I took this song title from The Rolling Stones. I keep making jokes that the Stones will be soon touring in wheel chairs, yet every time they launch yet another world circuit, they never cease to amaze me how good they are. This title isn't from one of their better tunes, as always, that's not what I'm writing about, so it doesn't really matter.
In previous posts, I've stated my feelings about some of the clothing styles of the moment. This is another such tirade. For some peculair reason, hooded sweat shirts have become all the rage. These have been around for as long as I can remember, and I'm over half a century old. To me, hoods have always been a mark of dipshitness. When I was in my twenties, I wanted a leather jacket and went to several department stores looking for something to give me a "tough guy" mystique. The fact that I'm grossly underweight and couldn't intimidate a fruit fly, had nothing to do with the fact that I liked the way they looked. The jackets offered by department stores like Macy's, were very conservative. They seemed to be geared towards yuppie, brief case toting, business types. I started going to boutique shops in hopes of finding a cool jacket that fit my thin frame. On once such venture, a store clerk saw me poking through the merchandise and came over to offer assistance.
" May I help you?" He asked.
" Yes, I'm looking for a leather jacket" I explained.
" Do you want one with a hood?" He asked. The look on my face probably said more than I could have. I envisioned the Hell's Angels motoring through a town on their Harley's when a sudden rain started falling, so they all pull off the road to put up their hoods. The nurdness factor is off the charts. So now we've got a whole generation that walks around with their hoods up, and it's supposed to be cool. I'm not buying it! Even more preposterous is that, once these clowns get out of the weather, they leave the hoods up. I hang out at a local branch of Hooters, and seeing a hooded twerp shoving a hamburger into the void covered by the cloth that won't keep you dry in the rain, is like going to a geriatric Ku Klux Klan meeting. The intimidation fact or is: Zero. Even the name is one that doesn't inspire any emotion.
Hoodie. How cute is that? It sounds like a something adults say when they're around a newborn baby, " Ohhhhh, look at little baby Johnny, isn't he sweet. Look at those darling little fingers. Yes Johnny, that's such a cute little hoodie you've got on, ohhh yesss, you're soooooo cute..." Try to picture a stereotype bully walking into a store and asking to check out the Hoodies, it's a stretch. The girlyness is extreme. Am I the only person with in possession of any testosterone on the planet? I'd rather be tortured than have to wear one, let alone try to buy one.
In the form vs. function category, they do have their place. Worn underneath a jacket that will stop wind, they can keep you fairly warm, but on the other hand, so can lots of other more macho looking outerwear. So I think people who wear hoodies need to examine their wadrobe a bit carefullly, unless robbery is part of their agenda.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Changes
I'm a "Baby Boomer", born in 1955, schooled in the '60's and out on my own in the '70's. Actually not, I graduated from college in January of '79. It wasn't until my grandparents decided to sell the house we lived in, that my parents were looking at houses they could afford in the mid 80's. At the time I was working at a local radio station, and averaging five hours of sleep a day. The houses my parents could afford were further away, and if I moved with them, my sleep time would have lessened, so I decided that I wanted to live under my own rules. My folks didn't really like my lifestyle, so it was time to get away. I chose the David Bowie song title for this blog, since the 70's were when I was getting itchy to get out from under the wings of my overbearing parents.
As a single male, one of the things I had to do was learn to prepare meals for myself. I think I suceeded at that point. When I was in high school, there were cooking classes called Home Economics, or "Home Ec". Any guys who took that class were immediately suspect of being "fruity". Of course nobody ever questioned why so many of the great chefs are men, or accused them of being gay. Also, where better to meet women, than in cooking classes? Alas, I wasn't that sharp in those days and missed all the fun. I had to do it the Trial & Error way. Being a diabetic, meal preparation has always been a crucial point of survival. The fact that I'm still alive leads me to believe that I've been at least partially sucessful. In my younger years, I was also driving, so I had more time to prepare meals before dashing off to work. One of the easiest meals to fix was also one of the healthiest...oatmeal. It wasn't rocket science, if you wanted a cup of oatmeal, you boiled two cups of water, added the meal, stirred, put it in a bowl, added milk and sweetener and voila, you were done.
Lately things have changed. I've restarted eating oatmeal after a long hiatus, and if I add one cup of oatmeal to two cups of water, I get...runny, drippy, gruel. How have oats mutated to cause this phenomenon? Why all of a sudden ( maybe it isn't so sudden, maybe I just never noticed) has oatmeal required less water to get a consistent density? Why do the instructions tell you to add too much water? Don't they have people who test these minute details out? Does all the world except for me eat sloppy, runny, oatmeal? I'm really stunned by this development. I've refined my oatmeal making procedures, I now add 3/4 of a cup of oatmeal to 1 cup of water and things work fine. So I'm able to adapt, but why has oatmeal been reduced to an unappetizing slop? I thought they want people to be "heart healthy". Does the rest of the civilized world really eat oatmeal this way? Am I the deviate as opposed to the norm? I wish that somebody would explain this to me, but since nobody reads these bloggy bits, I'm betting that I don't get any answers, leaving me to just wonder...
As a single male, one of the things I had to do was learn to prepare meals for myself. I think I suceeded at that point. When I was in high school, there were cooking classes called Home Economics, or "Home Ec". Any guys who took that class were immediately suspect of being "fruity". Of course nobody ever questioned why so many of the great chefs are men, or accused them of being gay. Also, where better to meet women, than in cooking classes? Alas, I wasn't that sharp in those days and missed all the fun. I had to do it the Trial & Error way. Being a diabetic, meal preparation has always been a crucial point of survival. The fact that I'm still alive leads me to believe that I've been at least partially sucessful. In my younger years, I was also driving, so I had more time to prepare meals before dashing off to work. One of the easiest meals to fix was also one of the healthiest...oatmeal. It wasn't rocket science, if you wanted a cup of oatmeal, you boiled two cups of water, added the meal, stirred, put it in a bowl, added milk and sweetener and voila, you were done.
