Thursday, April 30, 2009
All Is Well
For those of you wondering where I've been, I seem to have become a bit uninspired lately. Fear not because several things have gotten under my skin lately and they will undoubtedly spew forth onto this page within days.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
My Fingers Are Tired
This is a very hectic week for me. I need to take a mental break from the blog. I'll try to get back to it this weekend. I hope you have found it to be thought provoking. Check back soon!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
April 12 - Rant Of The Day
Yesterday, we went out to buy some paint. We came home with a new car. Overall, this transaction was a relatively easy process. But it was still nowhere as simple as it should have been. Had the economy been stronger than it is now, I surely would have been put through the ringer at the dealership, the same way I always have been in the past. In most cases if you want to buy a car, you can forget the words "quick" or "simple". The process of buying a car is a ridiculous exercise that has never benefited a single buyer.
Imagine what it would be like if buying a new pair of shoes was similar to the car buying process. First you would arrive at the shoe store where a group of shoe salesmen would be smoking and drinking coffee near the entrance. As you exit your car, one would approach and offer friendly assistance. The two of you would go inside where the salesman would point out different features and make suggestions, trying to convince you that his shoes are much better than anyone else's shoes.
After trying a few pairs on for size and walking in them a bit, you would make a selection. "Ah yes", the salesman would say. "Those plastic flip-flops are our most popular model." "I don't know", you say nonchalantly. You try your best to act indifferent to the flip-flops, but you are imagining how good those giant plastic flowers will make your feet look. As a display of your indifference, you slowly walk toward the exit. Suddenly the salesman offers you some delicious coffee and comfortable seat. "Don't leave. You are going to love those flip-flops when you get them home", the salesman says. "What will it take for me to get you into those flip-flops today?"
You yawn. (This is not your first day at the rodeo.) Your old flip flops are still in perfectly fine shape, but they don't have that "new flip-flop smell" anymore. Inside, you know you won't be happy until you have the new ones with the big plastic flowers. "Don't let on that you like them", you think to yourself.
"I'm sure we can make you a very good deal", the salesman says. Suddenly, he whips out a piece of paper with four squares on it. In each square he writes a different number including the asking price for the flip-flops, trade-in value of your old flip-flops, and the recommended down payment and the monthly payment for your new shoes. He slides the piece of paper to your side of the table where you are shocked to see that the salesman is asking twice the going rate for this new pair of flip-flops, your old flip-flops are worthless (even though you know they are in good shape), the down payment is more than you have ever had in your checking account, but the monthly payment is only twenty eight cents.
You try to keep a poker face and you make a sly counter offer. You know what those new flip-flops are really worth and you are not going to be taken for a ride, just because those flowers on the toe are the perfect shade of purple. You and the salesman continue to haggle. Every time you make a counter offer, he leaves you waiting for fifteen minutes while he goes to talk to the manager who sits behind a glass enclosed booth. The salesman appears to plead with the manager while the manager yells at the salesman just loud enough for you to hear.
After you send the salesman back with your twelfth counter offer, the manager leaves his booth and comes to speak to you personally. You and the manager strike a deal. The salesman shakes his head and looks sad. He's been beaten by a better negotiator. The negotiations have taken three hours but you feel victorious. You can almost feel the envious stares of all the other pedestrians who are still wearing last year's flip-flops.
Next, you wait to speak to the cashier. You think you are in the clear but you are not. "Would you like to buy the extended warranty with those flip-flops?", he says. "What about fabric protection? Imagine how you'll feel if those flip-flops get dirty. I don't think we can finance those flip-flops for you for anything less than 32.9% interest. How about if we go seventy two months on those?"
Imagine what it would be like if buying a new pair of shoes was similar to the car buying process. First you would arrive at the shoe store where a group of shoe salesmen would be smoking and drinking coffee near the entrance. As you exit your car, one would approach and offer friendly assistance. The two of you would go inside where the salesman would point out different features and make suggestions, trying to convince you that his shoes are much better than anyone else's shoes.
After trying a few pairs on for size and walking in them a bit, you would make a selection. "Ah yes", the salesman would say. "Those plastic flip-flops are our most popular model." "I don't know", you say nonchalantly. You try your best to act indifferent to the flip-flops, but you are imagining how good those giant plastic flowers will make your feet look. As a display of your indifference, you slowly walk toward the exit. Suddenly the salesman offers you some delicious coffee and comfortable seat. "Don't leave. You are going to love those flip-flops when you get them home", the salesman says. "What will it take for me to get you into those flip-flops today?"
