enter my password. No problem. Type, type, type, click. whuuu? Type, type, type, click, huh? Type, type, type, click, swear, punch monitor.

I did the password recovery thing. Actually did is not accurate. Didn't would be closer. Failed at would be dead on. I entered my name, birthday, location and typed that ridiculous catchpa thing.

A side note. Fuck catchpas. They have gotten ridiculous. Some times you can read the letters, but they have started putting streaks and lines and other shit in there. Is that a "q" or a "g?" And what is this? Hieroglyphics? Is there an actual symbol that looks like an upside down 7? Not in this language shithead!

Sorry, I got carried away. I kept getting a message that said, "you must enter the information stored in your account." There was also a message saying, "you must also type in the letters in the security diagram." So I did it many, many, many times. The weird thing is that the message changed a few times. It would leave out one or the other message. I think the computer just got tired from displaying it so many times. Eventually it all got to be too much to bear. The computer reached it's limit of swearing and punching and locked me out of my account. It did stress to me that it was for my own safety. A cheerful message saying that I could try again after I enjoyed the 24 hour cooling off period.

Believe me I tried everything I could think of. I tried to log in under a different profile hoping that my stored password would work. I tried doing the password recovery from different browsers. I tried any variation of my personal information. I even sent a letter to yahoo. I worded it very nicely.

"Dear yahoo.

I am locked out of my account. Some shithead has gotten in and changed my stuff. I have been trying everything I can think of. Please help me. I have punched my monitor 5 or 6 times and that doesn't seem to be working. And what the fuck is up with the ebay stuff? I mean seriously guys! And I still get chain letters! Fix the spam blocking!! Yearrrrg!!!!

Your friend,
Jay

p.s. Hope the Microsoft thing is going well. Have a good weekend.

I haven't heard back yet. My fear is that my inbox is so stuffed full of messages about winning bids on GPS carrying cases that eventually it will shut down. Considering that Yahoo has been my primary mail for over a decade now I'm sort of tied to it. My hope is that the Yahoo folks are diligently working on my case. I imagine a board room with a big message on the dry erase board. "Urgent! Angry guy can't log in! Can't retrieve vital online pharmacy info!" I doubt it though. But just a warning. If someone has really ran away with my account you might see some strange messages. Presumably they will try to unload some of the GPS overstock.

All the boys think I'm a spy. I got...Betty Davis Eyes

2008-01-31T11:24:00.000-08:00

So I sat at home functionally blind from three feet in. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I'll back up.

A few days ago a got a phone call at 7 a.m. I don't usually answer phone calls at that hour for two main reasons.

1. I'm asleep
2. It's usually bad news of some sort.

So I did what what most normal Americans would do, I forgot about it entirely. Actually what I did was go back to sleep and had a really bizarre dream about Barbara Edens. Yes, the Barbara Edens from "I dream of Jeanie." Don't ask.

Later on in the day I decided to check my voicemail. This is what I heard.

"pshhhh....eye.......hssss....remind you.....hsssssssss.....apointment......Williams and......pshhhhhhhhh......o' clock....."

After a bit of decoding I realized that this was a friendly reminder that I had an eye appointment the following day. My problems were two fold.

1. The name of the office seemed different.
2. I'm not sure what time is meant by o'clock.

I figured that a quick call to the office would clear some things up. When I called I got their automated phone system. When I think of what will be the downfall of our society and possibly our planet, the first thing I think of is automated phone systems. Typically they waste time and serve to frustrate the caller. I have nightmares about foreign leaders trying to contact our president and hearing something like...

"Thank you for calling the White House. All operators are busy. If you need to speak to first lady press 1. If you have questions regarding current relations with Ecuador press 7. If you have had amendment 3 from the bill of rights violated press 9," and so on.

One of these days Vladimir Putin is going to call up have a nice chat about arms reduction and by the time he reaches Bush he will be so annoyed and frustrated he will launch a strike against Rhode Island. To tell the truth I wouldn't blame him one bit. Anyway...

After reaching an actual person (elapsed time 800 minutes) I found out that My appointment time was changed, the name of the office was changed and the location was changed. Apparently the only thing that had remained the same since my last visit was my inability to grasp how my vision insurance copay works.

On my way to the appointment I attempted to follow the directions I was given. Following them to the best of my ability led me to...the old office. "Hmm," I thought, "this is queer." I investigated further and sure enough there was an eye doctor's office right where I remembered it. Of course I went in, of course it looked exactly the same, and of course it was the wrong place. The girl at the front desk was nice enough to point vaguely in the direction of the new location. It was only like 2 blocks away so things were looking up. I called to verify that I was on my way. The girl on the phone told me that they were directly in between some oddly named stereo place and some sort of interior design shop. I later learned that this woman is clinically insane. In between the oddly named stereo place and the interior design shop was...a brick wall. Hmm," i thought, "this is even more queer." After consulting with a elderly woman in an adjoining office, we determined that a few hundred feet down was where I needed to be. Fair enough. I had no time to be bothered with trifles such as whether or not one office is between or not remotely near another. I had eye examining to get to.

This is where the story heats up. The first thing I did upon arrival is fill out some forms. Most of it was run of the mill stuff. And eventually I got to the one I was looking for. It wa a form to decline pupil-opti-retino mappy something or other. I decline this sort of thing for two reasons.

1. It seems to be an unnecessary procedure
2. It costs money.

Basically the procedure involves a computer scan which creates a 3-d image map of your eye. The doctor feels it's necessary, but I disagree. Realistically the only time it might get used is when I'm sitting there in the office. Since my eyes a permanently housed in skull it seems simpler to take a peek at them rather than some computer simulation. I guess there are times when my doctor might need a simulation of my eyes. Presumably she could take my eye scan home for some extra studying.

"Hey Jay I was bored, and there wasn't anything good on t.v so I thought I'd play around with a 3-d representation of your optical system. It's fun! We threw it into photoshop and added some color. Oh, yeah then we animated it and gave it Al Pacino's voice. Check it out we just put it on you tube!"

The only advantage I could see with the procedure is that it gets you out of eye dialation. I made it through a few decades without having this done and my doctor lately has been trying to make up for lost time. Frankly I'm not sold on the idea. I don't know what the medical benefits are, but I can't imagine it's worth it. I'm pretty sure it's just an elaborate practical joke the doctors have.

"Hey we got another one dialated out here. We also got him to wear a dress! I just put it on youtube!"

Actually I felt pretty safe. I had gotten the dialation done the time before so I was assured that I would be able to skip it this time. The exam itself went pretty smoothly. My prescription seemed about the same and my letter identification went swimmingly. Then....we had the talk. We discussed the benefits of the eye scan opti-retino thing. I again declined it. The doctor then told me she was getting the drops out.

You know what a protection racket is right? It's when some mafia thugs go into a business and offer to "protect" the for a few bucks. My eye doctor very well could be in the mob.

"These are nice eyeballs you have here. It'd be a shame if someone was to dialate them."

Despite my objections the drops went in and my pupils began to get silly. For maximum staff enjoyment they sent me out to wander the office while the dialation progressed. I opted to look for some prescription sunglasses while I waited. The thing about being dialated is that things kind of look normal until they get close. Then you realize that your eyes have no idea what they are doing. Once things get within 3 feet or so, you really lose the ability to focus on anything. So I tried to pick out a set of frames but I really had no ability to actually know what any of them looked like.

Now I am well aware of how eyeglass frames work. Some designer or trendy company has an artisan painstakingly craft a frame out of high tech (extremely fragile) materials and then the send it off to the accounting office where they slap a price tag on them. Usually its something like "The executive by Perry Ellis" List price: a million skillion dollars. So what you have in the end is a very flimsy piece of headwear that will break if you sneeze too often. Bearing this in mind I selected some that looked ok and gestured towards the clerk.

"Ma'am, I think these are ok, is this the price listed here?"
"Sir, that says made in Taiwan."
"I'll take em."

Eventually I finished my exam and went to pay. They handed me a copy of the bill which I squinted thoughtfully at in an effort to show I am an informed consumer. They came up with a figure which sounded wrong, but I was in no position to argue. My bill could have included extra charges for appetizers and gratuities and I would have only been able to squint and nod my approval. They rean my check card and I attempted to type in my pin number. Actually I just flailed at the keypad. I'm almost positive I typed in the wrong numbers but it seemed to work anyway. So if any of you notice a strange charge from an eye doctor on your account let me know.

Given my state of near blindness, the next logical step was for me to get into my car and drive away. I could see cars (I think they were cars) ahead of me, so I really felt fairly confident. The only problem was that the speedometer was located about 2 feet from my face which was a bit too close. I thought that ideally the engineers who designed my car really could have put it someplace a little more appropriate for this type of situation such as the hood, or the car in front of me. Did I mention it was snowing? Yeah, snow tends to reflect light which makes your eyes focus even worse. I thought the smart thing would be to get some sunglasses. I ran into the nearest break time (or jiffy lube I couldn't really tell) and looked for some sunglasses. They were remodeling so the sunglass rack had been removed. My conversation went like this.

"Do you have sunglasses?"
"What're needin' sunglasses for hon?"
"I was at the eye doctor.."
"Nah, they took 'em out for all the modelin'."
"Ok thanks"
"Hey what's wrong with your face?

I should point out that my eyes were enormous sat this point. The effect of having your eyes dialated is that you look constantly surprised by things. My eyes were as wide as they could possibly be. I talked to a handful of people over the next half hour or so and the conversations were pretty much like this.

"Hello sir can I help y.."
"There's nothing wrong with my eyes!"
"I see..can I help you with....."
"Dialated! That's all...Dialated!"

After a bit, I gave up on errands. I decided to go home and wait it out. To pass the time while I waited, I did what most people do. I watched "Dirty Dancing."
The doctor said it would take a "little bit" for my eyes to get back to normal. My focus came back after what seemed like 17 hours or so. And luckily enough the enormous shark eye look eventually went away. So all in all, I had the time of my life. Next year I will get to do it all over again. I can't wait. If you see a guy stumbling around looking for things it will probably be me. Do him a favor, hand him some sunglasses.

Let it flow in the breeze and grow down to my knees, oh my....hair!

2008-01-08T16:16:00.000-08:00

Like most men my age (29 again this year, lol!!!!!) I have done a bit of self analysis in the past couple of years. Nothing too serious. Just a cursory exam of the outer man to make sure everything is still reasonably functional. For the most part I am pretty pleased. I have a decent shape, I have a minimum amount of scars, and there doesn't seem to be anything growing on me that shouldn't. The only problem area I see is the hair. Let's go back to the beginning.

I was born with some pretty good hair. It was really dark and seemed to have a acceptable level of coverage. In relatively short order my initial hair left and I had to grow in a second batch. I'm told this is pretty normal with babies. Frankly it seems a bit silly. Inside the womb seems like the last place you need hair. And why bother if it's just going to fall out shortly after birth? I don't get it.

Anyway, I soon grew fairly think, really straight hair. I had the 70's bowl cut which was broken up by one enormous cowlick. Remember what Dennis the Menace looked like? That was pretty much me. I have a prety good preschool picture where my haircut and droopy face combine to make me look like the '77 special olympic poster boy. It's hot, trust me. I never bothered to do much with my hair over the years. I figured that...

1. I was a guy
2. It didn't seem to work anyway.

No matter what I tried my hair always reverted to the straight towards the floor, Moe from the three stooges look. It wasn't bad, I just wasn't anything special. Over the years I followed the normal trends. I tried shaggy, sideparted, middle parted, spiked, gelled, feathered, shaved, semi mulleted, Clooneyed , Caesared, skinned, and even mohawked. The one thing I never tried was the early 90's grunge era, long wavy thing. I always thought that my hair was too straight, too unmanageable and too hard to maintain to pull off this look. A few years back I thought, what the heck, I'll give it a try. What's the worst that can happen really? You grow it out and it looks bad? So you cut it off. No real loss. After years of thinking less was better, I decided to take the plunge. So now, all I had to do...was wait.

(5 or 6 months later)

Let's see. Getting reasonably long. Let's do a roll call here. Front? Check. Sides? Check, check. Back? che-what the eff! When the hell did I get so thin in the back? Why did nobody tell me? Sure my ex-wife might have said something but she was joking around, right? Wrong!

She wasn't joking. I had the beginnings of male pattern baldness. Now It's called male "pattern" baldness for a reason. There is supposed to be some discernible pattern to it. Well, I call bullshit. There's no reason for this. My Dad? Full head of hair. My brother? Full head of hair. My Grandpa? Ok, he's bald, but the baldness gene is just going to skip those two? Nonsense.

I did a little research on baldness, and this is what I found.

Possible baldness causes

Stress- Fair enough. I have been a raging stress bucket for the last few decades. So lowering my stress level should help. Point well taken

Smoking- Damn! Smoking is just bad on so many levels isn't it? Well shit, one more good reason to quit. Damn the tobacco industry. Damn them!

DHT- DHT is a sex hormone produced by men that....wait a minute. Sex hormone? In other words. I'm too sexy for my own good! A-ha! I always knew this. All this time you ladies were thinking, "hmm, a little thin in the back." When you should have been thinking "look at that raging sex machine!" I don't blame you. I didn't know this either. But the scientific community has spoken, the next step is up to you.

Possible cures/treatments.

Comb overs- Alright if they are not going to take this seriously.

Topical medications- Most of the remedies I have found center on blocking DHT production. In other words, less sexy pills. I'm not sure if this is the road to go down. Let's say it doesn't work. Then I've got baldness and less sexiness. So I go from me to Mickey Rooney. I really need to be careful here.

Surgery- This just isn't going to happen. They basically load up about a million skillion needles and methodically poke them into your head. Yuck. Plus how do you know what the hair is going to look like? I'm blondish-brownish and relatively straight. How do I know that I'm not getting black and curly? And what about those horror stories where someone gets a transplant and they take on the traits of the donor? Like that new Jessica Alba movie where she gets new corneas or something and she turns into a serial killer? Huh? Answer that science!

Laser technology- Wha... I looked this up and apparently it's legit. You use a lazer and it stimulates (rawr) your follicles. Nice. The unit looks like a regular brush but with these little lights on it. When you turn it on it pulses low level lasers into your skull. From the early results it looks promising, although the side effect is excess hair on your cortex which may or may not effect motor skills.

Ignoring it- Ok, the feel good part of the blog is that we can all accept who we are and learn to love ourselves no matter what. Bullshit, I'm not here to accept anything. If I was I would say bald is beautiful and go about my business. You know who says bald is beautiful? Bald people. When is the last time you saw a really fancy chick going through her checklist of desirable traits in a man and saying, "ooh..look at the bald one! That shiny head is making my pants fall off!" I think the Japanese were right when they said "bird never make nest in tree with no leaf." Aside from the poor grammar I think they make a good point. I'm not suggesting that I want a lady to make a nest on my head, but I think the point is taken.

So to sum up, baldness....not so good. Sure there are men who can pull it off. Michael Jordan, Bruce Willis, Sean Connery, Sinead O'connor. They all are sexy and rich. Which of course is better than being homely and poor. I think I'm opting for a mixture of strategies here. Less stress, no smoking, minimal comb over and a kick ass laser apparatus. I'm keeping my DHT though. A man has to have something to fall back on.

Gonna have to face it, I'm addicted to love...And cigarettes.

2007-12-26T16:42:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody! It's that time of year when we move past the ritualized excess of Christmas food and consumer goods to the ritualized excess of New Years eve alcohol and bad music. Yes, it's the magic time of year where we laugh more, hug more, and generally get more paid days off of work. Now I know the inevitable questions you are going to ask.

1. Are you making a New Years resolution?
2. Is this resolution going to be quitting smoking?
3. I mean seriously, you're going to quit smoking right?

My answers are as follows

1. Yes
2. Of course
3. Alright I get it!

I like 44.5 million other Americans are smokers. This number includes regular smokers. This doesn't include occasional smokers which scientists call "bummers." With those people included, as judged by how many people come up to me to "borrow" them, the number swells to about 60 million. If estimates were done on people while out drinking, the number jumps to well over 100 million. In scientific terms this is known as "a lot." Now when it comes to New Years resolutions this is the biggie. Everyone I know who smokes has resolved to quit after New Years. So far the number of people I know who have successfully quit after New Years is....um...let's see.....carry the two....um.....ok, zero. But do you think that is going to stop me? Well, probably, but it's worth a shot.

Consulting my records, I see that I have been smoking since Sept 5th 1992. It was that day I sat with my friend Matt Cross and uttered those fateful words, "Hey, can I bum one of those?" At the time I thought it sociable, and truthfully, it is kind of nice to sit and take a break with a friend and just enjoy the simple pleasure of inhaling toxic chemicals into your body. Soon thereafter I went through the three distinct phases that all smokers go through.

1. Occasionally bumming one from a friend in certain social situations
2. Eventually buying a pack to alleviate the occasional bumming from a friend
3. All of a sudden buying a pack and bumming them to non-smokers

It always happens like this. It's like in zombie movies where you are an average everyday non-zombie and then you hang out with one. Sooner or later he/she bites you which then turns you into a zombie who then seeks to bite other non-zombies.. That's right, cigarettes are just like becoming a zombie only more hazardous to your health.

And how do we know cigarettes are bad for you? Maybe by the constant stream of anti cigarette messages we have received via television, radio, newspaper, internet, your mother, billboards, magazines and snotty little kids who should mind their own business. For a while you couldn't really blame people for smoking. Our good friends in the tobacco industry might have been less than clear on the dangers of smoking. Take for example this actual television commercial from the 1950's.