Lately things have changed. I've restarted eating oatmeal after a long hiatus, and if I add one cup of oatmeal to two cups of water, I get...runny, drippy, gruel. How have oats mutated to cause this phenomenon? Why all of a sudden ( maybe it isn't so sudden, maybe I just never noticed) has oatmeal required less water to get a consistent density? Why do the instructions tell you to add too much water? Don't they have people who test these minute details out? Does all the world except for me eat sloppy, runny, oatmeal? I'm really stunned by this development. I've refined my oatmeal making procedures, I now add 3/4 of a cup of oatmeal to 1 cup of water and things work fine. So I'm able to adapt, but why has oatmeal been reduced to an unappetizing slop? I thought they want people to be "heart healthy". Does the rest of the civilized world really eat oatmeal this way? Am I the deviate as opposed to the norm? I wish that somebody would explain this to me, but since nobody reads these bloggy bits, I'm betting that I don't get any answers, leaving me to just wonder...
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
When I Write The Book
It didn't take long, but once again I've ripped-off another title from the '80's. This one is from Nick Lowe's band Rockpile. It's a shame they didn't have more than one album, a band with Lowe, Dave Edmunds & Billy Bremner is a winner by my standards. In any case, they came and went like a fart in a summer breeze, leaving me with this title as a lead-in to my thoughts...
As a person who'se pretty creative, but a rotten businessman, I've spent many hours dreaming up all kinds of bizarro ideas. When my last girlfriend split, also back in the '80's, I was so irate, that I sat down at I think it was a typewriter and just started pounding out my thoughts. After writing several pages, I realized what a waste of time and paper it was, because nobody would have any interest in reading any of it. My friends weren't the literate type, reading was something they had to do in school, it wasn't something one did for relaxation, enjoyment and to become more informed. So pawning my attempts at literary freedom off on any of them was like pissing into a gale force wind. So I channeled my lack of prowess winning women's hearts into a more marketable medium, a novel. I wrote, rewrote, edited and rewrote some more. I finally ended up with what I considered to be something pretty decent. I had zero knowledge on how to submit works to be published. I thought one just mailed copies of their manuscripts to the various publishing companies and hoped they got lucky. That would have been easy compared to the bitter reality of it all. I bought a subscription to Writer's Digest, in hopes that would give me some insight as to the process of getting something published. Boy, was I naive!
At the time I was working at a car stereo shop, and making about fifteen grand a year. I found several "Publishers" that catered to unknown writers in the magazine, and submitted my work to them. One sent back a reply that stated that the plot was interesting, the characters were memorable and for fourteen thousand, seven hundred and fifty dollars they would publish and print up one thousand copies of my book, the marketing was up to me. Am I crazy for not taking that super offer? My sister had friends who worked for Proof Reading companies. They were essentially the same thing, charging a fee to read and critique new "talents". She told me that most of the people were crack-whores who hated their lives, and wrote novels about crack-whores who hated their lives. Hmmmmm, that's a stretch. But one thing she also said was, they never told the people who submitted their tales of woe that the work was no good, they took the money and coached them on ways they could improve their manuscripts. Kindling came to my mind.
As time progressed and I bounced from one job ot the next, I ended up working at a concession at the local thoroghbred racetrack renting binoculars. It was the late eighties at that point and televsion sets were replacing field glasses as the preferred way to view the races, so I had a lot of down-time. I brought my old computer to the track and used that to write and rewrite several sequels to my first unpublished novel. Now I've got a whole series of works that nobody has ever read. Wow! The '90s came and went, and I watched my income slowly diminish as fewer and fewer people attended the races. This allowed me more time to write. I still think that my work could be sold, but getting it to the attention of anyone with clout is a talent that I don't possess. In the 2000's I decided to try E-Publishing, figuring that anything is better than nothing. It turns out that most works submitted for on-line reading must be in the format of Microsoft Word. As my luck would have it, I used Corel Wordperfect. I got my program at a computer show for thirty dollars, so I figured that if I had to buy a new word processor program, it might set me back $49.95 or something like that. Boy, was I ever wrong!
Microsoft Word is still in the two hundred dollar range. Even if I could afford that, I don't think I'd contribute to the Bill Gates's Offspring College Fund. I have no idea why it is so damn expensive, or what features I get with it that make it so much more valuable than the Corel or Brand-X word processing programs. So as I sit here typing out a blog that nobody will read, I wonder if my novels are really unintersting to everyone except myself, or if I'm sitting on an unopened treasure chest? I know that I don't read other people's blogs, so it isn't unexpected that nobody would read mine. If I had friends that read, it would be one thing to send them the links to my mental farts, but I think that most of it would fall into their definition of "spam".
On the plus side, my fingers will never be obese.
As a person who'se pretty creative, but a rotten businessman, I've spent many hours dreaming up all kinds of bizarro ideas. When my last girlfriend split, also back in the '80's, I was so irate, that I sat down at I think it was a typewriter and just started pounding out my thoughts. After writing several pages, I realized what a waste of time and paper it was, because nobody would have any interest in reading any of it. My friends weren't the literate type, reading was something they had to do in school, it wasn't something one did for relaxation, enjoyment and to become more informed. So pawning my attempts at literary freedom off on any of them was like pissing into a gale force wind. So I channeled my lack of prowess winning women's hearts into a more marketable medium, a novel. I wrote, rewrote, edited and rewrote some more. I finally ended up with what I considered to be something pretty decent. I had zero knowledge on how to submit works to be published. I thought one just mailed copies of their manuscripts to the various publishing companies and hoped they got lucky. That would have been easy compared to the bitter reality of it all. I bought a subscription to Writer's Digest, in hopes that would give me some insight as to the process of getting something published. Boy, was I naive!
At the time I was working at a car stereo shop, and making about fifteen grand a year. I found several "Publishers" that catered to unknown writers in the magazine, and submitted my work to them. One sent back a reply that stated that the plot was interesting, the characters were memorable and for fourteen thousand, seven hundred and fifty dollars they would publish and print up one thousand copies of my book, the marketing was up to me. Am I crazy for not taking that super offer? My sister had friends who worked for Proof Reading companies. They were essentially the same thing, charging a fee to read and critique new "talents". She told me that most of the people were crack-whores who hated their lives, and wrote novels about crack-whores who hated their lives. Hmmmmm, that's a stretch. But one thing she also said was, they never told the people who submitted their tales of woe that the work was no good, they took the money and coached them on ways they could improve their manuscripts. Kindling came to my mind.