You yawn. (This is not your first day at the rodeo.) Your old flip flops are still in perfectly fine shape, but they don't have that "new flip-flop smell" anymore. Inside, you know you won't be happy until you have the new ones with the big plastic flowers. "Don't let on that you like them", you think to yourself.
"I'm sure we can make you a very good deal", the salesman says. Suddenly, he whips out a piece of paper with four squares on it. In each square he writes a different number including the asking price for the flip-flops, trade-in value of your old flip-flops, and the recommended down payment and the monthly payment for your new shoes. He slides the piece of paper to your side of the table where you are shocked to see that the salesman is asking twice the going rate for this new pair of flip-flops, your old flip-flops are worthless (even though you know they are in good shape), the down payment is more than you have ever had in your checking account, but the monthly payment is only twenty eight cents.
You try to keep a poker face and you make a sly counter offer. You know what those new flip-flops are really worth and you are not going to be taken for a ride, just because those flowers on the toe are the perfect shade of purple. You and the salesman continue to haggle. Every time you make a counter offer, he leaves you waiting for fifteen minutes while he goes to talk to the manager who sits behind a glass enclosed booth. The salesman appears to plead with the manager while the manager yells at the salesman just loud enough for you to hear.
After you send the salesman back with your twelfth counter offer, the manager leaves his booth and comes to speak to you personally. You and the manager strike a deal. The salesman shakes his head and looks sad. He's been beaten by a better negotiator. The negotiations have taken three hours but you feel victorious. You can almost feel the envious stares of all the other pedestrians who are still wearing last year's flip-flops.
Next, you wait to speak to the cashier. You think you are in the clear but you are not. "Would you like to buy the extended warranty with those flip-flops?", he says. "What about fabric protection? Imagine how you'll feel if those flip-flops get dirty. I don't think we can finance those flip-flops for you for anything less than 32.9% interest. How about if we go seventy two months on those?"
Friday, April 10, 2009
April 11 - Rant Of The Day
I have made it a policy to always speak of people in the third person on this blog, and never to use a person's name. But today, I'm making an exception. This blog is dedicated to my friend *****, who is just the latest in a string of friends to tell me that I need to sign up for Facebook because she can't be bothered to read my blog. Apparently, it is terribly inconvenient for her to use any method other than Facesbook for staying in touch. As a bet of sorts, I promised her that if she would leave a comment on my blog, that I would remove her name from the posting. I doubt it will happen.
I have never looked at the Facebook website. I am anything but an expert on the subject. But from what I gather, it is a place where you can group all of your web contacts together on one page. Then as your contacts add diary entries or photos, you can see all of their updates at once on one page, making it easy and convenient for you to keep track of your friends and their daily lives.
On the face of it (no pun intended) it sounds like a good idea and I can see how this might be useful in certain situations. But here's the problem - I believe that instead of using Facebook as an additional tool to maintain contacts with folks they might only speak to rarely, people are using Facebook as the primary way to maintain their friendships. Facebook people have decided that rather than to reach out to the people they love, that they would rather sit back and let everyone come to them. They don't have to call, write, read a blog, or even send an email. Instead, they can maintain their friendships passively, without lifting a finger to reach out to anyone.
Now, if any of you Facebook people believe I am wrong about this, I'm listening. But so far, I have not heard anyone explain it to me in a better way.
This weekend, I promised myself that I would sit down with my address book (okay my address spreadsheet) and call all of the people that I feel have been missing from my life lately. One of the people on my list was Kelli, who when asked if she ever read my blog, told me that although she saved it in her list of favorites, that she had not read it in months. Then in the same breath she said, "You should get on Facebook." After hearing this a dozen times from other people, I had had it. At that point, I pretty much had a conniption fit right there on the phone and I let her have it (with love of course).
After listening to my, "I'm sick of hearing about Facebook" speech, her only response to me was, "But I've found people that I went to Elementary School with." To which I replied, "And they are the same people who you didn't care enough about to maintain your friendship with in the first place! Meanwhile, the people you have been friends with for the last fifteen years are being ignored because they are not on Facebook!"