"Try new full flavor apache brand cigarettes! For smokers with the adventurous spirit! Smoking apaches cures tired blood! Really! Feel that wonderful tobacco goodness! Smoke apaches and strangers will lust for you...guaranteed!!!"

Ok that might not be word for word, but you get the idea. Tobacco companies were busy promoting the positive benefits of smoking, while scientists were increasingly coming to realize that smoking might not be all that good for you.

New York (AP)

The Surgeon General today released his report on the effects of cigarette smoking. He found that cigarettes may cause lung cancer, emphysema, heart disease, shortness of breath, scoliosis, athletes foot, restless leg syndrome, communism, and sexual dysfunction. "Wow," the Surgeon General said, "I mean we thought it was bad, but sweet Jesus! Hang on....kidney stones too? We're still working on high blood pressure..Check later in the week." Spokesmen from the American tobacco industry declined to comment.

Now having the information from the Surgeon General (the highest ranking surgeon in the army) fresh on my mind I decided to weigh the pros and cons before attempting my first cigarette.

Cons- Cigarettes are dangerous, expensive, smelly, inconvenient and unsanitary.

Pros- My friend has one he will bum me.

So of course, I went down ol' tobacco road like so many other people (idiots) before me. That was 15 years, 3 months, 21 days and 7 hours ago. That is a total of 5586 days. If we average a pack a day that gives us 111,720 cigarettes. Each cigarette is supposed to take 7 minutes off of your life. (one minute in dog years) So that is 782,040 minutes, which in terms of years is (wow, this is a lot of math) like a year and a half. So an average man is expected to live to about 74 years, so I should expect 72 1/2. Thats not too bad. I will make a sexy old fella, what with my oxygen tank and all.

But what you are going to say is, "hey Jay won't that number go down with each cigarette you have?" The answer mr. or mrs. smarty pants is, yes it will. Now before someone says itt, I know that these are averages and all sorts of exceptions and other factors come into play. I'm just saying this info comes from the Surgeon General, and if you disagree with him, he still has the power to order airstrikes on your house, so watch it!

So taking all the information into consideration I have come to the obvious conclusion and that it, That O.J. did it. No wait! Wrong obvious conclusion! What I am talking about here is that I am quitting and the sooner the better.

I have a few strategies that I have heard will work.

1. The replacement strategy- In this method you replace an addiction with something that is less addictive and less harmful. The two obvious choices here are heroin or sex. At this point either will work. I mean heroin might be pretty harsh but the good news is that I will run out of money far more quickly thereby making it impossible to keep it up. The other option is sex which also would have the benefit of regular exercise.

2. The annoyance strategy- This involves all of the people around you. Basically you tell everyone you know to keep you away from cigarette. Under no circumstances are people allowed to bum them to you, buy them for you, let you smoke if you sneak one, think about smoking, walk by places that sell cigarettes or associate with other smokers. What they are allowed to do is bother you incessantly. I mean awful, annoying, guilt tripping, browbeating, hand wringing, downtalking, friendship scarring behavior that is the only thing that will ultimately get you to leave those wonderful, wonderful cancer sticks behind.

So that's it. I'm going with option 2. Frankly 1 sounds better, but I am being realistic here. As a relatively clean cut, upstanding boy, my access to certain "resources" around here is kind of limited. I could search all day through all sorts of neighborhoods and not "score" as it is called out on the mean streets. Although I could probably find heroin without too much problem.

Holiday ro-ohh-ohh-ohh-ahh-ohh-ohhh-ahh-ohh-oad!

2007-12-16T16:44:00.000-08:00

So here we are thighs deep in the holiday season. Many people have called it the most wonderful time of the year. Those people are usually taking a lot of prescription medication. For a lot of us, the holidays are filled with stress, anxiety, tension, and credit card bills the size of baked hams. This is a sample itinerary for me. It's not precise, but it shows pretty closely what my season is like.

Nov 19th- My son's birthday. This one obviously I can't miss. Make sure to travel to see him, and plan a birthday party around a time when he is here. The upshot is that he gets two birthday parties/dinners and I get a rare chance to eat cake more often than necessary. Grade: A

Nov 21st- My birthday. I don't do much usually. There is an age when birthdays because less and less of a big deal to you and those around you. That age is 18. Mostly after 18 your friends take you out and give you dangerous amounts of alcohol. They will buy you shots with names like "the widowmaker" and take pictures when you look your least attractive. This year my friends entered me into an endurance contest where I drank enough until it seemed like a good idea to have a friend take my contacts out for me. I mean she is studying to be an eye doctor. What better time to practice? Grade: B-

Nov 21st-Nov28th- Somewhere in here is Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving falls on the third thursday of the month. Or is it the fourth? Hell, I can't remember. Years back Abe Lincoln designated that we should have a national day of thanks where we gather with family, eat a hearty meal and then collapse on the couch and watch the Detroit Lions lose to the Dallas Cowboys. Grade: B+

Now whatever day falls right after thanksgiving is the day things really get cooking. This is the official start of the shopping season. I'm sure Abe had this in mind when he wrote, "Four score and seven years ago, our forefathers brought forth on this continent the shopping mall which will have great door buster specials if you are willing to get there by four or five in the morning."

Nov 28-Dec 25th- Here is how mine goes, your results may vary.

Dec 1- Start to determine where Christmas will occur. Either it will be in your hometown, or at a relatives roughly a million skillion miles away. Christmas music at this point is in it's 5th week. Grade: C-

Dec 2-10- Try to determine when both sets of parents can visit so as not to be in the same room at the same time. Resolve to get car in for oil change or other preventive maintenance Grade: 2 of 5 stars

Dec 11- Deciding to mail presents to out of town relatives who cannot get back again this year. Christmas music has really started to get annoying Grade: pass/fail

Dec 12-15- Rearranging plans according to new developments.

ex. Dad is going to wait until to 25th because mom has to be there the 22-24th because they also have to visit the other kids from the 19-21st because their other parents are there from the 22nd on, so you should plan to be there on the 24th providing your children are available after seeing their mothers parents from the 22nd-24th and before their future grandparents somewhere between the 20th and 26th. Grade: Incomplete

Dec 16th- Think again about getting presents. Remember to mail them once they are acquired. Put off car maintenance. Grade: C-

Dec 17-22- Catch up on work and finalize plans for travel. Really, really plan to go shopping and upgrade presents to fed-ex delivery. Bitch to relatives about how complicated Christmas plans are. Vow to just stay home next year. Grade: unsure

Dec 23- Frantically start buying presents at whatever places still have merchandise to buy. Consider upgrading to overnight delivery. Avoid the urge to scream when "holly jolly Christmas" is head for the 1000th time. Grade: F-

Dec 24th- Head to any store that is open, buy whatever is left. Stand in line with others who are doing preventative car maintenance. Beg fed-ex to get presents delivered. Leave for destination 3-3 1/2 hours late. Grade: who knows?

Dec 25th- Dinner will start 1 hour late. Open presents. Watch "A Christmas Story." Determine when is the appropriate time to leave. Grade: I forget

Dec 26-Jan 1- Drink heavily. Grade: A++

Now I know some of you are more on the ball than I am. You did your shopping the day after Christmas last year. You got up, got to the store and found wonderful bargains that you then forgot in your closet so eventually you bought more presents for the same people. You will discover these gifts when you move. Some of you got gift cards for everyone or just wrote some checks. You are the best . Unless you have esp, the recipient has a better idea of what they want than you do. Give money, it is way way easier. I always loved the scene in Donnie Brasco where Depp and Pacino get together and give each other their presents. Each gets an envelope which they open to find a fat wad of bills. What better way to say I love you.

So there it is. Hope your holidays are going well. I would have talked about New Years, but I'm not sure I have the strength. I am leaving for Kansas city to see my dad because he is going to Omaha early because my mom is going a few days later, so he will be leaving for Illinois to see the other kids so..............

You say you want a (r)evolution, well you know.

2007-12-11T16:48:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody! I dropped in to give you some exciting science news! What, you thought this blog was only silliness and occasional bitching? No way folks, today we discuss evolution. For those of you who don't believe in evolution just take your red state, no sex-ed in school, anti universal health care, Mitt Romney lovin butts and get on the road to nowsville. We are charging forward, embracing the scientific world and together we might just learn enough so that one day we might stop getting our asses kicked by the Chinese in academic decathlons. Ready? Let's go!

First of all let me say, I love science. Ever since I was a boy (three years ago) I have been delighted to figure out how and why things work. Now as a child we pretty much had one method of discovery. That method involved disassembling something. Lightswitch...disassemble. Meteorite...disassemble. Frog...totally disassemble. So we yanked stuff apart to see how it fit together and with any luck went back together. This was pretty much an accepted scientific method for a long time. It wasn't exact, but it sometimes worked. If we wanted to know how plants grew we took them apart. If we wanted to see what the ground was made of we dug it up. It even led into the field of medicine.

"Doctor, I was coming back from the witch burning and I noticed a sharp pain in my leg."
"Well let's get it off your body and see what's the matter."

But later on more scientific methods were developed. We no longer had to rip stuff apart to see how things worked. In truth we still do some of that because it is really quite fun. But nowadays we can observe, test, speculate, hypothesize, simulate and all sorts of other things to get information. That leads me to evolution.

I love it. I'm on board. Every time there is some new piece of evidence I get all worked up. It's typically something like.

"Today in Jakarta scientists discovered new evidence that suggests that Homo Habilis might have lived as many as 2.5 million years ago, instead of 2.4. Also many of them might have been named Greg."

I read this and I get nuts. The fun thing is that it always seems to be changing. Not a day goes by where some new find doesn't alter the scientific landscape. Years back we relied on much of our knowledge from documentaries like the Flintstones. But the more we research, we find that humans rarely had dinosaurs as pets. We also know that almost never were they used as vacuum cleaners and showerheads. But these are the growing pains we go through to get at the real truth. I love how one chance finding forces us to change our entire perceptions. One day we will have pretty solid thoughts on the mating habits of the triceratops and then some researcher will discover a few fossils of some triceratops spooning and it throws it all on it's ear.

"After the discovery of a triceratops mating pair in India today, scientists have revised their beliefs about dinosaur mate selection.
"It would seem," Hubert Frumple noted paleontologist said, "that they worried less about physical prowess and more about brain capacity. I mean this female here obviously chose a smaller male, but he appeared to have a larger brain mass which meant she obviously was attracted to the small, quiet type who isn't into sports and maybe would be available for quiet nights at home or chess, or just a caring guy who is really, really lonely and just needs a woman who will look underneath the surface and not be caught up in muscles, and strength and really just give a guy a chance. C'mon ladies, it all makes sense, doesn't it?"

This leads me to today's news.

Scientists have postulated that humans, long thought to have ceased the evolutionary process some 40-50 thousand years ago, are not only still evolving, but evolving at a much faster rate than ever before. This has caused a scientific tizzy. This means we are changing all the time. And the more people that are born will only increase the rate. Do you feel like we are evolving? I sure do! I have evolved like crazy. After a lifetime of breeding, mostly with myself, I am way different than I ever was. I used to love loud music and parties. Hell I even watched MTV. Now, I can't be bothered. Loud places make me nuts. And MTV? Forget that nonsense. And that's not all! I used to have lots and lots of energy. I ran and played sports and stuff. Now I do very little of that, but I find I use my brain way, way more. This all totally makes sense! The female triceratops love me. A day doesn't pass where one of them doesn't come up and noticing the size of my cranium immediately desires my offspring. It's like I'm a quadraceratops or something. Man science is the best! When you sit down and really look at it, it is all so obvious.

You’ve got a fast car. Is it fast enough so we can fly away?

2007-12-09T16:57:00.000-08:00

ou’ve got a fast car. Is it fast enough so we can fly away?
To answer Tracy Chapman's question, no not really. For those of you who know me, you probably know that I do indeed have a car. I don't want to brag here, but I am the proud owner of a 2000 Hyundai Sonata. Extravagant you say? Well yes, in terms of sexiness, my car goes to 11, but hell, did you expect any less? I did a little checking through the owners manual earlier and I discovered something. Checking the mileage I discovered that there are a few distinct phases the Hyundai owner can expect from his/her/it's vehicle. I recently passed through the "seems to get you from point a to point b with a minimum of hassle or worry" phase, and progressed into the "annoying little shit starts to go wrong" phase.

The first inkling of this shift in functionality started a while back. My key ring lock opener thing stopped working. This is a very minor thing. Most of you are saying, "Jay certainly you had a spare right? I mean, they usually give you two."

Yes I had a spare, and it worked...for about a week. Now it sort of works. I press it, and 3 out of 5 times it works. It's not frequent enough to be considered reliable, but just frequent enough to make you forget that it very well might not work which leaves you standing there looking foolish, pressing the button a few times until you give up and use the key thereby alerting everyone around that your lock thing doesn't work right. And speaking of locks. You ever try to turn the key and I doesn't work until you jiggle it just right? I sure do. This happens 2 of every 5 times I go to get in my car. In the back of your mind you just know that eventually the key will snap and you will be helpless. The next step of course is having to use the passenger side lock. Nothing is more suave than giving a ride to someone when you have to unlock the passenger side.

"Here darling, let me get your door."
"Oh, you really didn't have to do that!"
"No don't mention it! Now could you reach across and let me in? See, I bet you totally want to make out now, huh?"

On to the next phenomenon....the windows. Several months back I was driving and I heard a strange popping sound. It sounded a lot like someone had tossed a small rock against my window. I didn't think much of it until I hit the highway. Apparently my window somehow popped of the track just enough to where it doesn't seal properly at the top. You don't notice it until you hit highway speed, and then you get a practical science lesson about how whistles work. To alleviate the whistle I would crack the window on the driver side thereby equalizing the pressure and drastically reducing the whistle but increasing the road noise. I frequently get calls when on the highway and they go something like this.

"Ring...ring....Hello (whistle whistle) no, it's the window (WHISTLE) wait let me, (WHISTLE WHISTLE) I'll roll down, (WHOOOSH) there better? Hello, Hello! (WHOOOOOOSH) Can you hear me now? What? Hang on, I'll roll up, (WHISTLE) Hello? Shit."

Recently my whistle window stopped. I can't explain it. But my driver window, apparently feeling left out did a strange thing. It made a similar pop when I stopped one day. I didn't think much of it until I got home and tried to roll it up. This is the noise it made. "grrrrrrrrrrrrr, freoooooowwwwwww, crinkle crinkle." Consulting my manual, I discovered that either my window motor was bad, or there was a tiny creature drilling through my door frame. So I couldn't use my window which doesn't sound so bad especially since we just had gotten into the first cold days of the year. Oh, did I mention it didn't go all the way up? Yeah, it was down by two to three inches. We tried to pull it up to close it, but it pretty much would slip back down quite a ways into the door. I assume that it was only the small drilling creatures that kept it from disappearing entirely into the door. Eventually, after disassembling the entire door, we got it back up and removed a few pieces of elaborate looking hardware. Eventually I will go to a part supply store and they will charge me 157 dollars (it's always this much) for a new window thing, or a perhaps a detonator, I really couldn't tell the two apart. So that's all that could really go wrong window wise , right? Not so fast. Recently we got our first round of ice and snow. I did the tried and true Iowa method for getting a car ready for winter travel. I turned it on, blasted the heat and waited until it was sufficiently defrosted. This method had worked for me for the the bulk of my driving life. No need for tedious scraping when you can let physics do the job for you. So when a sufficient amount of window was clear (about 12%) I hopped in and went about my way. I heard almost the identical popping sound. Certainly it couldn't have been either of my windows, because the were already popped. No, this time it was the windshield. My windshield, wanting to join his brethren, decided to announce his presence. Since he doesn't roll up or down (that would be silly) he instead decided to make a little crack in himself. When I say little what I really mean is about 75% of the way across. "Hmm," I thought, "this is queer." I really have no remedy for the problem. I could replace the windshield, but honestly it is low enough that it is not a visual hazard, and most likely the new windshield would realize the vibe in the car and implode or something. So I will grit my teeth and bear it. I could tell you about the stereo conundrum or the mystery of the two extra catalytic converters, but I will save those for later. Until next time, appreciate your car, cause if you don't, it will turn on you. Believe me on this.

Old man take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you

2007-12-01T17:01:00.000-08:00

** Editors note. I have noticed a trend in these blogs. Typically they are of two varieties.
1. Sensible, thought out, grammatically correct pieces of prose written at moments of sincere reflection and introspection.

2. Drunken musings with typos.

Look at the times when you read them. If anything is written post 12:00, it probably is in the second category. I have resisted the urge to edit any of these as they are snapshots of thoughts at any given time. So please, forgive the grammar every so often. Even Hemingway wrote a bit while drunk. Actually he wrote a lot when drunk. Anyway, on with the blog.

I enjoy philosophical discussions a great deal. I love to debate, argue, bicker, reason and persuade more than just about anything else. There is something quite exhilarating about a good mental jousting session. So to that end, today I tackle the bible.