As time progressed and I bounced from one job ot the next, I ended up working at a concession at the local thoroghbred racetrack renting binoculars. It was the late eighties at that point and televsion sets were replacing field glasses as the preferred way to view the races, so I had a lot of down-time. I brought my old computer to the track and used that to write and rewrite several sequels to my first unpublished novel. Now I've got a whole series of works that nobody has ever read. Wow! The '90s came and went, and I watched my income slowly diminish as fewer and fewer people attended the races. This allowed me more time to write. I still think that my work could be sold, but getting it to the attention of anyone with clout is a talent that I don't possess. In the 2000's I decided to try E-Publishing, figuring that anything is better than nothing. It turns out that most works submitted for on-line reading must be in the format of Microsoft Word. As my luck would have it, I used Corel Wordperfect. I got my program at a computer show for thirty dollars, so I figured that if I had to buy a new word processor program, it might set me back $49.95 or something like that. Boy, was I ever wrong!
Microsoft Word is still in the two hundred dollar range. Even if I could afford that, I don't think I'd contribute to the Bill Gates's Offspring College Fund. I have no idea why it is so damn expensive, or what features I get with it that make it so much more valuable than the Corel or Brand-X word processing programs. So as I sit here typing out a blog that nobody will read, I wonder if my novels are really unintersting to everyone except myself, or if I'm sitting on an unopened treasure chest? I know that I don't read other people's blogs, so it isn't unexpected that nobody would read mine. If I had friends that read, it would be one thing to send them the links to my mental farts, but I think that most of it would fall into their definition of "spam".
On the plus side, my fingers will never be obese.
The End
My sister recently e-mailed me a list of the worst Rock & Roll songs put out by Rolling Stone Magazine. Of course, many of them were songs that I liked. One was the tune by The Doors,
" The End" closely associated with the movie, " Apocalypse Now". I'll agree that it's not one of Jim Morrison & Company's best tunes, but how it ended up in the worst of all time is beyond me. At least it's not a ditty from the '80's.
Today I'm writing about a televsion show that's been getting a slew of great reviews. "Terminator, The Sarah Connor Chronicles" First of all, it's on Fox, which makes me leery from the get-go. I sat through an episode of this allegedly good show and had to make some observations. First of all, I liked the 1980's movie that it' based on. The sequel was also pretty cool. By the third installment, I was getting sick of it. I like things with a beginning, a middle and an end. It was clear that there was no END in sight! The "Terminator" series is a money maker, and nobody wants to stop making money, even if integrity suffers. "Terminator 3" wasn't bad, but it was painfully obvious that it was being milked for all it was worth, and that irritated me.
Getting back to the Fox series, I HATED it! The character, Sarah Connor was a babe played by Linda Hamilton. The television "cheap imitation" is nowhere near as cute or charismatic as the first Sarah Connor. Secondly, the first movie took place in the '80's, so now why are Sarah, her son and a teenage female terminator that's on their side, suddenly living in the present without having aged? Even worse, why is Sarah Connor no longer a blonde? Does she think a dye job will make her harder for a cyborg to recognize? The whole time-travel aspect of the premise is like a lame excuse to explain everything that's inexplicable. Maybe I'm being too harsh, since I didn't see the series from the onset, but what I saw did NOT make me want to see more. It, like most other television series, dragged things out to the point of being tedious. I'm sure there are legions of fans out there who love the show and will faithfully view it, but I'm not one of them. For me, the beginning was THE END!
" The End" closely associated with the movie, " Apocalypse Now". I'll agree that it's not one of Jim Morrison & Company's best tunes, but how it ended up in the worst of all time is beyond me. At least it's not a ditty from the '80's.
Today I'm writing about a televsion show that's been getting a slew of great reviews. "Terminator, The Sarah Connor Chronicles" First of all, it's on Fox, which makes me leery from the get-go. I sat through an episode of this allegedly good show and had to make some observations. First of all, I liked the 1980's movie that it' based on. The sequel was also pretty cool. By the third installment, I was getting sick of it. I like things with a beginning, a middle and an end. It was clear that there was no END in sight! The "Terminator" series is a money maker, and nobody wants to stop making money, even if integrity suffers. "Terminator 3" wasn't bad, but it was painfully obvious that it was being milked for all it was worth, and that irritated me.
Getting back to the Fox series, I HATED it! The character, Sarah Connor was a babe played by Linda Hamilton. The television "cheap imitation" is nowhere near as cute or charismatic as the first Sarah Connor. Secondly, the first movie took place in the '80's, so now why are Sarah, her son and a teenage female terminator that's on their side, suddenly living in the present without having aged? Even worse, why is Sarah Connor no longer a blonde? Does she think a dye job will make her harder for a cyborg to recognize? The whole time-travel aspect of the premise is like a lame excuse to explain everything that's inexplicable. Maybe I'm being too harsh, since I didn't see the series from the onset, but what I saw did NOT make me want to see more. It, like most other television series, dragged things out to the point of being tedious. I'm sure there are legions of fans out there who love the show and will faithfully view it, but I'm not one of them. For me, the beginning was THE END!
Monday, February 18, 2008
I Can't Explain
Don't freak out! I used a song title from the '60's for a change. This one I 'borrowed' from The Who, and it means a lot to me, because it was one of the few Who songs I could play on my bass, without totally butchering.
The thing that I can't explain, is the rapid changes in merchandise availability. I would think that waffles are pretty much a standard type of breakfast amongst American families. But times are a changing. More and more households rely on pre-packaged, pre-mixed, pre-cooked food to eat right out of the package. I think I'm safe in saying that most households rely on more than one income to support the cost of living, so nobody has time to prepare, let alone eat a decent breakfast. Now that I'm out-of-work, I have the luxury of being able to prepare my favorite, carb-laden meals, pancakes and waffles. Unfortunately, my waffle iron has seen better days. In the baby boom years, I think waffle irons were popular house-warming and wedding gifts. Not so long ago, you'd see them in the Sunday newspaper supplements, on sale for $29.95 at any number of department stores. The iron that I use, came with a non-stick coating. After thousands of waffles, the non-stick coating lost it's repellant qualities, making it necessary to spray some form of oil on the grid to keep from fighting to get the waffles off the cooker. I like waffles that are fluffy, not the type that have ben on the grille too long and get a cardboard-like quality to them. So after using the oils to make removal easy, cleaning the iron has turned into a nightmare. I try to avoid immersing electrical equipment in water when ever possible, but not just the removable grids have gotten tarnished from the spray oil, the whole thing is a gloppy mess. It takes much longer to clean up after making the waffles than it does to prepare and eat them. This is precious time I could better utilize to look for a job, or write blogs. I finally decided to price a new waffle maker.