Facebook is nothing but a jiggling,shiny set of car keys in front of a baby's face. The baby is distracted by the action in front of them, and momentarily forgets all about the other goings-on of their life. The entertainment requires no effort, but also results in nothing accomplished. Meanwhile, after the laughter, all that is left is a dirty diaper.
Facebook may be an entertaining way to follow the lives of people you once lost touch with. But it is no substitute for the real effort it takes to make and to keep a friend. Therefore, I would just like to say for the last time, on the record, "I will not sign up for Facebook. If you want to talk to me, pick up the damn phone."
Kelli, this poem is for you:
I will not Facebook in a box!
I will not Facebook with a fox!
I will not Facebook here or there!
I will not Facebook anywhere!
I would not, could not in a tree!
Not in a car! Now let me be!
I will not Facebook you lazy pile of Spam!
I will not Facebook Sam -I- Am !
I have never looked at the Facebook website. I am anything but an expert on the subject. But from what I gather, it is a place where you can group all of your web contacts together on one page. Then as your contacts add diary entries or photos, you can see all of their updates at once on one page, making it easy and convenient for you to keep track of your friends and their daily lives.
On the face of it (no pun intended) it sounds like a good idea and I can see how this might be useful in certain situations. But here's the problem - I believe that instead of using Facebook as an additional tool to maintain contacts with folks they might only speak to rarely, people are using Facebook as the primary way to maintain their friendships. Facebook people have decided that rather than to reach out to the people they love, that they would rather sit back and let everyone come to them. They don't have to call, write, read a blog, or even send an email. Instead, they can maintain their friendships passively, without lifting a finger to reach out to anyone.
Now, if any of you Facebook people believe I am wrong about this, I'm listening. But so far, I have not heard anyone explain it to me in a better way.
This weekend, I promised myself that I would sit down with my address book (okay my address spreadsheet) and call all of the people that I feel have been missing from my life lately. One of the people on my list was Kelli, who when asked if she ever read my blog, told me that although she saved it in her list of favorites, that she had not read it in months. Then in the same breath she said, "You should get on Facebook." After hearing this a dozen times from other people, I had had it. At that point, I pretty much had a conniption fit right there on the phone and I let her have it (with love of course).
After listening to my, "I'm sick of hearing about Facebook" speech, her only response to me was, "But I've found people that I went to Elementary School with." To which I replied, "And they are the same people who you didn't care enough about to maintain your friendship with in the first place! Meanwhile, the people you have been friends with for the last fifteen years are being ignored because they are not on Facebook!"
Facebook is nothing but a jiggling,shiny set of car keys in front of a baby's face. The baby is distracted by the action in front of them, and momentarily forgets all about the other goings-on of their life. The entertainment requires no effort, but also results in nothing accomplished. Meanwhile, after the laughter, all that is left is a dirty diaper.
Facebook may be an entertaining way to follow the lives of people you once lost touch with. But it is no substitute for the real effort it takes to make and to keep a friend. Therefore, I would just like to say for the last time, on the record, "I will not sign up for Facebook. If you want to talk to me, pick up the damn phone."
Kelli, this poem is for you:
I will not Facebook in a box!
I will not Facebook with a fox!
I will not Facebook here or there!
I will not Facebook anywhere!
I would not, could not in a tree!
Not in a car! Now let me be!
I will not Facebook you lazy pile of Spam!
I will not Facebook Sam -I- Am !
Thursday, April 9, 2009
April 10 - Rant Of The Day
There is one word in the English language that is more powerful than any other that I can think of. This word can immediately reduce a person's efforts to the point that they seem inconsequential. The word is used to infer that the process of doing what is asked is simple and requires no particular skill or effort. The word is "just".
Remember Nancy Reagan's anti-drug slogan, "Just say no"? Does anyone want to take a guess why the word "just" is a part of that phrase? What if the phrase was instead, "Say no"? The efforts of a herione addict to avoid feeding their addiction are not lessened by the use of the word "just", but it does sound easier doesn't it?
Years ago, a co-worker of mine used this word with me to request a monumental task. We both laugh about that day when we talk now, but at the time I couldn't believe she could be so flip as to use that word. I thought I would come completely unglued.
It came up again the other day when I pointed out to the author of a functional requirements document, that she had neglected to account for a particular scenario that I had encountered when building piece of software to her exact specifications. The additional time needed to develop the solution was to say the least, significant. I couldn't see her as we were speaking on the phone, but I swear she must have shrugged her shoulders as she said, "Why can't you just plug that in?"