There has been a debate for millennia about whether or not certain parts of the bible should be taken literally, or instead be evaluated on a metaphorical or symbolic sense. This is not unique to the Bible, but is common for most religions. There are some pretty extraordinary claims in Islam, Buddhism, Wicca and about any other spiritual philosophy that you might encounter. Whatever your take, I think we can all agree on one thing. People in the bible lived for a hell of a long time. It is said that Adam lived for about 920 years, Noah for 950, and Methuselah for 969. That is really, really, really long. I discussed this once with a person who told me that humans were in a state of de-evolution. I politely listened even though I was pretty sure that average life expectancies were drastically lower during biblical times than they are now. But I really didn't come here to start an in-depth discussion on the literal validity of the bible, I came her to talk about how the bible is at odds with football.

I played some football yesterday after a hiatus of roughly a decade. This wasn't full on tackle, athletic type football. This was more low to moderate impact two hand touch football. That being said, I am as sore as if I suited up for the Chiefs. You know, there may be something to the theory of de-evolution. I know I am moving backwards. A decade ago I could have played for a few hours with only mild discomfort. Today, I have pains in muscles I didn't even know existed. Really, how many muscles are in the legs? I have muscles screaming at me that I never ever knew were there. I can only assume that they have grown in over the past few years and they are just now getting a real workout. Now the age of the people playing was anywhere from the early 20's to the early 30's. We are all relatively healthy people, or if we include Dalton in the average, really, really fit, athletic people. We keep a decent amount of exercise in our weekly routines, and none of us seem to have any major physical impediments. Several of us played sports in high school or college. And we even get up for a few vigorous sessions of hackysack a few times a day. That being said, after the game it was like we had a gas leak in our office. There was a tangible feeling of lethargy in the air. Morale was high, but productivity was low.

This all leads me back to the bible. By our early 20's or 30's we are phsical disasters. Most of us will make it to 70 or 80 but by then we will be fragile tired creatures whose idea of fun will be seeing if we can make to through the 9:00 news without collapsing into our dinner. If any of us made it to 900 I imagine we would be even more miserable. I mean boredom for starters. What the hell do you do for 900 years? Let's see, retire at 65 and then.....um.....er..... Really, I can't think of anything. I have my doubts about extreme longevity. I've been to nursing homes. As people close in on 100 the really start to go downhill. The way it looks to me, if people really did make it to 200, let alone 900 they would be shriveled tiny figures with little if any working organs. I know I will be. I'm 34 and most of my stuff is crapping out. In the last year I lost an appendix, had increased stiffness in my hip socket, and my wrists crack loudly enough to wake the neighbors. If I make it to 900 my body will just start to jettison parts as I walk.

Now I'm no scientist or doctor, but I'm giving myself about 70 or 75 years on this planet. I'm planning for a solid 10 years after I (hopefully) retire to do the things I always wanted to do, see the people I always wanted to see, and generally get things in order. If I live to 900 my whole plan is screwed. I can't save enough for 820 years of retirement. I don't think they even make an IRA which takes this sort of thing in to account. That would mean I have to work a lot more than I planned. Given the estimated rate of inflation over the next 800 years, I can assume something like a newspaper and a cup of tea are going to run me about $6,000. That means I need to sock away about....um....carry the two....a billion or two dollars by the time I am 65. That is if I plan to live on the cheap. If I want to have a good time I had better budget 3-4 billion. That means I need to start putting a few hundred thousand a month into my retirement plan. Maybe if I cut back a bit here and there I can come up with that. Anyway, speaking of football, Missouri is playing the biggest game in the history of the program today. If they need a 34 year old running back who complains of stiffness I am their man. Just don't call me to play when I'm 900.

Do you realize?

2007-11-29T17:03:00.000-08:00

So here we are, me typing away reminiscing about passing 2000 reads, you wondering what nonsense I came up with today. I know, it's a small milestone, but we should stop to reflect from time to time. When we stop to recognize small achievements we remind ourselves of why we try in the first place. Why do I write this blog? In a word...because. I write because my head fills and I need to release. Some of you read because it means something, some out of curiosity, and some because you stumble across this page and wonder what that guy is all about. Well, we are all right. Regardless of the reason, this is our meeting place. This is the chance for us to connect in a small way. I smile when I write it, so of you smile when you read it. That is reason enough my friends.

I wrote a 4 parter recently about what went on in the world in the last 34 years. In a way it was an attempt to make my experience make sense within the larger, and more important, framework of the world. Tonight is similar but different. Instead of the last 34, I will talk about the span in between my first and last blogs. It's a bit self serving, but hell, if you want it to be about you, write your own blog.

June 2007-
What a place to begin. I think it was the 17th. I wrote a blog about the scant few mentions in periodicals about my personal film group. Meanwhile other far more important things were happening. Worldwide, Live 8 was going on, inflation in Zimbabwe rose by %11,000, and the British police find a couple of bombs left by terrorists. So, a coalition of well meaning artists fighting poverty, a ridiculous situation in a third world country desperately striving towards survival, and a fight agaonst violent extremists intent on murdering innocent civilians. What was I doing? Moping I think. We had just done Brickwall 2 which was fun despite not winning. I also had recently broke up with someone who was just a fantastic girl. Plus it was starting to get hot, and I hate the summers anymore. To sum up, June...disappointed, hot, tense.

July 2007-

Hotter yet. July in Missouri starts to get uncomfortable. That feeling of hot air blowing on you begins to get old. Sure it was ok when it was once in a while. You even expect it because of all the silly things you said during our winter here. Let me just say that we really have nothing to complain about. Winter here usually is short. It's not like Iowa where the cold rolled in about Halloween and stayed until Easter. Yes cold here is unpleasant, but by the time you start to hate it it's leaving. In Iowa you got familiar with the cold. You got to know it well. Knew it on a first name basis, and eventually began to pray to it.

"Please cold, just one day. One day of above freezing. That's all I ask. Can I offer you money, my first born? Anything really. I just want to be able to breathe through my nose again."

What was going on in the world? Funny you should ask.

Our president looked into the soviet president's eyes and saw his soul. I didn't make that up. Even Putin at this point offered to kill a speechwriter out of sheer principal. Blech. Pope "Dracula" Benedict approved a document stating that the Catholic church is the only means to salvation. Did this surprise anyone? The Catholics declare they are the only correct form of Christianity. I thought this was the whole point.Since when have the Catholics said "hey baptists, you have some good stuff too." Never. This was non-news as far as I was concerned. Ever been to a Catholic wedding? They are not shy about letting you know that you are on the wrong path. Trust me on this. Also China executed an official who screwed up and oversaw tainted food products. Look I'm all for human rights, but maybe China is on to something here. How seriously would you take your job if you knew that you might be killed if you screwed up? You think your i's would be dotted and your t's crossed? Yeah, mine too.

August 2007-

Holy shit it's hot. I literally stepped outside a few times and thought, "no, it just isn't worth it." It reached about 1000 degrees here. I would say that was an exaggeration, but I'm pretty sure it's true. I found sweat glands that I didn't know I had. Can your eyes sweat? Mine did. It got so hot at one point that a major bridge in Minneapolis collapsed. You know Minnesota? Breezy state, lots of lakes, decent sports teams? Well one morning a bridge just dropped during rush hour traffic. Yeesh. That led to a comprehensive review of bridges in every state where the results were pretty much unanimous. "You mean we have to actually maintain these things?" I avoided bridges for most of the month. Except for the Missouri River bridge. I think I felt like if I did plummet into the river, at least I would cool off.

September 2007-
Bush visits Iraq and declares that a reduction of troops is possible, if progress is made, violence goes down, and if anyone can guess the number of fingers he is holding behind his back."Three?" Actually it was a trick question. He wasn't holding any fingers which meant eventually we would increase the number of troops dramatically. This came to be known as the "He-he..got ya! doctrine" which continues to this day. Also Senator Larry Craig disputes his guilty plea in his bathroom sex sting case. Man was this ever funny. I think I was getting laid a lot this month too. Not with men in restrooms, but with actual ladies. Larry here's a tip. Just admit to it. It saves time. If meeting strange men in public restrooms is your thing, go with it, who are we to judge?

October 2007-
In a bold move meant to bolster his sagging approval ratings president Bush addresses the S-chip legislation. Basically a bipartisan group of legislators sought to insure health care coverage for American children who otherwise would have had none. Upon consideration Bush said "Fuck em, I mean , kids don't get sick these days anyway. Their too busy with them ipods and shit." It would have cost a lot to cover these kids. Like a few billion or something. That seems like a lot until you realize that the U.S. spent that much in Iraq that month on office supplies.What was I doing during all this? I think I was plotting the death of my academic adviser. After spending a year working towards my teaching certificate, my adviser told me that I wasn't taking my final class towards it, but instead I would need to take about 15 more classes. And then I would have to defeat the minotaur and locate the lost continent of Atlantis. Following this my application would be reviewed by a committee, so don't hold my breath. Look, I like spending years of my life setting fire to large piles of money, but I would have to admit, this was a surprise.

November 2007-

This about brings us to the present. As for the world, Pakistan is heating up, the writers guild goes on strike, and Burma is "balls crazy." Personally, I had a birthday, won a film contest, got a tattoo, and sunk into a deep depression. Not all in that order, but you know what I mean. Yeah, I went mopey for a bit due to 34 years of channeling my aggression and stress into a tight ball in the pit of my stomach. Guys, you know what this is like. Luckily I had friends who recognized the symptoms and assured me that my explanation of just being tired was, "complete bullshit." So thanks to Josh, Amy and Kelly, who know a good pile of bullshit when they smell it. But all is well with the world now. Well, not really, but all is well with me. And hopefully you as well. Just get your own blog and talk about it. I have to go, I have touch football at lunchtime tomorrow.

***update: For anyone wondering about the touch football. It was a gripping triple overtime game. Eventually my team lost, and at the moment I have soreness in body parts I didn't even know existed. Go tigers.

It seems to me (part 4)

2007-11-23T17:05:00.000-08:00

So here we are, nearly back to the present day. The final chapter in this retrospective. What happened in the last 7 years? Let's go find out.

Before we begin it would do us all well to remember December 31 1999. Do we all remember it? For the preceding several months we heard with increasing frequency and severity about Y2K. Apparently all of the computers were going to stop working. Planes were going to fall from the sky, power grids would cease to work, and your computer's calender would be completely screwed. The religious groups warned us about the final days, survivalists stocked up on supplies, and I'm pretty sure a white buffalo had been born in Hopi country. Everyone tensed up a bit. I mean I could happen, it made some sense. The experts diagnosed the problem, calculated it's effects and warned us. They repeatedly warned us. Over and over. Nothing would be the same. Our world was coming to an end. So whatever plans you had needed to be on place before armageddon began. And then the clock ticked and the countdown began. 11:59 and 50 seconds. 10...9...8...7...6...5....11:59 and 55 seconds. 4...3...2...11:59 and 59 seconds.........1..........

2000- Still here? Yeah, not a damn thing happened. The computers worked There were no trumpets, no angel hordes. Not even an antichrist. What a gyp. All we had were a bunch of "experts" sitting around saying, "um....err.....well...." Y2K my ass.

What did happen in 2000? Let's look back. AOl merged with Time Warner. Apparently Time Warner was looking for a delivery mechanism for millions of cd's. "How will we ever manage to distribute disks to millions and millions of uninterested customers? Oh, look these AOL guys have it figured out." Also that year Elian Gonzalez went home. Remember him? I'm certain that at some point Elian's mother looked down upon him and said, "my plan to make my child a politically exploited poster boy for the dysfunctional state of American politics and leftover communist paranoia is going exactly as planned." This year Microsoft released the windows Millennium Edition, or "Me" as it came to be known. Frankly if I worked as poorly as "Me" worked I would have smothered myself as a child. To this day it boggles the mind. It's like the executives at Microsoft took one group of guys to make Windows 2000, a really good system if there ever was one, and had whoever was left get to work on "ME." I pictured a room full of janitors and marketing people witting around saying, "seriously does any one here know how to program? Like even a little bit?" In political news, Al Gore and G.W. Bush squared off in what would become the closest election that anyone could ever remember. Bush was playing the genial, every guy sort of character, while Gore was impersonating a really, really, really boring kind of human android. It was basically the smart guy vs. the buddy from down the street. The election was so close that for a while no one knew who was the president. And after all the nonsense when the supreme court awarded Bush the job, we still didn't know who was the president. I mean, seriously we elected this guy? Has anyone been paying attention? He can't speak for god's sake. Gore may have sounded like Microsoft Sam, but he at least had the benefit of a complete vocabulary. What a way to start a millennium.

2001- There really is only one thing that will ever be remembered from 2001. For the first time since JFK was killed in 1963, the world had a "you know where you were moment." I was on my way to work. I heard something on the radio, but I couldn't make sense of it. Planes, New York, explosion. By the time I got in I heard more than I ever could have wanted. Like every one else I felt dumbfounded. No one knew what to say. Every T.V. and radio was delivering the same incomprehensible message. It was all too much too bear. Later my ex-wife cried, my sister asked how she would ever explain this to her children, and I couldn't think of a wise crack to make anything better. We were told that the terrorists hated our freedom. We were told it was because gays and feminists made god angry. We were told that America finally got what it deserved. All of it was bullshit. The terrorists did not look at our computers and cars and "freedoms" and decide to kill us. Gays and feminists did not cause God to lift his "veil of protection." And no one anywhere deserved anything like this. The truth of the matter is that the world is complicated. As a country we involve ourselves in certain areas in the world. In some places we promote peace, in some places we promote war. We have made allies, and we have made enemies. On that day one of our enemies did something that most would have thought impossible. They murdered 3000 of us with a few of our own airplanes. Their plan was simple, direct, and horribly effective. The only solace was that it could have been worse. It's hard to believe that sometimes, but it could have. One day in a year can radically alter the course of history. That was the one day. Everything changed, and it hasn't stopped since.

2002- In response to the 9-11 attacks, the U.S invades Afghanistan. Even anti war people like myself would have to say that this was logical. We knew they were there, we knew they would have to be stopped and when someone hits you, sometimes you just have to hit back. We also invaded Iraq. The Iraq invasion was a lot like the Afghanistan one, except it lacked any sort of rationale, justification or hint of any common sense. Imagine two plans of action, where the first was made by intelligent people who thought the problem through, made calculated decisions, and then did what they thought was appropriate. Then think of the second plan as being made by monkeys. Not the smart ones that learn sign language, but the dumb ones who you see on youtube drinking their own pee. That what this was like. I'd explain further but I have a few keywords in here which already have this blog running through the review process at the ol' CIA. Hopefully something good will happen in.....

2003- Ohio State beats Miami for the college football national championship. This is a mixed bag. I think we all can agree that it's fun to see Miami lose, but it also sucks when a big 10 team wins. Meanwhile Michael Jackson is arrested for the first time on child molestation charges. Wow, talk about stating the obvious. Who didn't see this coming? Remember when he gave all of that money to that family who's son slept at his house? He claimed it was to keep the story from getting out and harming his reputation. The problem is, he gave the money after the story came out. Mike, hush money is to make people hush. That's why it is called that. You don't pay after they talk, you do it before. That's like buying a car and the dealer saying it's $15,000 and you counter offer with $30,000. It's just bad business.

2004- Gays briefly get the right to marry in San Francisco. I say good for them. Anyone in this world who is willing to commit themselves to another person deserves a chance. Besides why should we deny gays the opportunity to be as miserable as the rest of us? In entertainment news, Lord of the Rings, Return of the King wins every award at the Oscars. Some awful reporter lady who was covering the Oscars was asked what was the worst movie she saw that year. She responded, "um...like I don't know, probably Lord of the Rings." I never, ever wanted someone to get throat cancer so badly. In politics, the democrats sought a new strategy for the upcoming elections. Realizing their mistake from the previous election, the democrats looked for a candidate with a likable personality to counter Bush's friendly, genial persona. Considering Bush's sinking approval ratings to seemed to be an easy task. At a certain point opinion polls showed that that Americans would have been willing to trade Bush for "just about any other living creature." I'm not saying a hamster could do better, I'm just saying that it wouldn't do any worse. So logically the democrats choose not to nominate Howard Dean who on a personality scale of 1-10 goes to 11. Instead they chose....oh man.....I almost can't write this....J...J....John Kerry. There I said it. John Kerry was a lot like Gore except that he lacked the intelligence and charisma,. And when you say someone lacks Gore's charisma, what you are saying is that this person might be comatose, or possibly carved out of wood. What Kerry lacked in personality he made up for in open mindedness. He had the unique ability to change opinions in an instant depending who he was talking to. Belive me it takes a real pandering ass to make Bush's dogmatic stubbornness seem like a virtue. Honestly, I have socks who could have defeated Bush in an election. But alas Kerry lost and Bush remained in office despite some of the lowest approval ratings in history. Reportedly the Democrats are planning to nominate an ill tempered cadaver in the next election. Should be close again.

2005-Pope John Paul II dies. As I have said before he was a cuddly Pope. In a shrewd move the Catholics select a vampire to replace him. No really, Pope Benedict comes in. He creeps the hell out of me. I'm not Catholic so it doesn't really matter to me, but I'm just saying, one of these days he is accidentally going to touch the holy water and burst into flames. Despite the danger of oversimplifying, I will make a blanket statement here. Our government sucked it up for the this entire year. War-sucked, Scandals-sucked Katrina-mega sucked. Let's move on.

2006-If you thought government sucked before just wait. Dick Cheney, the vice president of the U.S. shoots his friend in the face while hunting. Actually I'm not sure it's called hunting if the animals are tied down to make them easier to hit. Cheney's friend later apologizes. Collectively the country laughed for a week about this. No one can think of any scenario where after accidentally shooting a friend in the face they apologize to you. In other news Warren Buffet, on of the richest people in the world donated over 30 billion dollars to the foundation of Bill Gates, who is the richest man in the world. Did this give you a warm, fuzzy feeling inside? It gave me one.