My first destination was Froogle.com. The implements they displayed were of the Martha Stewart caliber. As much as I love waffles, I'm not about to spend $149.99 on a machine to cook them. For that price, it should mix the batter, cook the waffles and serve them to me! If I was working, and had all the money in the universe, I see no reason to spend that much on a simple tool that could be gotten for thirty bucks two or three years ago. I next ventured over to Overstock.com. They were also poorly suited to fit my waffle addiction. Why have waffle irons gotten so damn rare and expensive? I can't explain. I'll certainly try though. As I mentioned earlier on, everybody's rushing to get somewhere, so taking time out to prepare a meal is a rarity. Popping an Eggo Toaster Waffle into the microwave is a far cry faster and easier than dragging out all the ingredients and fixing them yourself. Of course I don't think there's any comparison to how they taste. Since I'm a diabetic, I've devised a special formula to the mix, in order to help me deal with the wimpy tasting sugar-free syrups that are flooding the market. The fact that I often add fruit to the mix also has contributed to the demise of my waffle iron.
I suppose that I could try one of those liquidator outlets to see what they have to offer. I suppose I should hustle, there may be a run on the market, when all the carbo-junkies go out looking to score these much prized works.
The thing that I can't explain, is the rapid changes in merchandise availability. I would think that waffles are pretty much a standard type of breakfast amongst American families. But times are a changing. More and more households rely on pre-packaged, pre-mixed, pre-cooked food to eat right out of the package. I think I'm safe in saying that most households rely on more than one income to support the cost of living, so nobody has time to prepare, let alone eat a decent breakfast. Now that I'm out-of-work, I have the luxury of being able to prepare my favorite, carb-laden meals, pancakes and waffles. Unfortunately, my waffle iron has seen better days. In the baby boom years, I think waffle irons were popular house-warming and wedding gifts. Not so long ago, you'd see them in the Sunday newspaper supplements, on sale for $29.95 at any number of department stores. The iron that I use, came with a non-stick coating. After thousands of waffles, the non-stick coating lost it's repellant qualities, making it necessary to spray some form of oil on the grid to keep from fighting to get the waffles off the cooker. I like waffles that are fluffy, not the type that have ben on the grille too long and get a cardboard-like quality to them. So after using the oils to make removal easy, cleaning the iron has turned into a nightmare. I try to avoid immersing electrical equipment in water when ever possible, but not just the removable grids have gotten tarnished from the spray oil, the whole thing is a gloppy mess. It takes much longer to clean up after making the waffles than it does to prepare and eat them. This is precious time I could better utilize to look for a job, or write blogs. I finally decided to price a new waffle maker.
My first destination was Froogle.com. The implements they displayed were of the Martha Stewart caliber. As much as I love waffles, I'm not about to spend $149.99 on a machine to cook them. For that price, it should mix the batter, cook the waffles and serve them to me! If I was working, and had all the money in the universe, I see no reason to spend that much on a simple tool that could be gotten for thirty bucks two or three years ago. I next ventured over to Overstock.com. They were also poorly suited to fit my waffle addiction. Why have waffle irons gotten so damn rare and expensive? I can't explain. I'll certainly try though. As I mentioned earlier on, everybody's rushing to get somewhere, so taking time out to prepare a meal is a rarity. Popping an Eggo Toaster Waffle into the microwave is a far cry faster and easier than dragging out all the ingredients and fixing them yourself. Of course I don't think there's any comparison to how they taste. Since I'm a diabetic, I've devised a special formula to the mix, in order to help me deal with the wimpy tasting sugar-free syrups that are flooding the market. The fact that I often add fruit to the mix also has contributed to the demise of my waffle iron.
I suppose that I could try one of those liquidator outlets to see what they have to offer. I suppose I should hustle, there may be a run on the market, when all the carbo-junkies go out looking to score these much prized works.
Middle Of The Road
Yep, I'm going back to the '80's once again. This title I swiped from The Pretenders. Since music was once a critical part of my lifestyle, I always try to use a song title for my posts. This in itself isn't always easy. The first song that popped into my mind was, "Stuck In The Middle With You" by Stealer's Wheel. That was a '70's band that featured Jerry Rafferty as their lead man. He had a big hit with a song that I despise, "Baker Street". That's getting off on a tangent that's not at all applicable to what I'm moaning about.
I guess I was in college when some scholar came out with an analysis of "Personality Types". As far as I can recall, this genius declared that the world is divided into two personality types, Type A, and Type B. I could be mistaken, but I actually did a bit of checking before writing this, and I was unable to find any references to Type C personalities, so I think I'm safe. The Type A personality is Outgoing, Aggressive, Assertive, Dominant, Gregarious, Bold, Brash, somewhat Egotistical, and if they aren't smart...talked about alot behind their backs. The Type B is more likely to be introverted, shy, cerebral, a follower rather than a leader, analytical, observant, and considered more of an outsider. These traits aren't mutually exclusive, there's a lot of crossing the lines, and that makes it harder, and I believe less valid that this labeling system is at all accurate.
There are two people I was friendly with who I'd label Type A without hestitation. Both of them were minimally educated, but "street smart". This isn't to say that all Type As are uneducated, it's just that the two examples I know, were. From my point of view, the Type A guy is more likely to get the girl. I think that harkens back to the early stages of man, where a woman wanted a good provider to produce strong, healthy, offspring and furnish food, shelter and protection for them. I'd label Donald Trump as a Type A, and he certainly doesn't fit into the "dumb jock" category. He does seem to lean heavily towards the obnoxious factor however.
I have a hard time categorizing myself, I think I'm somewhere in the middle. I certainly am not aggressive all the time, but I do have a competitive spark in me. I'm not a good loser, I want to win and when I don't, I used to let it bother me. It's only in my later years that I could easily shrug off a poor result of something I tried. I am not outgoing, but on the other hand, I did wangle a job as a disc jockey at a radio station out of sheer perseverance. I've done stand-up comedy, which isn't for the Shrinking Violets among us. I've bullshitted my way into jobs that I was marginally qualified for. I don't think those are features generally associated with Type B people.