Using the word "just" does not make something simple, nor does it dimish the efforts required to accomplish a task. And when you are the one asking for something, it does not make your request any less inconvenient. So, why don't you just bite me?
Remember Nancy Reagan's anti-drug slogan, "Just say no"? Does anyone want to take a guess why the word "just" is a part of that phrase? What if the phrase was instead, "Say no"? The efforts of a herione addict to avoid feeding their addiction are not lessened by the use of the word "just", but it does sound easier doesn't it?
Years ago, a co-worker of mine used this word with me to request a monumental task. We both laugh about that day when we talk now, but at the time I couldn't believe she could be so flip as to use that word. I thought I would come completely unglued.
It came up again the other day when I pointed out to the author of a functional requirements document, that she had neglected to account for a particular scenario that I had encountered when building piece of software to her exact specifications. The additional time needed to develop the solution was to say the least, significant. I couldn't see her as we were speaking on the phone, but I swear she must have shrugged her shoulders as she said, "Why can't you just plug that in?"
Using the word "just" does not make something simple, nor does it dimish the efforts required to accomplish a task. And when you are the one asking for something, it does not make your request any less inconvenient. So, why don't you just bite me?
April 9 - Rant Of The Day
Why is it that members of the religious right feel that they alone are qualified to decide which citizens may have federal and state entitlements and priveleges bestowed on them by the government? Why is it that they can quote the second amendment of the Constituion chapter and verse when it comes to gun ownership debates, but somehow completely forget the rest.
Article 11
"The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people."
I am a citizen of the United States. I am entitled to equal treatment under the law (all laws) whether you think so or not. Any law which provides rights or entitlements by the government should not be limited to a specific group of people, even the ones who think God is on their side.
I do not believe the truth of a book written at a time when the Earth was considered to be flat and sea monsters were a real danger to sailors. I do not believe that Jonah lived in a fish for three days nor do I believe in the story of Jack and the beanstalk. Please stop telling me what your God thinks about all this. He is not a registered voter. If you want to live in a theocracy, move to Iran.
Would anyone deny my government bestowed right to speak freely, to travel freely, or to vote? What logical reason is there to deny just the right of marriage? Either repeal all of the rights and entitlements of marriage bestowed by the government, and reduce marriage to a strictly religious ceremony, or bestow the rights and entitlements of marriage to all citizens of the United States.
Article 11
"The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people."
I am a citizen of the United States. I am entitled to equal treatment under the law (all laws) whether you think so or not. Any law which provides rights or entitlements by the government should not be limited to a specific group of people, even the ones who think God is on their side.
I do not believe the truth of a book written at a time when the Earth was considered to be flat and sea monsters were a real danger to sailors. I do not believe that Jonah lived in a fish for three days nor do I believe in the story of Jack and the beanstalk. Please stop telling me what your God thinks about all this. He is not a registered voter. If you want to live in a theocracy, move to Iran.
Would anyone deny my government bestowed right to speak freely, to travel freely, or to vote? What logical reason is there to deny just the right of marriage? Either repeal all of the rights and entitlements of marriage bestowed by the government, and reduce marriage to a strictly religious ceremony, or bestow the rights and entitlements of marriage to all citizens of the United States.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
April 8 - Rant Of The Day
At what age should young men stop using the word, "dude" to refer to someone whose name they know? Personally, I think a young man's last uttered "dude" should be on his high school graduation day. If you really want to be nice about it, then let's give them until their graduating class finishes college. After that, every uttered "dude", should be met with a hefty fine and a mandatory jail sentence. Dude, I can't stand it anymore.
Also left to echo in high school hallways should be "like" (when used more than once in a sixty second period), "chick" (used to refer to a woman) and "you know what I'm sayin'", because frankly, no, I don't know what you are saying.
If any of you are still using these words and phrases often, trust me, you sound like an idiot. And by the way if you are not a baseball player, but you insist on wearing a baseball cap anyway, would you mind turning your baseball cap around with the bill in the front? And pull your pants up. You look like an idiot too.
Also left to echo in high school hallways should be "like" (when used more than once in a sixty second period), "chick" (used to refer to a woman) and "you know what I'm sayin'", because frankly, no, I don't know what you are saying.
If any of you are still using these words and phrases often, trust me, you sound like an idiot. And by the way if you are not a baseball player, but you insist on wearing a baseball cap anyway, would you mind turning your baseball cap around with the bill in the front? And pull your pants up. You look like an idiot too.