2007- Holy cow this is it! We are almost back to the present. I won't take a lot of time on this one, but some interesting things did happen. Nancy Pelosi becomes the first female speaker of the house of representatives. We all felt great, until approval ratings for the house dropped to record lows. I'm not saying it's all her fault or anything, but Nancy, kick some ass or something. Seriously, if you are ranked lower than our president you almost don't qualify as a human anymore. Nancy, I have met dogs who could go higher than 19%. Microsoft also released Vista this year. For the first time ever Microsoft's launch of a new O.S. is greeted with a chorus of "who gives a shit." In literature J.K. Rowling releases the final Harry Potter novel. Later she goes on the reveal that Dumbledore is gay. Frankly I never gave much thought to the sex lives of characters from children's books. However, now that I think of it, the Hardy Boys were a little too close in my book. And finally the Writer's Guild of America goes on strike. I'll cross my fingers for them. For a guy who writes a lot and doesn't get paid for it, I'd like to think that at least someone is making a few bucks. As long as eventually we see some new t.v. shows I'm not too worried.

So that's it. 1973-2007. 34 years of stuff. It seems like only yesterday we all were so small. Maybe we didn't pay attention back then, but who could blame us, we were just kids. Now we are adults, some of us more than others. Well keep checking back. Sometime in the next 34 years you can expect another of these. I'm going to sleep. Later y'all.

It seems to me (part2)

2007-11-22T17:14:00.000-08:00

Ok, the 70's are behind us so it's time to move forward. Well at least not as far backward anyway. The best place to begin is...

1980- Let's see, the U.S hockey team beat the Soviet national team in the winter Olympics. In an effort to maintain the euphoric joy that came from such an improbable victory,president Jimmy Carter decides to boycott the summer Olympics. In official public opinion polls, Carter's status is downgraded from "ineffective" to "asshole." Later that year John Lennon is killed outside his apartment in New York. I wish we had just skipped '80 and went right to...

1981- This year started with the inauguration of Ronald Reagan. It should be noted that we did not boycott a single Olympic games during his 8 years. This year was also the launching point for MTV. Scientists have noted an alarming drop in SAT scores which coincided with the first broadcast. Also in a brilliant piece of cold war strategy, Russia is convinced to implement daylight savings time. I'm not suggesting that this led to their eventual collapse, I'm just saying. In a landmark episode of the apprentice Ronald Reagan fires nearly 12,000 striking air traffic controllers. The catchphrase "well....you're fired," sweeps the nation.

1982- The first Rubik's cube championship is held in Budapest. It was described as Hungary's largest nerd gathering since the great '81 dungeons and dragons-athon in Veszprem. In Germany, Helmut Kohl replaces Helmut Schmidt as Chancellor. Not to be outdone in the silly name department Yuri Andropov comes into power in Russia. This of course led to an endless series of jokes in the U.S. "Hey Yuri, why don't you go to the edge of a cliff....and drop off!" Don't worry, it wasn't funny then either.

1983- The last episode of M*A*S*H airs on CBS. Pretty much every person in the country was watching. According to New York City officials. The minute the show ended, the water pressure in New York decreased by the equivalent of one million toilets flushing simultaneously. That my friends is the power of television. Speaking of things on tv. The infamous pine tar game with George Brett takes place in Yankee stadium. If you didn't see it, basically George Brett got a home run disqualified for having too much pine tar on his bat. In the words of Yankee's announcers he went, "bat shit crazy."

1984- The first Apple Macintoshes are released. This allowed millions of school kids to accurately recreate one of Americas legendary happenings by playing "Oregon Trail" during study hall. This was also the year Michael Jackson got set on fire while filming a Pepsi commercial. In pop culture news two landmark things happened this year. The first was a movie version of George Orwell's dystopian novel 1984 was released. The second...the Transformers cartoon debuts.

1985- "We are the World" is recorded. In a personal note my brother and I giggled every time we heard it because we were positive that Bob Dylan's lines were sung by Buckwheat. Seriously go listen to it again. The sporting world saw the arrival of two savage and infinitely entertaining spectacles. Wrestlemania and Mike Tyson. And from the WTF file came perhaps the most bizarre story ever. Ronald Reagan attended a funeral service in Germany with Helmut Kohl for 59 elite SS troops. That's right, Nazis. Most Americans ignored this , as the Coca-Cola company had inexplicably changed their formula to "New Coke." I always secretly thought that there was something fishy about the whole new coke thing. Now I know..government coverup.

1986-The U.S. almost unanimously (up yours Arizona!) observes the first Martin Luther King day. In NASA news, the space shuttle Challenger explodes on takeoff. I remember this vividly. As I sat in the lunchroom a friend told me how it blew up as his class watched it. I said, and this is a direct quote here, "yeah, that would be funny." He informed me he wasn't kidding, and I felt really, really reaaaaaaalllly bad. The godless communists that year launched the Mir space station. To this day, it has not blown up. Also one of the greatest moments in television history happened. Geraldo Rivera opened Al Capone's hidden vault on live television. Millions of viewers watched in breathless silence as the vault was found to contain...absolutely nothing. This led an embarassed Rivera to say to his audience..."Um.....err.....ahhh....sorry everybody."

1987-This year saw the first appearance of the Simpsons on the Tracey Ullman show. Speaking of landmark television. Bud Dwyer a legislator from Pennsylvania called a press conference to respond to allegations of serious misconduct while in office. During his televised broadcast he pulled a gun from a bag and shot himself in front of the assembled crowd of family, friends and media. Remember that Filter song, "Hey man nice shot?" Well that's what that song was about, You see, you learn something new everyday. In lighter news, the World Wrestling Federation's Iron Sheik and Hacksaw Jim Dugan, bitter enemies in the ring, were arrested together in a car for marijuana possession. The "is wrestling real or fake" debate opens again with many hardcore fans claiming that they were both framed.

1988-The surgeon general C. Everett Koop declares that cigarettes are addictive. Koop went on to state that "water is wet and shit stinks." In Chicago the Cubs play their first ever night game at Wrigley field. A team spokesman explained that the decision would allow for a 50% increase in available time to disappoint Cubs fans in. In health news Phillip Morris buys Kraft foods for 13 billion dollars. Surgeon General C. Everett Koop immediately issues a report claiming that Velveeta is "not really cheese."

1989-A few years after standing trial for war crimes, alleged Nazi Kurt Waldheim is elected president of Austria. The unofficial slogan "Never again," referring to the holocaust was replaced with the new phrase, "Ahh, what the hell, he seems ok." Speaking of the wacky Germans Zsa Zsa Gabor (not the one from Green Acres) was arrested for slapping a Beverly Hills police officer. And to round out the German theme of that year, ecstatic Germans begin to tear down chunks of the Berlin Wall. World leaders fear that a reunited Germany would not only feature a very formidable army, but an Olympic team that would be, "pretty sweet ass."

That's the 80's people. I would continue on but I am sleepy from turkey. We proceed to the 90's tomorrow. Happy Thanksgiving everybody.

It seems to me (part 3)

2007-11-22T17:07:00.000-08:00

So on into the 90's. Left behind are all thoughts of Duran Duran, day-glo clothing, Miami vice and rampant consumerism. Well, actually all of those things were still around, but they weren't cool any more. At least they weren't cool until the 2000's but I'm getting ahead of myself. What would the 90's be without.....

1990- What happened this year? What didn't happen? As if exporting daylight savings time wasn't enough, we also sent Mcdonalds to Russia. Any coincidence that the Empire fell a few months later? And speaking of how the mighty fell, Mike Tyson was defeated by Buster Douglas. Douglas went on to hold the title for about 3 minutes. Things went downhill rapidly for Mike. NASA finally gets it going again when the space shuttle discovery launches the hubbel telescope. To date neither has exploded. Probably the most significant event of this year was a bit personal for me. Yes people I entered into the umm..."adult" phase of my life. It kind of went like this.

"Do you want to?"
"Um,,,,do you want to?"
"Well....I guess. You know if you want to."
"I do...um....like if you really want to."
"Ok, so um....do I like start or..."
"I think.....um.......no that's not right."
"Yeah....um....give me a second..."
"Oh shit my mom's home!"

So I left relatively quickly, like only a horny dork driving his mom's car can do. It wasn't the most magnificent way to start out, but trust me, I have done it since then.

1991- Operation desert storm kicks off the first gulf war. American forces have a relatively easy time getting Iraq out of Kuwait and back to their own country. President Bush remarks, "only a real idiot could screw up an invasion in Iraq." In sports The Buffalo Bills lost for the second straight year in the super bowl. Check back in 93 to see how they did in the next two. There also was some weird sex news this year. Jeffrey Dahmer was arrested for assaulting young boys, then killing and eating them, Pee wee Herman was arrested for exposing himself in an adult theater, Supreme court Justice Clarence Thomas testified about his discussions with Anita Hill about Long Dong Silver, and Magic Johnson revealed that he had HIV. I was afraid to even go near girls this year.

1992- The officers in the infamous Rodney King beating are acquitted. Nothing much happened after that and everyone went about their normal business. No, just kidding. L.A. went ape shit. We also had one of the more entertaining elections ever that year. Bush 1, Bill Clinton, and the unintentionally funny Ross Perot duked it out, with Clinton eventually winning by a sizable margin. Man I miss Ross Perot. That goofy bastard made me smile.

1993- Apparently, due to a calender mishap, the state of Washington executes a prisoner by hanging. When questioned, the governor of Washington noted that the guillotine was being repaired, and it was too rainy to burn any one at the stake. The World Trade center is the target of a terrorist attack. A bomb explodes killing 6 and injuring more than 1000. Hopefully we will watch out for that sort of thing in the future. In other tragic news both Audrey Hepburn and Andre the Giant died this year. Two of my favorite people. I guess I would like to move on to.....

1994- Holy moley did a lot of stuff happen in 1994. OJ killed his wife and her friend, ran from the cops, threatened to kill himself, and then went on trial for around 1000 years. As of writing this OJ is back in court for carrying out an armed raid to recover some sports memorabilia. No word on whether or not F. Lee Bailey is handling the defense this time. To paraphrase Johnny Cochran. "Give me back the ball, or else I'll shoot you all." Tragically John Candy and Kurt Cobain both died this year. This year was all about people dying early and other ridiculous stuff. I think it's time for....

1995- Honestly I don't remember much of 95. Something must have happened. Oh yeah, the Oklahoma City bombing. Jeez what a thing to forget. Timothy Mcveigh and the equally delightful Terry Nichols blow up the Federal building in Oklahoma City. Mcveigh eventually was executed and Nichols is still the Queen of the weight room ball in Florence Colorado. Did anything good happen in 95? Oh yeah, Cal Ripken broke Lou Gehrig's streak for consecutive games played. Come on, that was cool but there had to be something else. Screw it..

1996- French President Jaques Chirac declares that the French will out an end to Nuclear testing. Am I wrong here or wasn't the name of the bad guy in that Bugs Bunny cartoon about the gold mining camp named Jaques Chirac? I think it's great that our World leaders are named after cartoon villans. I we can get a Russian premier named Boris Badinoff I will die a happy man. Someone get to work on this. The computers inch closer to world domination when IBM's deep blue beats Russian grand master Gary Kasparov in a match. As of this writing Kasparov is running for Premier in Russia. you can't make this stuff up. In our election Clinton wins again defeating the surprisingly funny Bob Dole. Dole later does commercials for Viagra. And they said Clinton was the one with the sexual problems.

1997- The phenomenon known as the Phoenix Lights occurs. Thousands of residents see strange lights in the sky over a range of about 300 miles. A notable spectator is Arizona Governor Fife Symington. In addition to being a a respected governor his name can also be rearranged to spell "Ego Sniff Minty." I think that speaks for itself. In other unexplainable news the California cult "Heavens Gate" led by Marshall Applewhite committed a mass suicide in an effort to leave the planet. Well.....mission accomplished. The group believed that they would board a space ship that was hiding behind the Hale-Bop comet. Astronomers have dubbed this the "are you f'ing kidding me theory."

1998- President Clinton find himself answering questions about his relationships with Paula Jones, Monica Lewinsky, and 7 or 8 members of the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. Of course this scandal blows over and we all forget about it. Whoops, I was lying again. This went on for a long, long, long time. In other news Apple released the Imac. This of course led to a million commercials where smug Apple fans gushed about how great their computers were despite the fact that they looked like they were manufactured by fisher price.

1999- This was a year which really made you start to believe that maybe the world really was coming to an end. Amadou Diallo, James Bryd, and Matthew Sheppard, and Scott Amedure are are killed by either hate crimes or police misconduct. The Columbine massacre happens, there were a bunch of earthquakes, George Harrison narrowly avoids becoming the second murdered Beatle and the y2k paranoia was really heating up. Fortunately some good things happened as well. Spongebob debuted, "The Last Supper" by Davinci is displayed after 22 years of restoration, Sega launches the Dreamcast, and Stanley Kubrick gets one more film done before he dies. Plus we all heard Prince's song 1999 about a million times.

So that's the 90's. A decade full of grunge rock, social change and much better fashion. The 2000's are up next. A lot of stuff happened I hope you were paying attention.

It seems to me, I live my life like 34 candles in the wind.

2007-11-20T17:15:00.000-08:00

Hi everybody! Just to get things out of the way, it is my birthday. I'm 29 again, lol!!!!! I thought what I would do is take a look, a retrospective if you will, of the fun fun and important events that have taken place in my brief lifetime. For you clever trousers out there (Amy and Kelly) who will invariably remind me of the great times Groucho and I had living it up in the 30's, this is especially for you.

In the fall of 73' I left what seemed to be a warm and safe place to enter the world we all live in. My introduction to this place was a bit awkward. I spent a few minutes with my mother and was then whisked off to have some blood taken and a obligatory circumcision. I'm not saying that circumcision is a bad thing, but I couldn't walk for a year afterwards. Coincidence? You tell me.

People were tougher in those days however. I learned to walk, swollen unit and all, talk, and eventually type . So things, as they say, were all good in the Jay camp. Here are a few things that happened in the period between November 1973 and 10 minutes ago.

1973- A cease fire was enacted in Vietnam. The world trade center goes up, and Pablo Picasso dies. Well two out of three ain't bad. We got out of a ridiculous mistake, we built the world's tallest building, and we lost an iconic artist. Not a bad year to get your feet wet.

1974- Nixon resigns in disgrace and Dr. Henry Heimlich invents his famous manoeuvre. One allows us to remove a disgusting harmful obstruction that harms our very survival, while the other has something to do with choking.

1975- Microsoft is formed by a 22 year old Paul Allen and a 19 year old Bill Gates, thus paving the way for some serious swearing at my computer32 years later.

1976- In China Zhao Enlai and Mao Zedong both die, and in the us the Supreme court rules the death penalty constitutional. So the struggle for civil rights in China heats up, while the U.S completely abandons the concept. On the good side Arthur Haley writes Roots, leading the way for Levar Burton (Reading Rainbow, Jordy from Star Trek) and John Amos (the dad from Good Times) to both play Kunta Kinte. Plus Stallone wins with Rocky as best picture. Some years are weird.

1977- Elvis, Charlie Chaplin and Bing Crosby all die. Which leads to the obvious question, "Why didn't we get them all into one movie?" Some road movie with some great physical comedy and awkward musical numbers. Speaking of movies, Woody Allen wins best picture for Annie Hall. This really was the right time for me to be becoming more aware of the world.

1978- This was a turbulent year. First there were riots in Iran against the Shah. Then there was a coup in Afghanistan. Also Yemen, Syria, and Israel were all up tho various things. Then the Soviets blew up a Korean airliner with fighter jets.
To balance it out however, Ron Popeil introduced Mr. Microphone. If you don't remember this, it was a box that let you broadcast your voice over any FM radio. Who could forget the line from the commercial where the frizzy headed lad exclaims to the guy walking down the street, "Hey good looking! We'll be back to pick you up later!" In '78 that line was cool, in contrast to today when that line would make you the world's biggest dipshit.

1979- Greatest year of the decade or greatest year ever? You decide. Both the Jerk and Trivial Pursuit came out this year. Plus the walkman, Village People, Alien, and Mad Max were around. Yeah this was one of the good ones.

Enough for today. Tomorrow we tackle the 80's and beyond. Plus an in depth analysis why 1990 was so important. Are ya with me? I knew that you were.

Investigative reporting and analysis

2007-11-11T17:33:00.000-08:00

I'd like to talk a bit about a hot button issue for a lot of you. I know, usually I am partial to the lighter side of things. But tonight I would like to examine something important that relates to all of us. I promise to take an unbiased non-parteesian stance on this issue in the hopes that I might enlighten and inform all of us.
You might have heard the news reports lately about the record high price for oil. Lately the price for a barrel has crept to over $100 a barrel. Krikey that's a lot! Presumably we would expect the price of gas to sky rocket. And let me just tell you that...no it didn't. Gas remained surprisingly stable. In the last few days it did go up a bit, but we didn't see the quick jump that we all would expect. And why wouldn't we expect it? Seemingly everything makes the price of gas go up. We are always seeing headlines like

"High demand fuels price surge" or
"Tanker spill causes pain at pump" or
"New planet discovered leads to oil hike"

Nothing seems to make the price go down. Just once I want to read.