I once had a girlfriend call me, " A disposable person". At the time it was early in our relationship, and I just took it as a joke, a jibe, a teasing comment. But more and more I really think she hit the nail on the head. When I look back at the people I hung out with, I was never the center of attention. One day we were hanging out at a small park, when another member of the group showed up and announced, " We were just over at the sandpits. They leave the keys in the trucks and we were driving them around..." One of the group who I was with turned to another and said, " Ya wanna go over there and drive the trucks?"
" Yeah, let's call Mark and Woody and have a demolition derby!" And the plot was devised. I didn't have to say, " Can I go too?" because it was just assumed that I was a part of the plan. However, if the same scenario arose and I wasn't on hand, the sentence, "Yeah, let's call Mark and Woody and Tony, and we'll have a demolition derby" would never have been spoken. When I was out of sight, I was truly out of mind. After numerous incidents similar to that, I asked myself, " Why am I trying so hard to hang out with people who don't give a shit about me?". I decided that I didn't need them, and I stopped going where I knew they'd be, or calling up on Friday night to ask what was going on. The results, I spent a lot of time alone. I've drifted through several groups of crowds I've hung with, and things always seem to turn out the same. I get along with them when I'm there, but once I'm gone, I'm forgotten. I don't enjoy being a loner, I'd much rather be a socialite, but since I've never found a spot where I fit in, I've decided not to force my way into a group, because that only fuels resentment. Maybe I should found a Type C Club, for all the people who don't quite fit the mold of the two types that are accepted. The only problem with that is, I think that eventually I'd be ignored, cast aside and forgotten.
I guess I was in college when some scholar came out with an analysis of "Personality Types". As far as I can recall, this genius declared that the world is divided into two personality types, Type A, and Type B. I could be mistaken, but I actually did a bit of checking before writing this, and I was unable to find any references to Type C personalities, so I think I'm safe. The Type A personality is Outgoing, Aggressive, Assertive, Dominant, Gregarious, Bold, Brash, somewhat Egotistical, and if they aren't smart...talked about alot behind their backs. The Type B is more likely to be introverted, shy, cerebral, a follower rather than a leader, analytical, observant, and considered more of an outsider. These traits aren't mutually exclusive, there's a lot of crossing the lines, and that makes it harder, and I believe less valid that this labeling system is at all accurate.
There are two people I was friendly with who I'd label Type A without hestitation. Both of them were minimally educated, but "street smart". This isn't to say that all Type As are uneducated, it's just that the two examples I know, were. From my point of view, the Type A guy is more likely to get the girl. I think that harkens back to the early stages of man, where a woman wanted a good provider to produce strong, healthy, offspring and furnish food, shelter and protection for them. I'd label Donald Trump as a Type A, and he certainly doesn't fit into the "dumb jock" category. He does seem to lean heavily towards the obnoxious factor however.
I have a hard time categorizing myself, I think I'm somewhere in the middle. I certainly am not aggressive all the time, but I do have a competitive spark in me. I'm not a good loser, I want to win and when I don't, I used to let it bother me. It's only in my later years that I could easily shrug off a poor result of something I tried. I am not outgoing, but on the other hand, I did wangle a job as a disc jockey at a radio station out of sheer perseverance. I've done stand-up comedy, which isn't for the Shrinking Violets among us. I've bullshitted my way into jobs that I was marginally qualified for. I don't think those are features generally associated with Type B people.
I once had a girlfriend call me, " A disposable person". At the time it was early in our relationship, and I just took it as a joke, a jibe, a teasing comment. But more and more I really think she hit the nail on the head. When I look back at the people I hung out with, I was never the center of attention. One day we were hanging out at a small park, when another member of the group showed up and announced, " We were just over at the sandpits. They leave the keys in the trucks and we were driving them around..." One of the group who I was with turned to another and said, " Ya wanna go over there and drive the trucks?"
" Yeah, let's call Mark and Woody and have a demolition derby!" And the plot was devised. I didn't have to say, " Can I go too?" because it was just assumed that I was a part of the plan. However, if the same scenario arose and I wasn't on hand, the sentence, "Yeah, let's call Mark and Woody and Tony, and we'll have a demolition derby" would never have been spoken. When I was out of sight, I was truly out of mind. After numerous incidents similar to that, I asked myself, " Why am I trying so hard to hang out with people who don't give a shit about me?". I decided that I didn't need them, and I stopped going where I knew they'd be, or calling up on Friday night to ask what was going on. The results, I spent a lot of time alone. I've drifted through several groups of crowds I've hung with, and things always seem to turn out the same. I get along with them when I'm there, but once I'm gone, I'm forgotten. I don't enjoy being a loner, I'd much rather be a socialite, but since I've never found a spot where I fit in, I've decided not to force my way into a group, because that only fuels resentment. Maybe I should found a Type C Club, for all the people who don't quite fit the mold of the two types that are accepted. The only problem with that is, I think that eventually I'd be ignored, cast aside and forgotten.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Love Stinks
For this post, I'm taking the title of a song by The J. Geils Band. I suppose I could use Elvis Costello's "My Funny Valentine", but Peter Wolfe sums it up better. Tomorrow is St. Valentine's Day. A day when all express their love for their partners with gifts and displays of affection. But for single people...forget about it. It's just another day, a day when everyone else rubs it in that you are alone. Sometimes it's a concious maneuver, but most of the time it's not. People are overjoyed to be loved, so they feel the need to let everyone know, whether they're interested or not.
I seem to be one of those people who's "Terminally Single". I've tried all kinds of avenues to meet attractive women, but they always seem to turn out to be dead ends. The basic problem is: that I'm attracted to the girls that everyone is attracted to. When a lady has a bevy of potential suitors to choose from, I always seem to end up pretty low down on the list. I hate to say this, but I think that romance is a dying virtue. People look at dating from all angles, and much of it is financial in nature, so that's a major strike against me.
Once, while talking on the phone to a woman who's personal ad I had responded to, she asked me, " What are you looking for?" I responded,
" I'm looking for somebody who's attractive, creative, with a sharp wit and unconventional"
" No, I mean what're you looking for?" She asked again.
" I'm looking for somebody to date, isn't that what I said?" I asked, feeling like a doofus.
" No, but what're your goals?"
