Back To School Memories…Asbestos I Can Remember

                           Watching kids walk home from school yesterday brought back memories of my first day back to school with the summer fading away as the new school year begins as it has every fall before it. Walking home from school with your friends was always an adventure. My walk was a two mile maze of crossing streets, cutting through yards, going over the railroad tracks, hopping two fences, running from one dog and arriving at home with time to play outside for a while before my mother called me in. Ah yes, fond memories. The only similarity between those  kids walkng home from school yesterday and my days walking home from school was the part where they walked. Most were attached to cell phones either talking to someone, texting someone, or reading an incoming text message. It’s a good thing the monkey bars and bike racks have all been torn down or a kid could get hurt  falling over one while texting. All this back to school excitement after a wild and crazy summer of playing hot new video game releases will certainly create some memorable stories to tell their grandchildren.

Here are some of my fond childhood memories. I’m sure some of you lucky enough to be born in the 50s, 60s, and 70’s will be brought back to a simpler time and a slower pace where we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us and went to schools made of asbestos. 

Our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paints and we had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets or shoes, not to mention, the risks some of us took hitchhiking as we got older.

As children, we would ride in the front seat of the car with no seat belts or air bags.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

Take away food was limited to pizza places and ice cream parlors. 

There were no snacks between meals and, somehow we didn’t starve to death!

We shared one soda with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We could collect old drink bottles and cash them in at the corner store and buy fire crackers to blow up bugs with.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank soft drinks with sugar in it, but we weren’t overweight because……

WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. We built tree houses and  played in the dirt with matchbox cars.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo’s, X-boxes, IPods, no videogames at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape or DVD movies, no surround sound, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms……….WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

You only got gifts on your birthday and at Christmas…….no really!

We made slingshots when we were eight and were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays.

We drank milk laced with plutonium from cows that had eaten grass-covered in nuclear fallout from the atomic testing during the 50’s and 60’s

We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just yelled out the window for them! We did not have scheduled pre-planned and pre-approved play dates.

Teams had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we got in trouble or broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law! 

Our generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever! The past 70 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!  We had the luck to grow up as kids, before the government regulated our lives for our own good.

These kinds of memories kind of make you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn’t it?!  Go for it.

Health Care Reform Begins With You

                                   I’ll admit that most of the information I know on the current health care reform bill has been learned from what I’ve read on-line and what I’ve heard on talkradio. That means that I know just about as much as the elected officials who are supposed to have read the bill. What little I do know, I don’t like. I know that this country needs to reform our health care practices but it doesn’t have to be a rushed quick fix just to validate campaign promises. Since when did Americans start to believe  in campaign promises anyway?

                                        Health care in this country is far from perfect but it is still a lot better than what most countries offer. It is a complex problem that needs to be dissected from the ground up by intelligent and experienced health care experts. You know like the experts in the banking and mortgage industry. We were all given the impression that they were pretty damn smart and yet they didn’t predict one of the biggest financial disasters this country has ever experienced. That proves the point that just because you think you’re smart doesn’t mean that you are. Most complex problems are best handled by people with good common sense and not those who are so close to the problem, and probably part of the problem, that they have tunnel vision and a lack of simple clarity.

                                  Since I do not consider myself to be an overly smart person and I have no health care experience whatsoever I have decided that I am more than qualified to fix this health care cluster-crap once and for all. Here is my health care reform plan. Please pass it on to your local elected official or congressman once he is out of jail or rehab.

Here is the plan.

1. Don’t get sick.

2. If you do get sick go to WebMD and self diagnose the problem. Order prescription drugs on-line from Canada and let the healing begin.

3. If you need surgery wait until is is an absolute emergency and call an ambulance to take you to the hospital. They’ll perform the surgery whether you have insurance, money, or citizenship. In most cases you will not be turned away. This of course is a large part of the current health care problem but if you can’t beat them, sit in a hospital waiting room with them. Of course a tummy tuck or Botox injections are not considered an emergency need for surgery… unless you live in Hollywood. 

                               Okay, the bottom line is that almost 70% of all health care can be avoided by by people simply investing in their own personal level of health. I am a fit and healthy individual who pays astronomical health care insurance premiums because of the overweight guy who smokes three packs a day, drinks regulary, exercises rarely, and has enough collesterol built up in his veins to clog the Alaskan Pipeline. He is he one who is draining the system waiting for the next “Check Engine” light to come on so that he can continue to use his doctors, hospitals, and pharmacies as his own personl health care system.