Monday, April 6, 2009
April 7 - Rant Of The Day
When I was fifteen years old, I opened my first checking account. When I was sixteen years old, the bank mailed me a magical card that allowed me to use these fancy new machines they called "ATMs". It turns out that these letters stood for "Automated Teller Machine" and get this- I could take out money and make deposits without even going inside my bank! I didn't even have to go near my bank! Isn't that wild? Soon after came the advent of the debit card. Not only was it an ATM card, but I could also make purchases with it. Crazy, huh?
Fast forward twenty five years. Retailers are staffing the minimum number of cashiers they can possibly get away with. Lines to pay are incessantly long. Boy, it's a good thing we can all just swipe our debit cards and move along, right? Wrong!
Here I am at the warehouse store. I just want to buy some coffee, a set of tires, a diamond ring, and a side of beef and I'm ready to pay. I've waited patiently for six other customers to complete their transactions. There is just one more customer in front of me. Let's call her Myrtle. The cashier has totaled up Myrtle's purchases and is waiting for Myrtle to pay. We are all waiting for Myrtle to pay. Myrtle is fishing through her purse. She isn't exactly sure where her checkbook is, but she knows it's in there somewhere. "What's the date today?", Myrtle asks. Darn, Myrtle's pen is out of ink.
Meanwhile, I have lost the vision in my left eye because of the stroke I am having. Please people, I'm begging you - save the checks to slip inside your grandchild's birthday card. Use your debit card at the warehouse store or I will steal the pen right out of your check-writing hand and stab you in the neck with it.
Fast forward twenty five years. Retailers are staffing the minimum number of cashiers they can possibly get away with. Lines to pay are incessantly long. Boy, it's a good thing we can all just swipe our debit cards and move along, right? Wrong!
Here I am at the warehouse store. I just want to buy some coffee, a set of tires, a diamond ring, and a side of beef and I'm ready to pay. I've waited patiently for six other customers to complete their transactions. There is just one more customer in front of me. Let's call her Myrtle. The cashier has totaled up Myrtle's purchases and is waiting for Myrtle to pay. We are all waiting for Myrtle to pay. Myrtle is fishing through her purse. She isn't exactly sure where her checkbook is, but she knows it's in there somewhere. "What's the date today?", Myrtle asks. Darn, Myrtle's pen is out of ink.
Meanwhile, I have lost the vision in my left eye because of the stroke I am having. Please people, I'm begging you - save the checks to slip inside your grandchild's birthday card. Use your debit card at the warehouse store or I will steal the pen right out of your check-writing hand and stab you in the neck with it.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
April 6 - Rant Of The Day
I guess that airplane travel is an easy target. Who would disagree that airplane travel is miserable? But there are two things that irritate the bejeezus out of me that I never hear discussed.
Before I get to those two things, can I just make one observation about airplane seats? Can someone please explain to my why they are not at least as wide at the top of the seat as they are at the bottom? It's no secret that I am chubby. But, my ass and my waist fit in my seat with room to spare. The problem is my arms and my shoulders. Unfortunately, I cannot remove my arms from my torso and place them in the overhead. Well, I could. But it would be very difficult to put them back on. Has anyone ever see a human being whose ass is wider than their shoulders? Scratch that. Let me rephrase. Is it fair to say that most people are broader at the shoulders than they are at the hips? Who are these seats designed for, people without arms?
Dear fellow passengers (especially women), please control your purses, shopping bags, and luggage as you board the plane. I am tired of being whacked by your purse as you board. Your purses and luggage should be held in front of you or behind you as you walk down the aisle, not to your side. The next one of you that hits me with your oversized bag full of truly essential items is not going to make it to the final destination of their flight. Instead, I will leap out of my seat and choke you to death right there in the aisle. And don't expect the other passengers to defend you. They will be too busy applauding.
Dear passenger seated behind me. I paid for my seat. In my mind, this means that I am entitled to its use, while you are not. Notice that the back of my seat does not have a built-in grab bar, like the handicapped bathroom stalls you undoubtedly use even though you do not need them. Please do not yank on my seat to pull your fat ass up as you stand. Instead, try using those tree stumps that you call legs to rise from your seat. If you still find it difficult to stand, try using your own armrests to support yourself. The next person who yanks on the back of my seat to sit or stand is going to have their eyeballs ripped from their sockets. Then, when they can no longer see, I will also steal their in-flight snack.