"Reduction in costs leads to oil company reduction" or
"Common sense leads to consumer relief"

But since gas didn't shoot up, I will have to talk about the other commodity that did. Milk.

Milk is, to use a scientific measurement, balls expensive. At the present time gas is about $2.89 here while milk is well over $3.00 a gallon. I know what you are saying. "But Jay, you can't really compare the two. One involves a labor intensive method of extracting a resource from the ground, painstakingly subjecting it to a complex process where it is refined into a product using extremely expensive machinery and then shipped thousands of miles where another complex and expensive delivery and storage system waits to eventually deliver it to the consumer. Whereas the other involves hooking a hose to a cow."

Yes I know, it's really apples to oranges here, but an investigative mind like mine has to delve into these things.

For those of you in oil states, (hi Texas!) this doesn't make much sense. If you live in equal proximity to an oil well and a cow heavy area it would seem to follow that prices might be similar. For the rest of us in oil free and cow intensive areas (hi everyone else!) it just doesn't add up. Trust me here people. I have lived in three states in my life. Iowa, Nebraska and Missouri. As of last year there were a combined 10.58 million people in these three states. The number of cows? 11.46 million. Now it doesn't take a scientist to realize that the cows outnumber us. In fact, do a little experiment with me know. Come on, it'll be fun!

1.Go outside
2. Find a cow

I bet that didn't take longer than 10 minutes. Now see if you can find an oil well. (Not you Texas) See? Were cow heavy here. Somehow recently our time honored tradition of squeezing that goodness out into a bucket has broken down. Don't start with that whole, but what about pasteurization stuff with me either. I don't need any of it. Hell I don't even need a jug. I would squeeze enough for breakfast directly from the cow if it would save a few bucks. Wait, that gives me an idea.

Let's say I wanted to buy a cow. If I started with a small one I would be looking at around $1000. Sure a big established one might be as high as $2000 but I am willing to start slow. Now I have access to grass so it's food is out of the way. Compare that with milk prices. 3 dollars times 365 days. Thats $1095 in the first year alone! My $1000 investment has already saved my $95 dollars. Conceivably I could get way more than a gallon out of a cow in a day. So you know what I'm thinking? Two words. Surplus milk. Really, I love milk. Even I can't gulp down more than a few gallons a day though. So what do I do? Sell it to the Bosnians of course. My neighbors would go nuts for fresh milk. Even if they don't pay much, I still am way ahead. And they totally wouldn't turn me down. Hell, I am pretty sure I heard live chickens in there the other day, you think they are going to balk at some non pasteurized milk? Why didn't I think of this before?

It’s herd behavior, uh huh, it’s evolution baby

2007-10-29T17:35:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody I thought I'd raise the tone by talking about science today. Once in a while I find some scientific research that really is grounbreaking . It's good to know that dedicated individuals are actively decoding the complex beast that is the human being. I consider myself a pretty astute observer of the human scene, but their are two differences between me and most scientists.

1. They got a scientific degree and do various types of research.

2. I got a marketing degree and I hate marketing

Bearing that in mind I thought I would share with you a couple of recent scientific discoveries that should be enlightening and helpful to us all.

The first is from Indiana University scientist Peter Todd. He, and some colleagues, have determined that when it comes to selecting a mate, despite what they may say, men choose largely dependent on looks. Frankly I'm shocked. You just see so many good looking women around who are totally ignored by men. It's sad really. These ladies are usually destined for a life of loneliness, sitting home alone until they grow old and retire to the local senior center which is chock full of sexy elderly women. Their counterparts however die early from the sheer exhaustion brought on by fending off the advances of men and the copious amounts of sex.

But research is research, and we have the data to consider here. Todd compared what men said they wanted against what type of women they chose in dating sessions. What he found was that even when men expressed desires for traits other than physical attractiveness, who they ultimately chose was based up appearance. In other words, men are full of shit. I believe it, I am a man and I have been full of shit before. As guys we really do put up with more if we perceive a partner to be attractive. Case in point Brittany Spears. How many guys still would love to get with that crazy broad? Yeah she isn't really that talented or mentally stable. She also seems dumb as a sack of hammers, but did you see that picture of her with the snake? Yee-haa sign me up!

Now as far as women go I will give them some credit here. Todd's research found that women are more choosy. They tend to select men based upon material wealth, security and commitment. This makes sense as well. Jay-Z is an ugly fella. Just a horse faced guy with from what I can tell is a small amount of musical talent. Yet he has Beyonce. Maybe music isn't the best field to pick examples from. I think scientists are still trying to figure out how this works. Billy Joel and Christie Brinkley, Lyle Lovett and Julia Roberts, Bob Dylan and anybody. Maybe we'll just move on.

Women, like men, have a discrepancy between what they say they want and what they choose. And like men, women will put up with a lot more from men who have it. According to the data, money and security are the most important things. This really could explain some stuff. Now it all makes sense. Rich guys tend to be surrounded by women. Wow, I always wondered why I am poor and lonely. Now science had clued me in. Apparently I need a second job.

The second article I have found is even more shocking than the first. It comes from renowned evolutionary theorist Oliver Curry of the London School of Economics.What he proposes is pretty mind blowing. Curry feels that by the year 3000 humans will have split into two distinct groups. Bear with me here, this is in- depth science. Curry feels that the next 1000 years, or approximately 50 generations of people, current mating practices will produce a race of haves and a race of have-nots. In a nutshell the most successful in society will tend to choose mates who are also the most successful. This of course leaves the less successful to take what they can get. This sounds crazy until you go to a bar and see it in action. Curry predicts that men in the upper class will be larger, stronger, smarter, and, (I knew it) will have larger penises. I can't argue with science but I always had hoped that women were sincere when they said size didn't matter. Not that they say it to me but I meant for my lesser endowed colleagues. (Whew, did I cover that well enough?)

Women on the other hand will have lighter, smoother, hairless skin, large eyes and pert breasts. Their hair will be glossy and their features even. So ladies if you have these things now, the men of 3000 would really like to meet you.

Additionally , the theory states that racially differences will be a thing of the past. Interbreeding will produce a brown skin tone. I do not have any information about what the have-not's skin will look like. I presume less brown, blotchy, pasty, or some other characteristic that most of us have today.

So there you go. Science people. It boils down to our basic animal instincts. Regardless of what we may think, on some basic level we want what we want and that is going to drive our actions. I love research like this. I should have been a scientist. Wouldn't it be great to go to your boss and say, "Hey I am doing some research about what people find attractive. I am going to need to get a lot of pictures of attractive people doing various sexy things and see which turns me on the most. I am going to need a fast internet connection and some serious privacy."

I like to think that I am a bit more cerebral when it comes to dating. Hopefully my mind is more in control than my hormones or instincts. But science is telling me otherwise. And I guess that is true. The women I have dated recently have been attractive, smooth skinned, pert breasted, big eyed, relatively hairless creatures.

In an effort to match what I say I want with what I really want, I will describe my ideal dating experience.

I see her walking into a quiet bar. She is putting her mensa acceptence letter back into her purse. She accidentally knocks loose a movie ticket which falls to the ground. It's for a Monty Python film festival she is going to later. I walk up to her. I notice that she is just a little bit shorter than me. I bend over and get her ticket. She comments that she really likes thoughtful men and does not view my old fashioned chivalry as any sort of slight on her capabilities as a woman. We agree to share a guinness and discuss important matters of the day. When she asks what is in my notebook, I show her my various humorous writings and she genuinely finds them witty. She tells me how much she loves Christopher Guest, Oscar Wilde and Wes Anderson. I ask her about Mike Royko and Todd Snider and her eyes light up. "Men who speak the truth and make me laugh are amazing," she says. Suddenly her cell phone rings. She recognizes the number from a charity she gives her time to that helps children or the downtrodden. We talk for a while, agreeing mostly, but not entirely. She feels that having different viewpoints is integral . We decide to leave together to get something to eat. We settle on a place where you can get breakfast cereal anytime of the day. I get frosted flakes and she gets lucky charms. We talk about the old days when we watched saturday morning cartoons and ran carefree in the backyard. I mention the Beatles and she tells me how Hey Jude was her first favorite, but that in later years Strawberry Fields really moves her. She seems intent on being her own person deciding for herself what she wants and needs in her life. She doesn't let anyone tell her what to do, and fads and trends are beyond her. When she smiles she means it and she is not shy about telling me her opinion. She comments that yelling and screaming in a relationship are troubling signs and feels that a relationship should make your life better, never worse. She isn't worried about how much she weighs, what other people think of her, or what clothes she needs to be wearing. We talk about visiting places together to experience things with another. She seems happy to be with a quirky semi artistic guy. We laugh for hours and forget about the time. We agree to see each other again and talk about whatever hits our minds. I tell her that Woody Allen has made some of the funniest movies of all time, she tells me that Kubrick at times is funnier by miles. She tells me that she always wants honesty even when it hurts and I tell her that trust is the most important thing. She kisses me in front of a crowd of people and really seems happy to have me as part of her life. We each walk away knowing that our lives are a little better than before we had met.

So there it is. That's really pretty simple. My biology says pick the best looking one, but I think for right now I will look for other things first. Maybe if I'm single in 3000 things will be different.

http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/81392.php

http://www.rediff.com/news/2007/oct/26human.htm

Where you from, you sexy thing?

2007-10-26T17:37:00.000-07:00

I am working out the details of my halloween costume. Kelly brought me a few items that I have been trying on. I have discovered something about myself. I'm not sure I am made for dress wearing. Now don't get me wrong, the standard sexy black dress looks pretty good on me, but I don't think I am going to get in the habit of wearing dresses all the time. It's fairly obvious to me why dresses have been traditionally worn by women instead of men. A lot of fashion seems a bit arbitrary. Pink for girls, blue for boys doesn't have any real basis to it. Makeup is used by men in other cultures. Earrings and other pieces of jewelery are fairly universal as well. But the dress suits women better than men. I'm not by any means saying that women aren't suited well for other types of clothes. By all means if you want to, wear suits, pants or whatever you like. It's just that men don't pull off the dress look like women can. I'm not talking about kilts either. That's a separate issue altogether. You'll have to ask the Scottish about that one. There are a few reasons why I personally, and probably other men as well, don't work in dresses.

1. You know how women have that sexy bare neck thing? You know when they are wearing something where the upper part of the body is exposed. I don't have that. I have man neck which doesn't really do much for anyone. Women's necks are inviting and soft whereas man neck is stubbly and generally unappealing. Strike One.

2. My legs are hairy. I don't usually give this much thought, but right now it's a problem. Women usually shave their legs, and even when they don't, a bit of stubble never hurt anyone. I have normal manly hair leg going on, and these gams poking out from under a dress looks a little odd. There is a sleekness to women's legs most of the time. I'm not getting a sleek feeling here. I feel like I could rub a balloon on my calves and then stick it on the wall. Strike two.

3. I'm not proportioned correctly. Not to get too crude here, but all of us can use our imagination. The upper area on women usually contains something I don't have, and the lower area on me contains something that women don't have. Does this make sense to everyone? The dress I'm wearing is just tight enough that my differences from the female form are a little too noticeable. Basically, I'm not filling out the top, and overfilling the bottom. Strike three.

Oh well, halloween only comes once a year, so I think I can stand to look a little ridiculous. I have a lot to learn. I haven't even started to talk about shoes, or sitting without exposing things. It looks like I will have to learn this on the fly. I will say that I have a newfound respect for you ladies out there. I guess I have a newfound respect for you cross dressing men out there as well. Certainly in the name of fashion you put a lot more effort and sacrifice into it than we men do. Hats off to ya. I need to go and figure out how to get this damn thing off. And before you ask, of course there will be pictures. Happy Haloween everybody.

Domo Arigato, Mr. and Mrs. Roboto

2007-10-23T19:22:00.000-07:00

I was thinking earlier, and if you know me personally you may have heard this before, but It really seems that the robots have won. Not only have they won, but they succeeded in the most unthinkable way possible. They made us not only welcome their victory, but made us join their ranks.

It used to be that people would ponder if a person could get through an entire day or week without significant human interaction. Today that is not only possible, but it is the preferred method.

Think about it. Wake up, check your bank balance, telecommute, pay your bills, send a fax, check the news, get a movie from netflix or on demand, do some shopping, work through some automated phone menu, and get whatever information you might need all without leaving your house. And if you do leave you will be sure to have your ipod on, which precludes any interaction with others. Convenient eh? Stop and think, that's one day where you did not interact with any other human being. Even the online activities didn't involve a human. A computer takes your order, displays your information, calculates the sales tax on your purchase, and provides you with your entertainment. All of a sudden everything we relied on humans for is handled by machines.

It doesn't stop there. Most of us go into work somewhere. A large percentage of us pile into a cubicle or office where we handle tasks (usually involving a computer) until our time is up. It is easy to not speak to another for an entire day, even though we might be mere feet away. Then we drive home, stopping for gas but making sure to pay at the pump. We use the self checkout at the grocery store so we don't have to wait for an actual person to help us, and then we walk in a straight line to our house where we lock ourselves in and stare at one screen or another until we go to sleep and the start the process anew.

Who saw this coming? Personally I like dealing with people. Actually, that might be a bit strong. I like the idea of dealing with people. Sure it's a pain to listen to someone spout off about their problems, but is it that much of an inconvenience?

I think it all started with drive through windows. Way back when, you actually had to get out of your car and walk inside a place to get food. Then all of a sudden that was too much effort. So we put in little windows where you don't actually have to be near a person to get what you are after. Whether it's food, a prescription or doing some banking, you don't have to get anywhere near a human to take care of your business. It used to save time, but now if you look inside the places are empty but there is a line around the block for the convenient drive up. That's progress my friends!

Not to get too science fiction on anyone, but isn't life imitating everything we have seen in the movies? Look at the Matrix. It would seem that the lesson was that as people we are so wrapped up in our own little world that we wouldn't even notice if we were enslaved by machines as long as we had our own distractions. Look at your cubicle the next time you go to work. Then check the back of your neck. Seriously, make sure that there isn't a tube running out of it.

And now take A.I. Ladies tell me that if there were Jude Law looking androids around to take care of certain boyfriend needs without being slobby, insensitive and generally manish that you wouldn't be interested. Believe me, I have seen Blade Runner. If the replicants looked like Sean Young and were there to "interact" without the pressures and stresses of having a real girlfriend you think I would pass that up. Of course we wouldn't.

But I know what you are saying. Jay, we are nothing like robots. Robots just do their work based on specific instructions, not venturing outside their programmed paths, or noticing the outside world. They do not question their tasks or attempt to make connections with other beings, because they are task oriented and follow instructions in an effort to achieve some goal that was set by a higher authority, and seldom have to do any independent thinking. Whereas humans like us pretty much do the same, but we also take smoke breaks.

I guess what I am saying is that machines don't care if they are in the presence of another machine. Increasingly, neither do we. So much of what we do revolves around convenience, efficiency and removing humans from the equation. How many of us actually do anything anymore? Most of what is made is made by machines. When you call a company you get a machine. Shop online...machine.

Do me a favor. Tomorrow after you get up count the number of machines that you interact with throughout the day. From using your phone, computer, or car to the voicemail system, auto checkout or photo copier. Then compare that to the number of human beings you interact with. See which side wins. I'm going to make a guess that for most of us the machines are way ahead. But after all it is convenient.

I have made a point to talk to the people at convenience stores, and any other areas I can. The other day I had a guy out of the blue ask me a trivia question, because I happened to stop in at night when most other people don't bother. I asked him a question back and for a minute or so, we actually talked the way people used to. I guess I could have paid at the pump and saved myself a minute or two, but I actually choose to walk inside and deal with a person. In a small way, I remembered what is the best thing about being a person. That thing is other people.

The less we deal with people, the less able we are going to be able to deal with people. We have people skills, and they will decline when not used. We wonder why we don't trust people, or can't connect with them, or that no one seems to care about anyone anymore. I think it might be that we avoid them at all costs. Most people anymore voluntarily cut themselves off. What looks like convenience costs us so much more than we might realize. About the time we cut out others entirely, we will officially lose what makes us human. Then we will be no more than autonomous beings devoted solely to the completion of our tasks and the preservation of ourselves. In other words, robots.We are pretty close to that point already.

Seriously think about it tomorrow. Look at how much importance you place on meaningless machinery. Then look at how much effort you put into people. It's a little scary. For a lot of people I think the war is over, and we didn't bother to fire a shot.

Bless you, bless me, bless everybody!

2007-10-21T17:39:00.000-07:00

So I have been thinking about my vocation lately. I feel that I chose the wrong career path. The job that I am suited for, the job I think I could excel at, the job that is my destiny has been in front of me all along. This may shock some of you, but I think I need to say it. I am going to be the next Pope.

I know we have a Pope already, but he is old and we always need to have our eye on the future. That is why I'm starting now. I need to garner some papal support from the people I know. You can't just want to be Pope and it happens. You need to have a grass roots campaign to break into it. That is why I'm making my case to you.

Here are my main reasons I think the Popehood is for me.

1. I look good in hats.
Seriously, I like hats. I'm partial to the baseball cap, but I can branch out. That Pope hat is distinctive and dare I say powerful. It's a real forceful piece of headwear. I could totally put my own spin on it, and really make it a striking accessory.