" I'm looking to date somebody that I have a connection with..." I tried again, hoping that this time she got the gist of what I was looking for.
" Are you looking to get married!?" She finally spelled it out for me.
" I'm not looking to get married just for the sake of being married. I want to meet somebody special" I answered.
" Why?"
" Because I'm alone and lonely" I snapped, getting flustered with the direction the conversation had taken.
" You've gotta offer a girl more than that!"She snickered. After that, I stopped answering personal ads. I simply have nothing to offer. But human emotions don't work on that kind of logic, and years later I saw a report on the TV show, "CBS Sunday Morning" where they did a feature about the internet dating site EHarmony.com . It touted how successful they were at matching people and how many had gotten hitched since their first meeting. Their ads had a caveat stating, "If you apply now, your first contacts are free" or something along those lines. I went on line and read all the fine print, expecting to see what the cost of the set-up was. There was no mention of any prices . I decided if it was free, I'd give it a shot. There were 450 questions to be filled out. I began the process, and less than halfway through it a television show that I wanted to see came on, so I'd watch it until the commercial break, dash over to my computer, answer two or three more questiuons, dash back to the television, watch more of the show and then repeat the process. It took me forever to finish, when the results came back it said something like..." even E-Harmony.com cannot find a match for everyone". So in other words; I'm too fucking weird for even an internet dating site to find some scag to dump in my lap. What a confidence builder!
I could go on for paragraph after paragraph with dating disasters I've endured. With that in mind I just want to wish all those loving couples a Happy Valentine's Day. On February the 15th, don't go to work and recant all the tales of your undying love to the single folks who're cringing inside. It won't endear us to your tender hearts!
I seem to be one of those people who's "Terminally Single". I've tried all kinds of avenues to meet attractive women, but they always seem to turn out to be dead ends. The basic problem is: that I'm attracted to the girls that everyone is attracted to. When a lady has a bevy of potential suitors to choose from, I always seem to end up pretty low down on the list. I hate to say this, but I think that romance is a dying virtue. People look at dating from all angles, and much of it is financial in nature, so that's a major strike against me.
Once, while talking on the phone to a woman who's personal ad I had responded to, she asked me, " What are you looking for?" I responded,
" I'm looking for somebody who's attractive, creative, with a sharp wit and unconventional"
" No, I mean what're you looking for?" She asked again.
" I'm looking for somebody to date, isn't that what I said?" I asked, feeling like a doofus.
" No, but what're your goals?"
" I'm looking to date somebody that I have a connection with..." I tried again, hoping that this time she got the gist of what I was looking for.
" Are you looking to get married!?" She finally spelled it out for me.
" I'm not looking to get married just for the sake of being married. I want to meet somebody special" I answered.
" Why?"
" Because I'm alone and lonely" I snapped, getting flustered with the direction the conversation had taken.
" You've gotta offer a girl more than that!"She snickered. After that, I stopped answering personal ads. I simply have nothing to offer. But human emotions don't work on that kind of logic, and years later I saw a report on the TV show, "CBS Sunday Morning" where they did a feature about the internet dating site EHarmony.com . It touted how successful they were at matching people and how many had gotten hitched since their first meeting. Their ads had a caveat stating, "If you apply now, your first contacts are free" or something along those lines. I went on line and read all the fine print, expecting to see what the cost of the set-up was. There was no mention of any prices . I decided if it was free, I'd give it a shot. There were 450 questions to be filled out. I began the process, and less than halfway through it a television show that I wanted to see came on, so I'd watch it until the commercial break, dash over to my computer, answer two or three more questiuons, dash back to the television, watch more of the show and then repeat the process. It took me forever to finish, when the results came back it said something like..." even E-Harmony.com cannot find a match for everyone". So in other words; I'm too fucking weird for even an internet dating site to find some scag to dump in my lap. What a confidence builder!
I could go on for paragraph after paragraph with dating disasters I've endured. With that in mind I just want to wish all those loving couples a Happy Valentine's Day. On February the 15th, don't go to work and recant all the tales of your undying love to the single folks who're cringing inside. It won't endear us to your tender hearts!
Got Alot On My Head
This is a song title I swiped from one of the better '80s bands, The Cars. I'm not a "fashionista". I like the clothing styles of my youth more than what's available today. I believe that my underwear looks better beneath my clothes, rather than having my pants slung around my ankles so everybody can see my, big, brightly colored boxers. I'm funny that way. Hats are a negative in my book. Sure, they serve a purpose and I believe in form following function. It's okay to wear "lid", "skypiece", "topper", "cover", "copter" or whatever other slang term you want to apply to keep your ears warm or your hair dry. As a fashion statement, hats suck! Most of them are ugly, and anybody who chooses to wear them must have a truly hideous looking head if they want to keep it under wraps.
I DO wear hats, however. In cold weather the capilaries in the skin on your noggin don't recede the way they do on other parts of the body, so it's possible to lose a large amount of body heat through the head. I used to work at the New York thoroughbred racetracks, and as an enticement to get people to show up, they'd have give-aways. Most of the trinkets they dispensed were cheap items, like t-shirts and...( dont' tell me you didn't see this coming)...hats. These are baseball cap styled bonnets that were extremely cheesey. The portion that covered the head was usually small, so it almost resembled a Yarmulke with a brim. I usually ended up with more than one of these junkers, and I'd keep one in my backpack in the event of rain. On one such weather related occasion, I dug out my cap and went to the bus stop. I kept noticing a peculiar odor. I checked to make sure that I hadn't stepped in anything unwanted, glanced around to see if I was near a dumpster, and sureptitiously took a whiff under my arms. They were all fine. When I got home I hung my jacket and cap on the newel post and went about my regular activities. Remembering that I'd forgotten to pickup a chance at the Mega-Million lottery, I grabbed my cap and flipped it onto my head. It was then that I caught another whiff of the dank odor, it was the hat that smelled. I tossed it aside and grabbed another from my closet and went out. Once I got back from the local 7-11, the second hat also stunk. It seems that these hats once moistened, get quite odoriferous. They also DON'T keep your head dry. Fine lot of good that does, " I want a hat that only is useful on days when it's not needed!". I smelled like a hamper in the high school gym locker room, where all the damp, musty towels were tossed, to ferment into a sickly aroma.