Before I get to those two things, can I just make one observation about airplane seats? Can someone please explain to my why they are not at least as wide at the top of the seat as they are at the bottom? It's no secret that I am chubby. But, my ass and my waist fit in my seat with room to spare. The problem is my arms and my shoulders. Unfortunately, I cannot remove my arms from my torso and place them in the overhead. Well, I could. But it would be very difficult to put them back on. Has anyone ever see a human being whose ass is wider than their shoulders? Scratch that. Let me rephrase. Is it fair to say that most people are broader at the shoulders than they are at the hips? Who are these seats designed for, people without arms?
Dear fellow passengers (especially women), please control your purses, shopping bags, and luggage as you board the plane. I am tired of being whacked by your purse as you board. Your purses and luggage should be held in front of you or behind you as you walk down the aisle, not to your side. The next one of you that hits me with your oversized bag full of truly essential items is not going to make it to the final destination of their flight. Instead, I will leap out of my seat and choke you to death right there in the aisle. And don't expect the other passengers to defend you. They will be too busy applauding.
Dear passenger seated behind me. I paid for my seat. In my mind, this means that I am entitled to its use, while you are not. Notice that the back of my seat does not have a built-in grab bar, like the handicapped bathroom stalls you undoubtedly use even though you do not need them. Please do not yank on my seat to pull your fat ass up as you stand. Instead, try using those tree stumps that you call legs to rise from your seat. If you still find it difficult to stand, try using your own armrests to support yourself. The next person who yanks on the back of my seat to sit or stand is going to have their eyeballs ripped from their sockets. Then, when they can no longer see, I will also steal their in-flight snack.
April 5 - Rant Of The Day
Only in recent years have I noticed a new term that really gets under my skin - "activist judges", a term I only seem to hear during right-leaning broadcasts. Simply put, there is no such thing as an activist judge. It's just a made up term that gets used whenever a judge disagrees with the status quo. What people who use this term never acknowledge is that the judicial branch of government has the specific and intended responsibility to act as a check and balance for the executive and legislative branches, even when its opinion is not in lock step with the majority. Their job is to interpret the letter of the law, not to bob their heads in agreement like robe-wearing lemmings.
Dear Mr.'s O'Reilly, Beck, Limbaugh and Hannity. Please stop using the term activist judge every time a ruling comes down that you disagree with. It makes you sound childish and diminishes the weight of your arguments. (Dear Ann Coulter, please continue to use this term as well as any other terms that pop into that brain of yours. Please do not think about the words that are about to come out of your mouth before you speak them. Please do not deprive us of the entertainment we derive from the three-ring circus that is your mouth, you freak.)
P.S. - Bravo Iowa, for the heroic decision of your activist judges.
Dear Mr.'s O'Reilly, Beck, Limbaugh and Hannity. Please stop using the term activist judge every time a ruling comes down that you disagree with. It makes you sound childish and diminishes the weight of your arguments. (Dear Ann Coulter, please continue to use this term as well as any other terms that pop into that brain of yours. Please do not think about the words that are about to come out of your mouth before you speak them. Please do not deprive us of the entertainment we derive from the three-ring circus that is your mouth, you freak.)
P.S. - Bravo Iowa, for the heroic decision of your activist judges.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
April 4 - Rant Of The Day
I spent several years working for tips and I consider myself to be a generous tipper. I empathize with folks who rely on tips to earn a living. Some of them are truly deserving of all you can spare for a job well done. For example, consider the life of a hotel maid. Ever wonder what it must be like to clean a dozen toilets used by strangers every day of your life? If that isn't worth a fiver, nothing is.
But what the hell is going on with all the tip jars springing up at every self-serve counter in town? I'm sorry, but if I have to stand in line to order and pay, you are not getting a tip from me. I don't care whether you call yourself a barista. You don't know what it's like to earn tips for a living until you have spent a year hawking spaghetti dinners to groups of Japanese tourists a block from Disneyland like I did. I can still remember those mornings my feet hurt so bad I could barely walk after pulling a double shift waiting tables the day before.
I've been there and you haven't, guy at Subway. And furthermore, you ain't getting a tip from me for making my sandwich.