2. I'm a good listener.
What is the main job of a priest? Listening to confession. When you are Pope you must hear a million confessions. And not just any schmo, but the real high up people. Can you imagine listening to the confessions of a bishop or a president? Wow! I bet they are ridiculous. I listen to people all the time. People unload their problems to me and I always listen. Hell, I might as well get paid for it.

3. I'm good at proclaiming things.
The Pope is always letting people know how things are. This is our stand on war, this is our stand on gay marriage, this is our stand on paper vs. plastic etc. I can do that! I have opinions, I think I know how things work. I can decide between right and wrong. Who's better Lennon or Mcartney? I think I know the official church viewpoint. Less filling taste's great? I'll give you god's stance. This job is perfect for me!

4. I like nicknames.
How many times in your life do you get to make your own nickname. Almost never. Usually it's something embarrassing you did, or some resemblance to a famous person. But when you are the Pope you just get to name yourself. And everyone has to go with it. John-Paul the second was originally Carol Wojytla, and Bendict, he was Joe Ratzinger. As far as I can tell Wojytla is hard to pronounce and Joe Ratzinger was Cliff Clavin from Cheers' real name. Or was it John? Anyway, these guys got to select a name for themselves. Carol chose John-Paul which were the two most famous Beatles, and Joe chose Benedict, because he couldn't think of a good original one. But think if the power. Getting to choose your own monicker? That's what being important is all about.

5. I'll make Pope fun again!
If you are roughly in my age range (29 again lol!!!) then the Pope you really know is John Paul II. Pound for pound the best Pope ever. I don't mean any disrespect, but I found him the most huggable religious figure ever. Didn't you? I mean, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks. He seemed to be the kind of guy that even if you disagreed with him he still would just be happy as hell to see you. If he had the time I'm sure he would have sent a Christmas card to everyone on the planet. Compare him with Benedict. No offense, but he looks like if you left your child alone with him when you got back he would have drank their blood. Maybe he's a swell guy, but he looks like the undead. I on the other hand would be a great huggable Pope. I'm going to be a delightful old man. For those of you who know me, you would have to agree. I will be a smiling, jovial, cute-pants of a senior citizen. Mark my words, you will want to hug me as soon as look at me.

These are but a few reasons. I haven't even touched on the sweet company car or the entire city/country that I could get used too.

I know what some of you are saying. Jay, be honest, you may not be Pope material. Believe me, I have thought a lot about it, and I know that the odds are long. Here are a few stumbling blocks.

1. I am not Catholic.
A quick check of the stats has shown me that 100% of the previous Popes have been of the Catholic persuasion. This is only a detail. I mean, there is a first for everything. Neil Armstrong didn't say, I can't walk on the moon because technically I am not a moonwalker. And in like manner I could be the first non Catholic Pope. I'm not even sure it is in the rules.

2. I don't like working my way up.
You always hear stories about how some guy starts in the mailroom and eventually works his way towards CEO. I am not that guy. I like to immediately start somewhere near the top. It seems that there is no real benefit to mucking about at or near the bottom when the higher positions are so much more desirable. I just don't see the need to work through priest, bishop, deacon, archbishop or cardinal. I think if you have the goods why not jump on in and go for the top. If I could be a saint without any of the prepwork I totally would go for that.

3. I get bored during long ceremonies.
Look, we all have been to a Catholic wedding. About the time they are kneeling or lighting candles for the hundredth time, I am looking for the exits. Not that I am against tradition or pageantry but I think I could trim it a bit. I mean, the Pope, as god's representative on earth can change anything he likes right? 15 minute weddings, 10 minute masses, and if you can't do a confession in less than 5, save it for next week.

4. I like birth control.
Well, like is not necessarily the word. No one likes taking pills, getting injections or wearing silly devices, but I like that it is around when you need it. Really anything to keep down the ridiculous amount of people we have on earth. I mean, look at China. They have a billion people. Even if you are a one in a million kind of guy there, you still have 1,000 people exactly like you. God doesn't want that, he has enough to deal with as it is.

5. I'm not good with absolute morality.
I'm a big believer in doing what works for you. It would be hard for me to be as hard line as a Pope should be. Thou shalt not kill? Well....maybe, maybe not. I'm not going to tell you what to do. Did you have a good reason? Well then fair enough.

So there it is. I think I have a shot. There will be other candidates for sure. But most likely they will be old fellas who are deeply entrenched in the whole Vatican system. What we need is an outsider, someone with a fresh point of view who can lead the church into this new milennium. And time is running out. After Benedict dies (next week or so) there will be a convention to decide who the new Pope will be. I am asking for your support. I already have a name picked out. Ready for it? Pope Fabulous the first. Let that sit for a minute. Pretty hot huh? You all want to hug me already.

We held these truths to be self evident

2007-10-19T17:40:00.000-07:00

I happened on to an article the other day at work. In my line of work I see lots and lots of newspaper articles. In fact, that is all I see. And endless supply of articles each painstakingly selected for clients who may or may not actually read them. Anyway, I found it interesting. Basically it was about the link between second hand smoke and illness. I thought It would be wise before commenting to do a little research. It does seem that the "link" very well could have been overstated. From the actual facts and statistics I have been able to find, second hand smoke doesn't seem to give you cancer, emphysema, heart disease or hypertension. It does still give you smelly clothes, itchy eye and the desire to bum them off someone who has a pack. But these outcomes are a little less ominous. For the record smoking still does cause cancer, emphysema, heart disease and hypertension for people who smoke, but if you are smart enough not to be one of them you probably are ok.

This led me to investigate some of the other widely held truths we have. It's amazing how much we thought we knew.

1. Baldness is hereditary. Nonsense. My dad has a full head of hair, so does my brother. I am getting thin in the back. And guess what, my uncle is bald and his son has thick lustrous hair. And don't give me this mother's side of the family thing. My grandfather had a full head of hair. It's caused by something else. I'm guessing witchcraft, bad karma, or possibly being single and trying to meet women.

2. Columbus discovered America. No he didn't. Just face up to it people. There were many groups that got here first, not mentioning the indigenous people who were here when he got here. If you work in a bank you like the holiday, but for the rest of it it just isn't working anymore.

3. Being overweight is unhealthy. Balderdash. If it were so unhealthy than why are there so many overweight people around huh? And where the hell are all the skinny people? Morbid obesity my ass. I saw at least 50 morbidly obese people today. If they were really so unhealthy shouldn't they all be dying?

4. Eating turkey makes you tired. Every Thanksgiving we hear about this. Some chemical in turkey that makes you drowsy. Forget about it. Turkeys are full of this chemical right? So they should be the laziest creatures around. But they aren't. The laziest creatures around are city employees. If you ate a city employee you would nap for days. Meanwhile the turkeys are out there living it up, gobbling, walking around and posing for dramatic wildlife paintings. Have you sever seen a wild turkey? Try catching that. What really makes you tired on Thanksgiving are your relatives. Listening to that noise for a few hours while you stuff as much into your mouth as possible is exhausting. Even if it isn't, you still are willing to fake a nap for a bit just to escape.

5. People get wiser as the get older. Wrong. I was really, really, really smart when I was 15. I mean seriously. I knew everything. Old people could not tell me anything without me being absolutely sure they were wrong. Now I listen to other people's opinions and actually give them some thought. Where did all of my knowledge go? These days I walk into a room and wonder what I was doing. When I was 15 I knew exactly what I was doing. It was usually something I wasn't supposed to. And it's gets worse the older you get. Call and ask your parents if they can work the dvd player. No, that's what I thought.

6. Married sex is better than single sex. You know who always says this? Married people. They are just trying to lure you in so they have someone to commiserate with. Remember when you were single and you would do it in the car, in a park, in church etc? Now you have a bedroom, and if you are feeling frisky the living room. Every married person knows this. Having sex with someone who you are legally bound to doesn't feel as exciting. And most likely you have picked up after your spouse, done their laundry and generally saw them at their least sexiest moments. The mystery goes after a bit and it gets to be like watching your favorite movie for the millionth time.

7. If you love something give it away, If it comes back it will be yours forever but...if...um....well...screw it. I can't remember the whole line, but I am assured that someone with profound mental illness made this up. Why would you give something away that you loved? The line should read. If you love something grab it before it leaves because if you give it away, it's going to wonder why you gave it away and feel like you never really loved it, so why the hell should it bother to come back if you were such an ass in the first place? That's much more accurate. This ranks right up there with "tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." This is a stupid attempt to make light of whatever stupid thing you did to make your loved one leave. Plus it sounds good when you read it on a hallmark card.

8. Beer before liquor never been sicker, liquor before beer you're in the clear. If you are drinking enough to throw up, maybe what order your drinks came in isn't the biggest problem you have. Your body has this little meter inside and when it hits the top your stomach and throat kick into reverse and attempt to do a little spring cleaning. It's like a bilge pump on a ship. Once it hits a certain level it's full reverse, baton down the hatches. Your body is smart enough to figure out that you started with Captain Morgan and then shifted to Bud Light. It sees through you clever ruse and gives you what you have got coming. It's natures way to say "think about this before the next time you try to poison me."

9. Size doesn't matter. Yes It does. It matters with almost everything. This isn't a sex thing, it's an everything thing. Deep down everyone likes to be impressed and surprised and shocked a little. Sure you can get someone a single rose on their birthday, but doesn't a bouquet go over a little better? Who wants a small ice cream cone, back rub, or house, when they could have a bigger more impressive one? Everyone will settle on some things, but in the back of your mind you really would prefer the bigger option. And yes, this works for sex too you dirty minded people.

10. You need to get in touch with your inner child. Yuck. You know who needs to get in touch with their inner child? Children. If you are an adult you need to get in touch with reality. You know who is in touch with their inner child? Michael Jackson and people with down syndrome. That's not an insult, it is just the truth. Both of the previous examples operate at a level far below their physical age. It's not the way to go about things. Getting in touch with your inner child is a code for, I'm going to be immature, irrational and not take responsibility. Get in touch with your inner adult, it seems like a better option.

So anyway, I would like to point out that all of these facts have been verified by the prestigious jaygro institute, and are all accurate and beyond question. If you do question them there is a handy little reply button at the bottom of this blog. Feel free, although you better have some facts to back you up. We strive for accuracy here people.

Interview with the President

2007-10-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

So I got an interesting call earlier. As it turns out there is a regular reader of my blog that I didn't know about. It seems that the president, yes our president has been checking out my musings from time to time. I was a little surprised. He mentioned that he liked the one about swearing, and he really loved the recent prescription medication one. I thanked him and then he made sure to tell me if I go after the HMOs I would be in for "an ass whuppin." Recently he had a press conference regarding the Iranian situation. We discussed this for a bit. Here is a transcription.

Me: Thanks for calling Mr. President. Let's start by asking you how are things going?

Bush: Good Jack, Very good...got my game face on.

Me: Good. I guess we should start with your press conference.

Bush: Yeah...Happy with it....talking points....em-phasis. You know.

Me: Yes, well you focused on Iran..

Bush: Yeah...Iran...I-ran...Axis...evil.

Me: So can we assume Iran is a threat?

Bush: Oh yeah, I mean, hell...There right there next door to them evil doers. They look the same, hell... they even got the same tv channels.

Me: Yes, well....You said some pretty harsh things.

Bush: Harsh.....Well you know what they say, you can't make an omlette without.... knowing....um.... how to make an omlette. Ya know.

Me: Right.......Well the Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad...

Bush: We call 'em Moody. (Heh Heh) he hates that.

Me: Right...um....Moody...

Bush: Ima...Ima.....Ima need an easier name to pronounce that's for sire.(heh heh snort)

Me: So you have spoken to him?

Bush: I don't talk to evil.

Me: Oh, I see. So you aren't going to talk?

Bush: Oh we haven't ruled it out. But I made it very clear that I will only talk to Mr. Ahmandinger if he stops being evil.

Me: So......A dialog is possible? What do you think you might say, given the chance?

Bush: Watch your back Moody (heh heh heh)

Me: So are you saying an attack on Iran is likely?

Bush: Oh it's all ready...We got planes in the air and...Um, I mean ...It's an option.

Me: So attacking is an option?

Bush: Well, it's one option.

Me: And what are the others?

Bush: Ya know....bombing them

Me: That seems a lot like attacking them

Bush: Well, yes and no...kind of an attention getter really. Let em know we mean business.

Me: But Mr. President, why now? Why are they all; of a sudden a threat.

Bush: Well it's stragety son. We known about them forever. What we thought we sould do is deplete our resources, lower our morale, and make the world hate us. Ya know, so we could catch 'em off gaurd. When the least expect it, element of surprise ya know?

Me: I see, so a plan is in place?

Bush: Oh, hell yeah. I got it explained real good. All we have to do is switch the plans we already got.

Me: I'm not sure I understand

Bush: Look..Spell Iraq. Ends with a Q right? Now spell Iran...N isn't it. We switch them letters and were good to go. Think of how much we will save on typing alone.

Me: But aren't you worried about the backlash? I mean the Iraq war is so unpopular.

Bush: Exactly. We switch the letters and we ain't fightin' the I-Raqis any more, we're fightin' the I-ranis. It's a whole new day. Hell, it's a whole other team. I'm tellin' you what. That Saddam night have been evil, but Moody...he's like....real evil.

Me: Help me out here. On a scale of 1 to 10, your saying..

Bush: He goes to 11.

Me: Well then.....Now some people claim that Iran has been a target for a while. They point to writings from the Project for a New American Century wher Iran is labeled as a threat and that military action is a viable and preferred solution.

Bush: You can't belive everything you read. Hell, you can't even believe everthing that people say. Dang man, I give myself about a %20 believability index. Go ahead give me a try.

Me: What do you mean?

Bush: Go ahead, give me an easy one.

Me: Um.....What color shirt are you wearing?

Bush: Blue....Believe that?

Me: Sure...Why wouldn't....

Bush: Wrong! It's light blue. See 8 outta 10 times you're dead wrong son.

Me: I see. Sell anyway sir, certainly you have some proof of this threat.

Bush: Hell yeah. Ironclad. The Iranis are helpin the Iraqis. Probably the Afghanis too as far as we know.

Me: Aren't the Afghanis our allies?

Bush: Hell...Not the Afghanis. Who am I thinking of. Pakistanis?

Me: Allies

Bush: Saudis?

Me: Allies

Bush: Well which one of them countries sounds like Iran?

Me: Iraq?

Bush: That's the one! There helping the Iraqis.

Me: But aren't the Iraqis our allies?

Bush: Hell , you seen the figures? No one like us over there.

Me: Good point. One last question sir. How solid is our intelligence.

Bush: Solid?

Me: Yes, solid. I mean surely we wouldn't attack another country, terribly straining our already overworked military, while vastly increasing the burden on the taxpayers who are increasingly fed up with an already unpopular war.

Bush: Let me say this. We are as certain that the Iranis are a threat as we were about Sadaam's weapons of mass destruction.

Me: That's what I was afraid of.

Just checked in to see what condition my condition is in.

2007-09-30T19:25:00.000-07:00

I realized I had a case of the blahs earlier. It could have been the weather, or the long drive, or the tiring weekend. The best remedy I thought, was to turn on the tv to see if I could find some help.

The first thing I saw was an ad that really made sense. It seems I could be suffering from a case of social mopey disorder. Phizer makes a pill that cures this, so I got a hold of some. The only drawback is that the side effects are heightened sensitivity to light and restless leg syndrome. No problem, I got a hold of some Prolex which cures the restless leg, and just avoided lighted areas. The problem I see is that Prolex is known to cause irritability and night vision. Well the night vision is no big deal because I am relegated to the dark. But the irritability won't do. I did a quick search and realized that Merck can solve my irritability with happitor.

Happitor is great, and I am a ray of sunshine, but there is only one catch. Spontaneius profanity syndrome. SPS is a real problem so I got a hold of Amylin who turned me on to Cuserin. Cuserin cured my SPS but left me with an aversion to the french and accelerated saliva disease. I can live without the french, but proper saliva balance is important to me. I navigated to Bristol Meyers who suggested Solimex.

Solimex will curb the saliva issue, although the rep told me quote, "fuck the french." The problem is my health insurance provider considers saliva balance a pre-existing condition so they won't chip in on the cost. This of course led me to payment anxiety, which Dey Laboratories can cure with Illustra.

Illustra makes you not care about paying for things, but the side effects are unexplained head inflammation and excessive masturbation disorder. I have resolved myself to the inflammation in the head, but I can't handle the crotch inflammation so Johnson and Johnson needs to come to the rescue.

Johnson and Johnson advised me to just live with the burning head as it is common in most adults, and sold me a topical salve. The chaffing is almost down to nothing, buit the salve left me impotent and fearful of the elderly. Please Glaxo Smithkline what can you do for me?

Impotence is so 5 years ago, but Eldery Anxiety condition is really cutting edge. Baltex has given me the ability to scare off the eldery with raging erections, but as always there are risks. I was advised that the left handed, nearsigthed or easliy startled shouldn't take Baltex. Foolishly I ignored the warnings which left me with Acute foreign accent condition and palsy hand. I can learn to use my right hand, but I can't speak in foreign accents, I have a family to think about. Luckily my doctor told me about Normatral.

Normiltral is a five time daily pill that may or may not help. It cures diseases and ailments on a random basis. For some patients it works wonders, but in some it may cause lung mite infestation or septic head. Unfortunately I got both.

Squib has cure for both of these. The lung mites can be minimized with Plustrex, and the septic head can be all but irradicated with Tulimort.