After that discovery, I went to a camping catalog and searched for a waterproof hat. I found one that was reasonably priced and not overly unappealing looking. With shipping, it came to about sixteen dollars. This hat served me well for many months, and I happened to lose it about two weeks ago. I went nuts going through on-line sites looking for another. It seems that most hats are worn for style, as opposed to protection from the elements. The kids today like wearing baseball caps, with the brim which is designed to keep the sun out of your eyes, backwards, or skewed sideways. Why don't they just get those doofy looking caps that fisermen wear? Those have brims that go all the way around, so no matter which way you put it on, the sun still won't get in your eyes. Form vs. function.
It is also de rigeur for today's youth to tote their goodies around in a back pack. Most will loosen the straps to extreme points, so they're easier to slip ones' arms in and out of them. I don't have any problem with that, except...it causes the pack to droop low on the body creating stress on the lower lumbar region of the back. Ages of camping/hiking wisdom has taught me that it's best to put the heaviest items as close to the body as possible and then tighten the straps so the pack is firm against the owners' back. This keeps the weight close in, and makes it easier to move about without having the weight of the pack offset your balance. But that's not what I'm bitching about, the thing that surprises the hell out of me is: that the backpack industry has to be a multi-million dollar a year business, yet try finding a backpack that's water proof. I've had many newspapers, records and other items I lug around get ruined because my pack leaked in the rain. There are water repellant packs out there, but they're designed to use when scaling Mt. Everest and the cost is nearly as high. With all of todays high-tech fabrics and materials, why can't an affordable back pack be made that will keep kids' school books from getting drenched in the walk from the bus stop to the front door of the house? What's even more perplexing is that many packs DO use water resistant fabric, but the zippers allow water to drip in, so when you get inside out of the elements, you open up your pack to find that your posessions are swimming in a pack that allows water in, but it doesn't seep out. Brilliant designing there, all of you portable tote engineers. Maybe one of these geniuses can design a pack that can be worn on the head, so today's kids can fill them up and wear them backwards or sideways.
I DO wear hats, however. In cold weather the capilaries in the skin on your noggin don't recede the way they do on other parts of the body, so it's possible to lose a large amount of body heat through the head. I used to work at the New York thoroughbred racetracks, and as an enticement to get people to show up, they'd have give-aways. Most of the trinkets they dispensed were cheap items, like t-shirts and...( dont' tell me you didn't see this coming)...hats. These are baseball cap styled bonnets that were extremely cheesey. The portion that covered the head was usually small, so it almost resembled a Yarmulke with a brim. I usually ended up with more than one of these junkers, and I'd keep one in my backpack in the event of rain. On one such weather related occasion, I dug out my cap and went to the bus stop. I kept noticing a peculiar odor. I checked to make sure that I hadn't stepped in anything unwanted, glanced around to see if I was near a dumpster, and sureptitiously took a whiff under my arms. They were all fine. When I got home I hung my jacket and cap on the newel post and went about my regular activities. Remembering that I'd forgotten to pickup a chance at the Mega-Million lottery, I grabbed my cap and flipped it onto my head. It was then that I caught another whiff of the dank odor, it was the hat that smelled. I tossed it aside and grabbed another from my closet and went out. Once I got back from the local 7-11, the second hat also stunk. It seems that these hats once moistened, get quite odoriferous. They also DON'T keep your head dry. Fine lot of good that does, " I want a hat that only is useful on days when it's not needed!". I smelled like a hamper in the high school gym locker room, where all the damp, musty towels were tossed, to ferment into a sickly aroma.
After that discovery, I went to a camping catalog and searched for a waterproof hat. I found one that was reasonably priced and not overly unappealing looking. With shipping, it came to about sixteen dollars. This hat served me well for many months, and I happened to lose it about two weeks ago. I went nuts going through on-line sites looking for another. It seems that most hats are worn for style, as opposed to protection from the elements. The kids today like wearing baseball caps, with the brim which is designed to keep the sun out of your eyes, backwards, or skewed sideways. Why don't they just get those doofy looking caps that fisermen wear? Those have brims that go all the way around, so no matter which way you put it on, the sun still won't get in your eyes. Form vs. function.
It is also de rigeur for today's youth to tote their goodies around in a back pack. Most will loosen the straps to extreme points, so they're easier to slip ones' arms in and out of them. I don't have any problem with that, except...it causes the pack to droop low on the body creating stress on the lower lumbar region of the back. Ages of camping/hiking wisdom has taught me that it's best to put the heaviest items as close to the body as possible and then tighten the straps so the pack is firm against the owners' back. This keeps the weight close in, and makes it easier to move about without having the weight of the pack offset your balance. But that's not what I'm bitching about, the thing that surprises the hell out of me is: that the backpack industry has to be a multi-million dollar a year business, yet try finding a backpack that's water proof. I've had many newspapers, records and other items I lug around get ruined because my pack leaked in the rain. There are water repellant packs out there, but they're designed to use when scaling Mt. Everest and the cost is nearly as high. With all of todays high-tech fabrics and materials, why can't an affordable back pack be made that will keep kids' school books from getting drenched in the walk from the bus stop to the front door of the house? What's even more perplexing is that many packs DO use water resistant fabric, but the zippers allow water to drip in, so when you get inside out of the elements, you open up your pack to find that your posessions are swimming in a pack that allows water in, but it doesn't seep out. Brilliant designing there, all of you portable tote engineers. Maybe one of these geniuses can design a pack that can be worn on the head, so today's kids can fill them up and wear them backwards or sideways.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Kill The King
Today is the day that the much touted Grammy awards are being announced. I've never been a fan of Grammy's because the music I like, isn't what the masses like. I buy music because it strikes a personal note with me, and I don't care who else likes or dislikes it. There are some automatons out there who like whatever is popular and their tastes shift with popular opinion. I borrowed this song title from Rainbow, when Ronnie James Dio was still their lead singer.