But what the hell is going on with all the tip jars springing up at every self-serve counter in town? I'm sorry, but if I have to stand in line to order and pay, you are not getting a tip from me. I don't care whether you call yourself a barista. You don't know what it's like to earn tips for a living until you have spent a year hawking spaghetti dinners to groups of Japanese tourists a block from Disneyland like I did. I can still remember those mornings my feet hurt so bad I could barely walk after pulling a double shift waiting tables the day before.
I've been there and you haven't, guy at Subway. And furthermore, you ain't getting a tip from me for making my sandwich.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
April 3 - Rant Of The Day
You all know what a patient person I am. (Yeah, right.) That's probably the reason I watch so many newscasts - usually all at once. I just don't have time for a commercial. That's why God invented the remote control.
Aside from Sean "won't let a person get a word in" Hannity and Glen "the world is coming to an end" Beck, I generally like the news coverage on Fox. I don't mind getting a balanced dose of views. In fact, I enjoy Shephard Smith's evening broadcast perhaps more than any other newscast, local or national.
(As an aside, I've had a belly full of Lou Dobbs' nightly whining about illegal immigration, followed by Nancy Grace's 737th show in a row on the trial of Casey Anthony on CNN. But that's another blog.)
So, the other morning I was flipping through the news shows and landed on Fox, where the news anchors were outraged (as usual) by how thoroughly non-conservative and non-traditional something ridiculous was. It was probably followed immediately by a thought provoking story on the world's largest ball of twine.
I can't remember exactly what they were talking about. I just remember that all three of the morning anchors were outraged over the non-traditionalism of it all. That's when I noticed that the blond anchorwoman they always have wedged between the two suit-clad men on the sofa was tugging at her skirt trying to keep from flashing the camera with her baby maker.
Has anyone noticed that they profess to be so "conservative" and "traditional", but the woman on the morning news can barely keep her boobs from popping out? Meanwhile, it's not like the guys are sitting there with their shirts unbuttoned. In fact, their neckties couldn't be any tighter. Meanwhile, "tootsie-bell" has had to learn to walk with her legs crossed because she has been sitting that way for so long, her legs are stuck.
Do I sense a little hypocrisy on the morning set of Fox News? Can you all over there at Fox please let your female morning anchor put some clothes on? I really don't want to have to be able to tell when she is due for her next bikini wax.
Aside from Sean "won't let a person get a word in" Hannity and Glen "the world is coming to an end" Beck, I generally like the news coverage on Fox. I don't mind getting a balanced dose of views. In fact, I enjoy Shephard Smith's evening broadcast perhaps more than any other newscast, local or national.
(As an aside, I've had a belly full of Lou Dobbs' nightly whining about illegal immigration, followed by Nancy Grace's 737th show in a row on the trial of Casey Anthony on CNN. But that's another blog.)
So, the other morning I was flipping through the news shows and landed on Fox, where the news anchors were outraged (as usual) by how thoroughly non-conservative and non-traditional something ridiculous was. It was probably followed immediately by a thought provoking story on the world's largest ball of twine.
I can't remember exactly what they were talking about. I just remember that all three of the morning anchors were outraged over the non-traditionalism of it all. That's when I noticed that the blond anchorwoman they always have wedged between the two suit-clad men on the sofa was tugging at her skirt trying to keep from flashing the camera with her baby maker.
Has anyone noticed that they profess to be so "conservative" and "traditional", but the woman on the morning news can barely keep her boobs from popping out? Meanwhile, it's not like the guys are sitting there with their shirts unbuttoned. In fact, their neckties couldn't be any tighter. Meanwhile, "tootsie-bell" has had to learn to walk with her legs crossed because she has been sitting that way for so long, her legs are stuck.
Do I sense a little hypocrisy on the morning set of Fox News? Can you all over there at Fox please let your female morning anchor put some clothes on? I really don't want to have to be able to tell when she is due for her next bikini wax.
April 2 - Rant Of The Day
Those of you who are grammar freaks will be the first to point out that my blog is often full of typographical errors. We all make mistakes and they should be overlooked, especially when reading casual writing. That's not what this rant is about. But what is with the people who make signs or send out "professional" documents where every plural word contains an apostrophe? Argh!
A few days ago I received a copy of a document that had been distributed by my company to all of its thousands of internal and external clients. The word "fee's" appeared in that document no less than fifty times over the course of thirty pages. This is not an exaggeration.
I am so tired of seeing signs that read something like, "Three Taco's For 99 Cents"!