But I know what you are thinking. "Jay, aren't you concerned with genital frothing and advanced hipster worship?" Not anymore. I got some Zenicrom which makes everything better. True, I have night terrors and extra toe disease, but these are easily handled with a regiment of Introgen's new Claustrosil. I feel great apart from chronic nosebleeds and the inability to tip 15%, but that is no match for Zampholestin.

Eli Lily and Co. hit the jackpot with Zampholestin. It cures a variety of things, with only the mild side effects of enhanced gambling paranoia and itchy scalp. But I love gambling and I really don't have much hair. A quick dose of Balsortin has me sorted though. Who would have thought that a pill at breakfast and dinner would put me on the up and up. Now the intestinal flatworms, and profuse crying are a bit hard to deal with, but on the bright side I am thinner than ever.

So all in all, things are good. My mopeyness is gone, and I only have to figure out how to get rid of scaly back, ocular discharge, handshake phobia, reverse vertigo, and lazer urination. Really, when you think about it, i'm as good as new.

A layman friend of mine suggested a different cure. He thought I could cure my blahs with a beer or two and some conversation. I told him I would think about it. For right now I have about 30 pills to take, and I have to find a second job to pay for it all.

Hope everyone gets a good night's sleep. If not Ortho Mcneil makes a variety of products that might help.

Jay

Country roads take me home (the final chapter)

2007-09-28T19:26:00.000-07:00

Maybe there are more important things I could talk about here. Maybe with all that is going on in my life I could speak of more serious things. I'm not going to though. I started a saga here, and a decent number of people keep up with this nonsense. I can't leave you all hanging. There is an end, I swear there is. And it did mean something to me, maybe it will mean something to you.

A little background before I start. You would have to understand something. Our team has nnot been all that great for a bit. The football team, like it or not, is kind of the public face of your school. Their successes and failures give you a sense of pride or shame. My time at ISU was mostly shame. We were bad. With all due respect to the people who really worked hard to succeed, we really were bad. It became a joke for a while. Ames, Iowa: a drinking town with a football problem. We had some success, but it didn't happen until after I left. I watched from afar, but it doesn't mean as much when you are not there, living and breathing with the team. The success started to wane in the past few seasons, continuing through the first few games of this season. Do we have enough background? Good, let's continue.

I sat with my best friend from school Andy. My first friend and most steady reminder of our old times. We were surrounded with Iowa fans. Awful, eastern Iowa, gung ho Iowa fans. Strangers in our own land, we were willing to let ourselves be engulfed by the enemy. And then the game started.

We had witnessed the performance of our team in the first few games of the season. Embarrassing does not do it justice. Abyssmal, inept, shameful. These all apply. Half of the state were beside themselves. So much hope, so much promise, so much to build on. And we had nothing to show. No positive to take. Nothing that would let us believe that anything good could happen. And then the kickoff.....

Our boys came out and crushed the enemy in the first half of the game. An absolute domination. The mood grew into a fever pitch. Thousands of fans in unison began to believe. We rolled into halftime with a 12-0 lead. This was not what we expected. The faces of the people when you passed were of two types. Disbelief on the faces of the Iowa fans, sheer delight on the faces of the home team. We walked around knowing full well that the game was half over. The final minutes were surely going to be an eternity for the faithful. Our hopes gradually gave way to doubt. We wanted the best. Infact we ached for the best. We still knew that the odds were against us. It seemed only a matter of time before we came down from our fantasy world and the cold hard reality would set in. We wanted to win, we needed to win, but we wouldn't win.

As we walked back to our seats it started to unravel. The euphoria that we had in the first half gave way to dread. The opening posession of the second half was what we had come to know. A fumble led to some easy points for the other team. All of the momentum, all of the hard work was erased in moments. We were only a single possesion away from losing now. One slip and everything was gone. We watched, scarcely able to absorb what was happening. The game progressed in a tense almost unwatchable fashion. Our boys fought as hard as they could. they knew mistakes were made, advantages lost, and that the odds were not now and never were in their favor. It came down to the last few minutes. Iowa drove down to our end with time rapidly expiring. About three minutes were left and they lined up to kick a field goal that would put them up by one. This was what we all feared. We had some success, but at some point it began to fade, and now it was all but gone. The made the kick, and the hopes of 50 thousand were all but gone. All of the air left the building. The happiness and love that we shared was drifting off. We were left with a familiar sinking feeling. That pain in your stomach that won't go away. All the pressures, stresses, and anxieties that were recently gone, are now back and stronger than ever.My friend Andy was crying. Literally crying. He was born into this. He had been coming to Iowa State games since he was a toddler. He knows as much as any one else how this feels.

The only hope was for our team to drive the length of the field in under three minutes. Keep in mind we hadn't moved the ball at all in the second half. Every one had hope, but we knew it probably wasn't to be. The odds were too long, it wasn't our year, and now they are throwing some 60 yard bomb of a pass and, HOLY SHIT he caught it!! Some freshman caught his first pass ever at like their 18 yard line!!! We couldn't believe it. The whole stadium shot to life. All they had to do was make a chip shot field goal and the game was over. Our much maligned kicker who had been so good all day had to come through one more time. Iowa called three timeouts to ice the kicker. It got quiet in there. 50,000 people held their breath. And finally they lined up. Snap, hold, kick......good. 50,000 spectators exhaled in unison. And the clock read :01. One second left. All that needed to be done was a short kick and the game was over.

To save innocent people from the stress of the the ensuing second, I will just say. They didn't run it all the way back. The got about to the 20 before he went down. And what follows was beyond belief. Mayhem, pandemonium, an all out orgy of happiness relief and joy. I walked out in front of the trophy with an entire team hot on my heels. I felt like part of the team , but in reality we all were. 50,000 people all together...believing.

The rest of the night was a blur. The entire town celebrated. And by celebrated, I mean drank. We all drank as if tomorrow would never arrive. It didn't matter then. Some of us never made it home, some of us slept in our cars. Some of us woke up in places we didn't recognize. But it didn't matter. Despite everything, despite all the problems, the hassels, and the headaches, it was all worth it. One perfect day. And a perfect day makes the rest of the imperfect days fade. Mine faded that day. They came back later, but for 24 hours all was good. We all get a chance at great moments now and again. Don't miss them. They are few, but they are worth wating for.

Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo

2007-09-25T19:27:00.000-07:00

Alright, I am on about day three of not smoking. It's not so bad, unless you count the time when you are actually awake. If you include that, it pretty much sucks.

For those who don't know me very well, or not at all, I have been smoking off and on since I was about 19, which is....well.... longer than I would care to admit. I started smoking for probably the same reasons that many of you out there started smoking. The most important is that it was cool. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Jay you were 19, were you really worried about what was cool? I mean did you really fall to peer pressure at such a mature age? Well it wasn't exactly like that. At 19 you generally don't fall prey to what the rest of the group thinks unless you are an emo/hipster than it's almost unavoidable until well into your 30's.

Anyway, I used to hang around and chat with a few friends that smoked. Every once in a while I would bum one. Eventually after bumming enough, you feel obligated to buy a pack so you are not draining your friend's supply. All of a sudden, as if directly from the R.J Reynolds playbook, you are a smoker. People often ask,

"So, why would you ever smoke?"

They don't ask this in a polite, caring way. It usually is in an obnoxius, smarmy way. The way that implies that they are intelligent thoughtful human beings and you are a drooling sub-human barely capable of cell division. It often is followed with this question. The all time dumb question to ask.

"You know that's bad for you don't you?"

Yes, we know. It causes cancer, emphyesema, bad breath, sun spots, communism, and restless leg syndrome. We know! There is no point in reminding anyone at this point. If there truly could be someone who got to this point without knowing that smokes are bad, I say screw em. I mean really, if you are not going to make any sort of effort to keep up with things, then it's your own damn fault.

Do we know that cigarettes are bad? Yes, I heard someone mention something about that just the other day. It's not like it has been a topic of every television news show, every newscast, newspaper reports, movies, lawsuits, ad campaigns, as well as something your mother has told you since you were a child. Yes, call your mother and tell her to stop calling me, I know already.

I usually answer these questions in a clever way. "Why would I start? For the vitamins and minerals of course! And for the chicks! Didn't you know Lucky separates the men from the boys, but not from the girls?" "Did I know they are bad for me? Of course I did! Why would I want to get taller, or have adequate lung capacity? I wasn't planning on joining the NBA any time soon anyway."

People assume that cigarettes are 100% awful, disgusting, unhealthy, poisonous, evil, probably communist inspired wads of solid cancer causing agents. They want to make a big deal about how addictive they are. Yes they are addictive, but keep a few things in mind.

1. Addiction is an easy word to throw around.
We use it a lot lately to cover our bad behaviors. Sorry I was addicted to gambling. Whoops I guess I am addicted to cheating. Oh Dear, That whole rest room sting operation I was involved in...um......addicted? In other words, not really our fault. Addiction is a medical term, and it equates to a biological need so it's out of our hands.

2. Addiction's have a good reason to occur
Ever notice how very few people get addicted to banging their head against the wall? Or cauliflower? Or going to the dentist, doing taxes, waiting in lines or talking to their relatives? None of these things are fun. But look at the things we do get addicted to. Booze, sex, gambling, chocolate, drugs, more sex, driving fast etc. All of the things we really have fun doing just happen to be addictive. Go figure. The human mind and body desire certain things and when we get them we want more. At some point the desire gets out of whack and we become addicted. Whether it's mental or physical the reason is that there is some pleasure we get from it. Cigarettes have a certain amount of pleasure to them . Ask a smoker. It's not like we all picked them up and said. "Holy shit, these things are terrible....gimme another."

3. Addictions can be a wonderful excuse
Don't get me wrong. For someone truly stuck on alcohol, drugs or any of the other real addictions of the world, I have some sympathy. No one plans to get addicted to something. Maybe a change in behavior was needed. Maybe someone should have known better, or could have acted in a more mature manner. What ever the case, I'm not saying they are fake. But look at the advantages adictions can bring.

More frequent breaks at work. Smokers rule at taking 5 here and there. There are seldom drink dreaks, or shag breaks. Maybe.....

Lessened libility. Already mentioned this a bit, but it's worth a revisit. Self indulged ass? Sorry, it's the addiction. Got caught doing something I shouldn't? Sorry couldn't control it.

The shift from perpetrator to victim to hero. Need some sympathy? Addiction is better than illness. Yeah I said it. How many times have we seen a celebrity or politician get caught in something bad. It happens all the time. There is always a quick admission of an addiction. This is followed by a stint on a rehab clinic. If it's your first, no one cares too much. You might even still be seen as some one who has done something wrong. It's not until you get into the second, third or if you are really talented, 8th or 9th time in rehab befire it works for you. Once you show that you can't be trusted the public softens to you. Then the victim phase begins. The star will get through it with all of the fan's support, and perhaps god-willing. Always a good idea to hedge your bets. If you can't beat it, it was part of god's plan. (never admit any responsibility) Then when it is all over we have a new hero to worship. Some one will bring up how it is more "human" when these famous people make mistakes. How it makes them like us. They seldom mention how all of "us" go to jail more often, and for a lot longer, but hell we're not famous.

But anyway, I came tonight to talk about quitting smoking. I have made it through another day. It sucks, but it will get better. I'm not asking for your pity, I'm not asking for your sympathy. What I am asking for are distractions. Get my mind off of this shit people! Send jokes, make calls, punch my arm if you see me. Give me food, treats, a big hug if you want. Tell me stories, ask me trivia questions, send me nude pictures, whatever you have got! I am not picky at this point! I realize I am crying like a child here, but I am replacing my addiction with things that aren't as addictive. That's where you come in. I can't sit here and blog all day. I just just can't. I'm falling asleep in my food without the nicotine. On second thought, you know what? It passed. I actually feel good right now. I will check in again tomorrow. It comes and goes.

Another pleasant valley Hyundai

2007-09-21T19:28:00.000-07:00

Alright I have to interrupt the Iowa story for a current event. I'll get back to it soon, but this is more pressing.

I was driving to Grain Valley to my ex-wife's house. It's a small suburb of Kansas City. I go there every other week to pick up some cargo (children) for the weekend. I stopped in Oak Grove (Motto: Like Grain Valley, only with a truck stop!) to grab a bite to eat. I stopped, ate, and made my way back to the highway. The problem is that you have to take an access road to get to the road which leads to the highway. Turning left is not a viable option. I chose to turn right and find the first place to turn around. A little foreshadowing for you literary types. I haven't been in an accident for over a decade, and haven't gotten a ticket that wasn't dropped in almost as long.

I waited for an acceptable break in traffic, and then began to pull out. This red car all of sudden hits her brakes, swerves right to get to an exit and clips my front bumper. Honestly I didn't feel the impact. She stopped, in the middle of the road, and sat there. My response was pretty simple.

"What the....What..What are you doing? What the fuh....."

After a minute or so, where I honestly thought about pulling away, she gets out. So I got out. My question was, "did we hit?" She was on her cell phone, and was walking laps around both cars. She decided to call the cops before even leaving her vehicle. I inspected the "damage." Using a sophisticated car repair tool I call my "finger," I removed the bulk of the damage from her car. There were two tiny paint scrapes about as big as corn kernals. A quick look at my car revealed nothing except for two small red paint niblets. "Maam," I said. "Maam, there isn't really..." She was still walking circles. I tried to engage her in conversation, but it proved to be pointless. At his point I need a name to put with the face. I decided to name her Mrs. Pear. Not because there was any indication that was her name, but I was going by body style. I also thought about calling her Fanny Pack. This of course for the retro accessory covering her pooch. It wasn't long before the police showed up.

Officer Jeffers was a throwback cop. The kind of nice older guy that has probably been on the force for 20 or 30 years. He seems like he has probably seen it all. I didn't necessarily think that the police were warranted. But we live in a land of laws, so I guess I should have expected this. Like our forefathers said,

"When, in the course of humans events, ye are involved in a minor carriage bender, always call a constable, and be sure to produceth yon current insurance card."

Officer Jeffers informed me that if I was interested in not getting crushed by semis I should probably move off the main road. He then got out that little walker thingy. You know, the handle with the wheel on the end. He pushed it around a bit, but I honestly am not sure why. It reminded me of those little bubble ball popper things we all had as infants. I thought about pointing this out to him but I'm not positive we knew each other well enough.

To make a long story short. We got to a parking lot and had a standing around party. We all looked at each others cars, the police car, each other, officer Jeffers, the moon, the cars again etc. It was determined that I was at fault, sort of, aand that the damage was minimal. Mrs. Pear had made a call to her husband. This is a partial transcript.

"I had an accident...No, not me....Really......Some guy....The cops are here....Insurance."

Judging by the big dent in her bumper that was no where near where I had grazed her, I would say at some point she had a little previous experience on how to handle accidents. It was at this point I had realized that my insurance card was expired. And by "realized" I mean Officer Jeffers said to me, "You know that your card is expired?" Apparently my card went dead at the beginning of this month. I'm sure the insurance company sent me a new card, but I usually disregard their mail. I have a reasonably good relationship with the insurance company. I don't make claims or get into accidents, and they agree to email me once a month to let me know that money is coming out of my bank account. I have breached that trust. I didn't do it on purpose, and I still say it's not my fault, but I assume they will be disappointed. It's probably nothing that a rise in premiums won't fix though. The news that I didn't have a current insurance card sent Mrs. Pear in to a panic. She used a few more of her anytime minutes to call her husband again.

"Yes.....no insurance....who's going to pay to wipe this smudge off the car?"

Her car by the way, was a 2005 Hyundai Accent. I did a check in order to compare it to mine. '05 Accent vs. '00 Sonata. Her car has a cooler name, does a little better from 0 to 60, and has a bit sportier look. Bitch. I am losing here. The problem I saw is that she seemed pretty intent on getting it "repaired." I offered the use of my finger, or even a cloth if one could be found. I think she is opting for the body shop route. Every conversation in a body shop goes like this.

"Yeah it'll be $150.....Oh, you have insurance? What I meant was $2600."

I will be buying a new bumper, despite the fact that the damage was descibed as minimal. Despite the fact that officer Jeffers got out a tape measure and concluded that the heights of the "damage" on each car didn't match, and despite what I would usually term "common sense."

So I talked a few weeks back about shaking a fist at the universe and asking if that was all that it had for me. I shook, it answered. And the answer was, "look chief, there's more where this came from, don't tempt me. "

So here is the plea for help. The first person, rather the first kind soul, who brings me a beer will have my admiration, my eternal love, and a huge hug complete with bugs bunny style kiss. Offer good while supplies last.

Country roads take me home (part 4)

2007-09-19T19:29:00.000-07:00

I crept in to the nearest ames exit I could find. It was the first place with gas, and of everything in the world I needed, gas was at a premium. Gas should be cheaper in Iowa. Well, it should be cheaper everywhere, but Iowa in particular. There has been a push towards ethanol in the last decade or so. And if there is one place where there is corn to make ethanol from, Iowa is it. But prices did not reflect this. It's as if you pay a dollar for a bananna at your local grocery, and then go to Jamaica and try to buy one and they tell you it'll be $2.25. I wondered how hard it would be to make ethanol on the fly. There really was plenty of corn around. Field after field of it. I considered mushing up some and trying to stuff it into the gas tank, but I figured that was the exhaustion talking. Anyway,

I stopped at Kum and Go (Slogan: Yes, we get it, It's a funny name) I paid for some gas which cost the equivalent of what I spent my first year of college. I wanted something to drink so I broke down and actually drank a soda. For a second I thought about more tea, but the Lipton people still owe me some explanations.