I personally am not a fan of Elvis Presley. I don't consider him to be the king of anything except White Trash garish behavior. Back in the '50s, when Rock and Roll was young, Elvis was an important factor, I won't deny that. His early stuff I have no problem with. Tunes like "Jailhouse Rock", "Heartbreak Hotel", "Hound Dog", and "Love Me Tender" are okay in my book. It's only during the 1960s, that Elvis put out such miserable drech ( or is it drek?) like, "Suspicious Minds", and "In The Ghetto" that I began to really detest him. The kicker was, when the Beatles were in the height of their Psychedellic phase, that Officer Elvis contacted then President Richard Nixon and offered to get evidence of the Fab Four's drug abuse in order to deny them the right to tour in the U.S.A. In 1972 when the televised farwell Tour From Hawaii was aired, that Elvis appeared on stage in his flamboyantly, flashy matador outfit that he performed the song, "Something". As a bigger Beatle Fan than Elvis Fan, I was enraged. He'd tried to stop the Beatles from earning a living by touring, and yet he had the balls to perform one of their songs? I am mystified as to why people put him on a god-like pedastal.
Of course the final chapter in Elvis's life is that he was as big a drug abuser as the Beatles, yet none of their lives ended due to their experimenting with substances for recreational purposes. Elvis became a punchline to a bad joke. He evolved into a fat, buffoon, stuffing himself into his idiotic costumes. Rock and Roll has survived just fine since his demise. I was working in a factory when he checked out, and that really killed me, because I worked at a machine where hearing protection was required. I happend to have a pair of headphones that looked almost identical to the ear protectors, so I'd plug in my radio and have tunes to make the drudgery, less tedious. For at least ten days after the death of Elvis Aron Presley, I couldn't listen to the radio because my ears were assaulted with tributes to him.
The King has left the building, and I can breathe a whole lot easier.
I personally am not a fan of Elvis Presley. I don't consider him to be the king of anything except White Trash garish behavior. Back in the '50s, when Rock and Roll was young, Elvis was an important factor, I won't deny that. His early stuff I have no problem with. Tunes like "Jailhouse Rock", "Heartbreak Hotel", "Hound Dog", and "Love Me Tender" are okay in my book. It's only during the 1960s, that Elvis put out such miserable drech ( or is it drek?) like, "Suspicious Minds", and "In The Ghetto" that I began to really detest him. The kicker was, when the Beatles were in the height of their Psychedellic phase, that Officer Elvis contacted then President Richard Nixon and offered to get evidence of the Fab Four's drug abuse in order to deny them the right to tour in the U.S.A. In 1972 when the televised farwell Tour From Hawaii was aired, that Elvis appeared on stage in his flamboyantly, flashy matador outfit that he performed the song, "Something". As a bigger Beatle Fan than Elvis Fan, I was enraged. He'd tried to stop the Beatles from earning a living by touring, and yet he had the balls to perform one of their songs? I am mystified as to why people put him on a god-like pedastal.
Of course the final chapter in Elvis's life is that he was as big a drug abuser as the Beatles, yet none of their lives ended due to their experimenting with substances for recreational purposes. Elvis became a punchline to a bad joke. He evolved into a fat, buffoon, stuffing himself into his idiotic costumes. Rock and Roll has survived just fine since his demise. I was working in a factory when he checked out, and that really killed me, because I worked at a machine where hearing protection was required. I happend to have a pair of headphones that looked almost identical to the ear protectors, so I'd plug in my radio and have tunes to make the drudgery, less tedious. For at least ten days after the death of Elvis Aron Presley, I couldn't listen to the radio because my ears were assaulted with tributes to him.
The King has left the building, and I can breathe a whole lot easier.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Black Coffee In Bed
I worked at a radio station during the early to mid 1980's, when "disposable music" was at it's peak. I swiped this title from a band called "Squeeze" formerly "U.K. Squeeze". Just because I labeled the music 'disposable' doesn't mean that I don't like it, I have some very fond memories of that era, but let's face it. Duran Duran, The Thompson Twins, & Thomas Dolby aren't going to make it into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame. They'll be swept under the rug, stuffed into an obscure corner of the trivia pile.
In any case, science marches on, and every day, some new revelation comes out about our lifestyles. First it was discovered that there's something in coffee that has amazing antioxident properties, then it was discovered that caffeine has all kinds of negative side effects. Now they say that preganant women shouldn't drink more than one cup of coffee a day. What should we believe? I personally don't care!! Coffee sucks! Just the way it smells makes me wonder how anyone can put that in their mouth? Yet Americans go to extreme lengths to get the crap. Starbucks is a wonder unto itself. For a while there was a big debate about Krispy Kreme vs. Dunkin Donuts. People told me that the KKs blew away the DDs, but the Krispy Kremes on Long Isand all went out of biz. Many people speculated that it was because their coffee was nowhere close to DDs. No matter how many Dunkin Donuts are in or around your town, there's always room for one more, and they all seem to thrive. One opened up in my area recently and it's across the street from where I buy my newspaper . Every morning I watch people make suicidal maneuvers that would have had Evel Knieval shitting in his pants, trying to whip into the parking lot of the local DD. It's all for that coffee buzz. Plus the fact that where all overworked, overstressed and trying to do eight and a half million things at one time, that people need to gnash their teeth to get their caffeine jolt and the sugar rush. And we wonder why Americans are so obese? Hmmmmmmm. I'll take the disposable music of the 1980's over coffee any day of the week!
In any case, science marches on, and every day, some new revelation comes out about our lifestyles. First it was discovered that there's something in coffee that has amazing antioxident properties, then it was discovered that caffeine has all kinds of negative side effects. Now they say that preganant women shouldn't drink more than one cup of coffee a day. What should we believe? I personally don't care!! Coffee sucks! Just the way it smells makes me wonder how anyone can put that in their mouth? Yet Americans go to extreme lengths to get the crap. Starbucks is a wonder unto itself. For a while there was a big debate about Krispy Kreme vs. Dunkin Donuts. People told me that the KKs blew away the DDs, but the Krispy Kremes on Long Isand all went out of biz. Many people speculated that it was because their coffee was nowhere close to DDs. No matter how many Dunkin Donuts are in or around your town, there's always room for one more, and they all seem to thrive. One opened up in my area recently and it's across the street from where I buy my newspaper . Every morning I watch people make suicidal maneuvers that would have had Evel Knieval shitting in his pants, trying to whip into the parking lot of the local DD. It's all for that coffee buzz. Plus the fact that where all overworked, overstressed and trying to do eight and a half million things at one time, that people need to gnash their teeth to get their caffeine jolt and the sugar rush. And we wonder why Americans are so obese? Hmmmmmmm. I'll take the disposable music of the 1980's over coffee any day of the week!
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