The fact that some people get confused about when to use the apostrophe is not the part that bothers me. What really gets my goat is the fact that these widely distributed documents and professionally printed signs and banners must have been read by multitudes of idiots who were either too stupid, too lazy, or to embarrassed to tell the author about their mistake. How many proofreaders, typesetters (if there is still such a thing), graphic designers, and printers could possibly look at this and not notice?
Please people. There is no apostrophe in a word that is intended to be plural. So knock it off.
A few days ago I received a copy of a document that had been distributed by my company to all of its thousands of internal and external clients. The word "fee's" appeared in that document no less than fifty times over the course of thirty pages. This is not an exaggeration.
I am so tired of seeing signs that read something like, "Three Taco's For 99 Cents"!
The fact that some people get confused about when to use the apostrophe is not the part that bothers me. What really gets my goat is the fact that these widely distributed documents and professionally printed signs and banners must have been read by multitudes of idiots who were either too stupid, too lazy, or to embarrassed to tell the author about their mistake. How many proofreaders, typesetters (if there is still such a thing), graphic designers, and printers could possibly look at this and not notice?
Please people. There is no apostrophe in a word that is intended to be plural. So knock it off.
April 1 - Rant Of The Day
It's my blog and nobody reads it anyway, so I intend to post a new blog every single day this month where I get to crab and moan about something that makes me crazy. It's what I do best anyway. Since today is April Fool's Day, I'd like to start of with holidays and other specially designated days, especially those created within the last hundred years or so.
Why do we have designated days where we are made to feel as if we have done something wrong simply by not participating? Why do we have to buy flowers on Valentine's day? Why do we have to wear green on St. Patrick's Day? Why do we have to take our mothers out to eat on Mother's day? And why don't I get any credit for doing these things all year long? I took my mother to breakfast just a few days ago. Didn't that count for anything? I took Paul to the mountains to stay overnight in a hotel last weekend. Can I get Valentine's day credit? I'm sick of feeling pressured to buy or do something just because some day on the calendar says I have to.
Let's face it, it's mostly the women among us who keep these pressures at the forefront. While I'm on the subject, ladies, what is with the greeting cards and potlucks? When is the last time a bunch of guys got together to have a potluck? Ever have a man come into your office with a greeting card for you to sign, that was not purchased by a woman?
Ladies, it is not necessary to buy a greeting card every time a co-worker has has a birthday. A simple spoken, "Happy Birthday" will suffice. The same goes for potlucks. I would much rather have a short phone call or email from my friends and family on my birthday, than a whole table full of homemade macaroni salad.
I recommend the following remedy: Take your mother out for a meal and do something nice for her whenever you can. Don't wait for Mother's day. Buy your better half some flowers on a Tuesday in April for no reason. Don't wait for Valentine's day. Call your friends and family once a month to say hello and wish them well. Don't wait for a birthday. And please stop making me feel guilty for not bringing a covered dish every time someone sneezes!
Why do we have designated days where we are made to feel as if we have done something wrong simply by not participating? Why do we have to buy flowers on Valentine's day? Why do we have to wear green on St. Patrick's Day? Why do we have to take our mothers out to eat on Mother's day? And why don't I get any credit for doing these things all year long? I took my mother to breakfast just a few days ago. Didn't that count for anything? I took Paul to the mountains to stay overnight in a hotel last weekend. Can I get Valentine's day credit? I'm sick of feeling pressured to buy or do something just because some day on the calendar says I have to.
Let's face it, it's mostly the women among us who keep these pressures at the forefront. While I'm on the subject, ladies, what is with the greeting cards and potlucks? When is the last time a bunch of guys got together to have a potluck? Ever have a man come into your office with a greeting card for you to sign, that was not purchased by a woman?
Ladies, it is not necessary to buy a greeting card every time a co-worker has has a birthday. A simple spoken, "Happy Birthday" will suffice. The same goes for potlucks. I would much rather have a short phone call or email from my friends and family on my birthday, than a whole table full of homemade macaroni salad.
I recommend the following remedy: Take your mother out for a meal and do something nice for her whenever you can. Don't wait for Mother's day. Buy your better half some flowers on a Tuesday in April for no reason. Don't wait for Valentine's day. Call your friends and family once a month to say hello and wish them well. Don't wait for a birthday. And please stop making me feel guilty for not bringing a covered dish every time someone sneezes!
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