Leaving there I made the final push to enter Ames proper. By this point I was late. I made one final call to my friend with predictable results. I saw the sign for Elwood drive and made the turn.

Let me explain something about the particular weekend I was going for. The big deal was the annual Iowa State- Iowa football game. This may seem like nothing to you folks who have never lived there. I assure you to the people of the state it's a big deal. It's a bit like the civil war, except instead of muskets, we get drunk and hurl insults at each other. It is possible that the entire state was hanging out on Elwood drive. To drive less than a mile it took me a good 25 to 30 minutes. I was now officially late-late. One interesting thing were the people I saw. I can only assume that the state legislation of Iowa made a concerted push in the last few years to improve the scenery there. They have started busing in really good looking people. And when I say people, I mean girls. The guys really looked the same, but as far as girls go, there was more talent in the neighboorhood if you know what I mean.

Finally I got to the hotel's parking garage. I found a spot and quickly realized there were no exits. Really, there were no exits. I surveyed each floor looking for a way out but there was none to be found. I took stairs, I rode elevators, I even considered going over the side. Eventually I had to go out through the place where the cars usually are driving. Luckily it was so close to game time that there were no cars driving. I still had no idea how to reach my friends. My only option was to walk to the game and hope I would run into them. I mean, how hard can it be to find a few people in a crowd of 50-60 thousand people?

Apparently it's not that hard. I walked through rows of people tailgating, growing a little more hopless with each car I passed. All of a sudden there they were. I caught them maybe 30 seconds before they were preparing to leave. We quickly surmised that I had entered my friends phone number incorrectly. That meant that the dozen or so calls I had sent went to a voicemail that undoubtedly belongs to a very confused person.

"Honey, who the hell is Jay, and why is he coming here? Who? Jay?? What the hell are you talking about? Don't yell at me! I'm not yelling!!"

Anyway, this is the good part. We got our tickets for the game. We paid a bit extra because we didn't want to sit in the grass area. We wanted an actual seat where we could sit, stand, and secretly drink beer where security couldn't see us. After a considerable walk in which we thought our section might not really exist we found it. Our seats were ok. In fact the were two steps away from the grass section. Well at least there still was the beer thing.

Stay tuned, tomorrow is the dramatic conclusion. Really it is, I promise.

Country roads take me home (part 3)

2007-09-18T19:30:00.000-07:00

I sarted calling my friend Andy at about 9:00 or so in the morning. It kept going right to voicemail. "Hmm, I thought, this is queer." Usually it gives a message or something. There certainly wasn't anything personally identifiable. Let me back up. Andy is my best friend from college. He was coming all the way from Seattle (City motto: Way cooler than anywhere else), and he was my contact. The plan was to meet him as early as I could, rendezvouz with some other friends, and then head over for the Iowa State- Iowa football game. Simple enough. I was only a bit behind schedule so maybe I should talk about that.

I think I mentioned before about the road thing. I knew the roads I was going on, at least for the most part. And I was pretty sure that I could remember enough landmarks to guide me. Maybe the best way to explain is to break it down leg by leg.

Highway 63

The Missouri people know it. Nothing out of the ordinary. I had chocolate milk and a nutri grain bar in me. I stayed awake by playing the radio loud and smoking cigarrettes. While on 63 I stopped for a big 32 ounce of Lipton's ice tea. (now with 20% more laxative power!). I passed Moberly, Macon, Kirksville etc while looking for my next road which was....

Highway 202

202 is a weedy little bitch of a road. It serves no purpose but to take you to highway 2. I tried to call Andy while I was on here. Here is a recreation.
"Hey.....hssssss.....I'm....about...hssssss...well....I'll try..hsss....call back........" 202 is a short one it lead me to....

Highway 2

Higway 2 is nearly as bland and unassuming as 202. Wait a minute. To 02. I get it! Oh wait! 270 takes you to 70. 435 is the road for 35. Holy shit, have I not gotten this all these years? Anyway 2 leads you to......

Highway 5

Some engineer or road planning expert, who apparently has the incorrect number of chromasomes, designed the intersection of these two roads. 2 ends at a "t" with 5. 5 has a sharp bend in the road right where they meet up. There is a stop sign at 2, but not at 5. Basically 5 is saying, "look chief you stop, I got shit to do." The problem is that you can't really see if anyone is coming. The only choice is to whip out onto 5 and hope that Bo and Luke Duke aren't going to knock you into a wheatfield. 5 leads you around for a bit. You go through a few towns. Again, "towns" After a bit you drive through one where you see the intersection with...

Highway 14

14 starts in some quaint little town with a name like "ocelot" or something. It's one of those towns where the hotels have signs saying "under old management," and they have special rooms where they encourage you to clean fish. I figured this was as good of a place as any to stop, grab a Lipton (keeps you regular!), and give another call to my friend.

"Hey....hsss....I'll.....hssssss....so about an.....hsssssssss...call back..."

14 goes on for a bit. By this time you are in Iowa. (State motto: Our mottoes are lame-o) You end up zigzagging through a town to continue on. I zigzagged through and noticed some sort of hubbub. In addition to the folding chair factory (your ass will love it!) there was some sort of auction going on. I don't know what they were selling but I did see a pen of frightened looking cows off to one side. 14 eventually leads to......

Higway 65

The problem is I never made it there. I will get to that shortly. After about three Lipton's (batton down the hatches!) I began to have a certain feeling. Now because this is a family blog I won't explain any of this in great detail. Suffice to say I got a chance to read some messages in a nice bathroom in a convenience store. I'm not sure who G-Pack is. But I did notice that some people had interesting things to say about him. The first message seemed to be supportive. "G-Pack is aweso(smear)." The next meassage I saw was more complete. It simply said "Fuck G-Pack!" Well apparently Iowa is divided about G-Pack. One camp thinks he's "aweso," and the other doesn't necessarily support him. Sentiment was more universal for a few other names I saw. Apparently Tracey H sucks cock, and there is even a phone number you can call to verify this. I'm not sure if she is as good of a time as was promised if I opted to call 505-874-3(scratch), but she sounds like a good gal.

It was at this time I began to get confused. (most likely from dehydration) I got to a point where you can go straight, or take a left onto the interstate. Interstate i-35 runs like a big gray turd across the entire state. Actually it runs across the whole country. It was part of the Interstate highway project enacted by Eisenhower in 19-something something. The goal was to make travel fast, safe and convenient. The interstates are primarily in a straight line which is good and bad. It's like getting to where you want to go by driving up two sides of a triangle instead of using the hypotenuse. Sorry, I might have lost some people. Anyway, you can drive faster, but if you are going somwhere the interstate doesn't go directly to, well then you have yourself a trade off. One thing I will say about Iowa is this.

The rest stops are fantastic. Not fantastic in a Governer Mcgrevy way. Although, if that is your thing, don't let me stop you. I mean fantastic in a beautiful palace where you can get a map, someting to drink and use the facility kind of way. These things are nicer than any house I have ever lived in. At bare minimum they have way more toilets.

So I hit one interstate (I-35) and followed it to another (I-80). Things were going well. Sure I had lost some valuable time, but I wasn't "late" yet. I called my friend again to see if I could get him. I don't think at this point I need to transcribe the call. You may have noticed a trend. All in all things were going well. I was about 15 miles from my destination when the gas light came on. Um............

Country roads take me home (part 2)

2007-09-17T19:31:00.000-07:00

It was just after 6:00 when I hit the outskirts of Columbia. I realized that it has been a while since I had made the drive and I was thinking that I might not remember every detail. Screw it. I have made the drive before and there is no reason to think that I can't do it again. I will recognize things. Strectches in roads, houses, homeless people etc. It's not like Lewis and Clark said "ooh we'll just scoot up the old Mississippi and then turn right at mile marker 51 and head towards Kansas City." No, they sure didn't. They said we're going that a way! You make a map, you paddle, I'll be up here doing shit. So off I went, head full of steam, hands on the wheel, nose to the grindstone etc.

The thing you have to remember when you drive in areas that are not the interstate, is that it is not a straight shot. It's not one contunous road from point a to point b. It's a series of roads that take you from point a, eventually to your place which is like point z. Here is a quick rundown of the roads I was going to be on. 63 to 202 to 2 to 14 to 5 to 65 to 80 to Elwood drive. Or is it 2 to 5 to 14, or 2 to 202? Anyway, that is a fair number of roads. I may not remember exactly the order they are in, but hell, this isn't a geography lesson, it's a road trip. I'm pretty sure they haven't suddenlly moved any of them. When I see the number I'll know..right?

The fun thing about trips like these are the towns you go through. On the interstate you pass through big cities. I say pass through because you really avoid them for the most part. Sure you see an exit with the typical exit stuff. You know Mcdonalds, QT, Day's inn etc. On the rural trips there are no exits. It's highway, stop sign, town. And usually town is a generous word. Most of these are one horse towns. Or, more accurately, used to be one horse towns. These are the towns who thoughtfully place their auto salvage/ sattelite sales businesses right on the main road so you can't miis them. Not small modern sattelite dishes, but those huge 70's things that could be used to relay messages to the space shuttle. Most of them look rusty and are filled with beer cans and sagebrush. If there is a gas station, it's not a QT or Breaktime, or Petromart. It's like Fred's Amoco and gun shop. The pumps are never digital. They look like holdovers from the gas crisis in the Carter era. You can usually see "regular" in faded letters somewhere on them. It's a bit of nostalga from the days when our gas had lead and the Russians were still evil and godless.

The Missouri part of the drive takes you through some actual towns. At least the first part of the drive does. Kirksville, Macon, these are towns with schools and Walmarts and everything. They aren't cities, but you could live there, if you wanted too. The second part of Missouri and the first part of Iowa are a little more desolate. Do you remember in Star Wars where Luke was riding in the landspeeder with Obi-Wan? The drive for a while until the hit Mos Eisley? (Yes, I am a nerd, eff off) Well that is what it is like. Villiage, nothing, villiage, whole lot of nothing, and way in the distance, civilization. It wouldn't surprise me to see sandpeople taking potshots at cars from the hills. At least it would wake you up.

Here are a few towns I went through.

Greentop- A gas station (operational?) Some parked cars, and that's about it.

Queen City- This is where Missouri turns into Iowa. It is complete with a big sign that says, "Iowa, fields of opportunity." A few years ago, it was, "You make me smile." So there are jobs out there for failed English majors.

Colfax- They advertise their folding chair factory.

Knoxville- Home to the sprint car hall of fame and racetrack. Whee-haa!

There is nothing wrong with any of these towns. As a matter of fact there is probably something right with them. I didn't see any crime, or even evidence of any crime. Truthfully I saw very few people, but I digress. A trip through this atmosphere is almost refreshing. Town, cornfield, Town, cow pasture, town. I saw more cows in the first few hours of my trip than people. And to this day a cow has never flipped me off, or tried to run me off the road. Ok, this is all for today, tomorrow the adventure begins.

Country roads take me home (part 1)

2007-09-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

Howdy pardners! Like Lewis and Clark, Vasco Degama, and Edmund Hillary I felt the urge to take a trip, have an adventure and see the world. So I went to Iowa. Now I know what you are saying,. "Jay, there is no adventure to be found in Iowa, this is a silly excuse to write about your ridiculous shenannegans" Well be that as it may, I did have a trip with some adventure like qualities about it. So come along. This reads a lot like the Iliad. Except without the monsters.

My day began at 5:15 a.m. Which is just a time when you shouldn't be awake. You shouldn't even have dreams at that hour. The body and brain should be completely closed for business. But I got up and did the one thing you always do when you take a trip...I went to Wal-mart. I stumbled in and found the few necessary things that I had neglected to pick up at a more sensible time. The people who work there always give you strange looks when you come in at that time. It's that look that lets you know exactly what they are thinking.

"Look, I have to be here, what the hell are you doing? If I have to get interrupted from stacking boxes of great value brand crap for an idiot who can't buy his deoderant at an appropriate time, than I want at least another dollar an hour."

I got my stuff and it was time to hit the road. There is always a sense of excitement at the beginning of every journey. The sense of the unknown leads to anticipation. It's what drove Champlaign (egotistical shithead), Cordoba (slave trading shithead), and Columbus (both types of shithead), to boldly set out to explore the wilderness. Like these notable explorers I had an iron will, a determined chin and a desire to conquer all I surveyed. The main difference was I wasn't in a boat. I was in a Hyundai. No matter, My journey was underway.

I stopped for gas which in additon to being very necessary for the success of the journey, was also a profoundly painful experience. I filled my tank which came to somewhere around a million, billion dollars. When I went to pay I double checked to make sure that there weren't other people sneaking up and secretly pumping gas from my pump. A few people did look a bit sketchy (it was 5:45) but from what I could tell they were using thier own pumps. So with some chocolate milk, a nutri grain bar and a bunch of cigarettes, I began my quest. What dangers lurked ahead in the darkness? We will have to see.

Hy-Vee is for lovers

2007-09-01T19:33:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how I came to this subject, but I will proceed as if everthing is going really well. For anyone who is not familiar, Hy-Vee is a chain of grocery stores in the midwest. They are famous for the slogan, "A helpful smile in every aisle." For the most part this is true. There always seem to be an abundance of employees around the store. I am pretty certain I have never really needed help when I was there, but I suspect it would be available if I did. Hy-Vee was actually the first real job I had. I mean the first real job in the sense of a dress code, w-2's, timeclock etc. I was about 15. I got the job and I had to learn how to tie a tie. I'm not sure what wearing a tie has to do with putting things on shelves and bagging groceries, but a tie was the norm. I was also getting to the stage in my life where I was not in control of myself, my hormones were. Remember that time? I'm sure it's similar for girls, but I remember being little more than a walking boner for a few years. And that's what I came to talk about.

My tenure at Hy-Vee was marked by a few recurring questions.
1. Who is that girl?
2. When did she start working here?
3. Would she ever go out with me?

The answers were typically,
1. I don't know
2. The other day
3. No, you're 15 stupid.

The thing that I noticed was that Hv-Vee employed almost exclusively, hot 15-18 year old girls. For me this was great. It really was like a more tasteful Hooters. At that age I'm not sure if I knew Hooters existed, but it couldn't have held a candle to Hy-Vee. I held fond memories of my time there, but honestly it might be the hormones I am remembering.

The reason I bring this up is that I go to Hv-Vee now and nothing has changed. Now don't get me wrong, I am solidly "above board" on the dating scene, if you catch my drift. I am not lusting after young women, but I bet the young guys that work there are. I see the stockmen and baggers with that same stupid, horny look on their faces like I had when I was thier age. I want to tell them. "Hey snap out of it! She's going to turn you down, and it won't get better when you are older!" But I don't. Somethings you are meant to learn on your own.

What makes matters worse is the way people dress nowadays. I remember pants being fairly relaxed. The period after the 70's when the pants went from suffocating to sensible seemed to make sense to me. Some people look good in tight pants. Some people. Gwen Stefani, Angelina Jolie, Roger Daltry, they can all pull it off. Most people look uncomfortable. And uncomfortable is to sexy what icebergs are to oceanliners. A major obstacle. For the bulk of the 89's and 90's we wore baggier pants. Sort of loose flowing things that really didn't define your body. Now, the pants are tight, and low cut. How did the low cut ass pants stay around for this long? As far as fashion trends go it's all right, but few people benefit from the top inch or so of thier crack hanging out. I am digressing, I'll get back to it.

I would assume that the application at Hy-Vee goes something like this.
1. Education
2. Work Experience
3. Tightness of pants

Somewhere in the interview they ask, "So about your pants, would say that you can sit comfortably? No...excellent. Now how about breathing? Not so good? Well fantastic when can you start?"

I don't think I spend a lot of time looking at butts, but I guess I do. How can you avoid it? The pants are so tight it's like the butts are right there in your face. Right there just hanging illegally in your big fat should be averting your eyes face. To balance it out I look at the guys butts too. You know, just to be fair.

The point I really came to make is that I have always found butts to be the funniest part of the body. Don't you? They are silly, if you really think about it. I've seen mine and it is a laugh riot. Just two cheeks with little function except to pad your bones when you sit. I giggle when I see them. Really I do, like a 6 year old. Ever watch a movie and all of a sudden you get unexpected butt? It's funny. Admit it! Now you're saying, "hey Jay, butts are sexy. Remember Angelina's butt in Original Sin?" Oh yes my friend I do! But try this little experiment. Take the hottest male or female you can think of. Now imagine them just rolling out of bed and walking outside to get the paper.Thier hair is a mess, they look confused and groggy. Now they give a scratch like we all do when we think no one is looking. As they bend over their pajama pants sag enough to where about an inch of crack is showing. Funny isn't it? You weren't thinking sexy at all were ya?

My sister told me a great story once about taking her daughter to a pool. They were in the changing room, and standing next to them is an old lady with one of those big old lady butts. Just right out there for all to see. Her daughter was about 6 at the time. She (my niece, not my sister) walks over to the old lady, smacks her in the tuckus and yells, "spank your booty!" That's comedy people.

Wow, I just wrote a whole blog about butts and Hy-Vee girls. This is not what I planned. Anyway, I'll sum up.
1. I liked teenage girls when I was a teen.
2. I think butts are funny
3. Pants might be too tight these days
4. I liked teenage girls when I was a teen.

See you later everyone, I hope my mom never reads this. Or any future employers for that matter.

Jay