                             Insurance companies need to start charging more to people who take little or no care of themselves and give premium breaks to those that do. Car insurance companies do it. It’s called being rewarded for good practices. Like I said, health care begins with you so take good care of yourself and the next time you see an overweight person sweating like a politician while stuffing their face with an Egg McChemical or Whopper with an extra cheese-like substance, slap that sanwhich right out of their chubby little hands and say, “I just saved your life…and saved money on my health care insurance”. Of course you may get arrested but as long as a gun was not used during the intervention you should just a slap on the wrist and possibly some probation time.

Rough Times are Upon Us, So Be Creative

                       Recession, depression, economic slowdown, rising unemployment, shortage of jobs… jingle- all- the-way. For most this holiday season there doesn’t seem to be much to celebrate. For small children that means less gifts but parents can easily blame that on Santa Claus. Everyone I speak to has told me that they are cutting back this year. No extravagant gifts bought on a credit card that will be paid off in three years costing four times the original cost. The holiday buzz this season is all about small intimate gifts thoughtfully purchased on Christmas Eve at the only Dollar Store in town still open after 6PM.

Here are some other options to keep in the holiday spirit without spending a lot of money:

The family can make their own gifts using only items found in the house. For instance scraps of wood, old curtains, expired prescription drugs, old electronic equipment, napalm, etc.  Unless you graduated from M.I.T it will probably be a piece of crap that everyone will say looks wonderful but will quickly wind up under the kitchen sink where it will dwell for all eternity.

Cutting down your own Christmas tree can be fun as well as inexpensive, especially if it’s from your neighbor’s front lawn. Teamwork and precision  are needed if the family is going to pull this off. I advise to use a pull saw gently sprayed down with WD-40 for smoother quieter strokes. If you don’t want to spend Christmas in jail then don’t use a chain saw. I learned from experience on this one. Apparently a very light sleeper can hear a chain saw cutting down a tree on his front lawn at 3AM. Who knew?

If you don’t have much food this season then Christmas Caroling is the answer to your problem. Depending on what neighborhood you live in until foreclosure most civilized people reward carolers with fresh baked cookies, egg nog, and sliced ham. Of course in some neighborhoods it may be a bullet, a bong hit, and a ransom note. Remember, the worse you sing the faster they want you off their porch, and the more food they will give you.

Go on tour! Take the whole family to visit distant relatives you haven’t seen, spoken to, or even thought about until right now. Old friends, your second grade teacher, the guy who was on the pay phone before you…everyone you can possibly think of. Just stop and say you were in the neighborhood and wanted to drop off a gift. Now the dollar store comes in handy doesn’t it? A well wrapped 99 cent item purchased at the Dollar Store can easily look like a $14.99 item purchased at Walmart. After giving your gift and you’re invited in…then call the wife and 6 kids. The family piles out of soon-to-be-repossed car and enjoys a perfect Christmas holiday visit with virtual strangers who are scrambling to find reciprocal gifts for the entire family. You do this four or five times on a Saturday and you’ve got yourself a real holiday my friend.

Find someone less fortunate than you and give them something purchased from the Dollar Store. Their apprieciation is the best gift of all. If they don’t show apprieciation than an old- fashioned family Christmas beat-down is in order. Remember it’s the holidays, no hitting in the face. Now have some fun!

Or, you can sit in your basement like a pathetic little troll and write a blog about being creative during the holidays and help others by giving them hope through ideas even though the ideas are moronic and in no way helps anyone but is more of an self-indulgent waste of time until you go to the gym and work out. This one worked for me, later.

Text Message This to a Friend

                              Text messaging today has become all the rage as nimble fingers fly across cell phone keyboards throughout the world. I don’t believe I’ve ever text messaged anyone before. I’m not sure I see the point in it. If you have a cell phone why not just leave a message on voice-mail? Seems easy enough to me. So why would anyone with normal human sized fingers type on a keyboard smaller than a Kit-Kat Bar? I needed to get some answers and I needed to get them fast so I began my research on the subject of text messaging, it’s origin, and where it is headed in the future. Below is the result of my research. If you’d like I can text message this blog to you. Honest, I don’t mind.

The First Text Message

The first text message was from God to Moses in the form of the Ten Commandments. I’m strictly going on the Charleton Heston movie version here as opposed to the Biblical version. When Moses came down from the mountain and saw his dedicated followers acting like Kid ‘n Play having a  House Party he was so enraged that he threw down the ten commandments and broke them into pieces. Thus was the death of the first text message and the birth of the first temper tantrum. Text messaging would not appear again for many centuries.

The Dark Ages of Text Messaging 

Text messaging reappeared in the seventies in the form of what was called a beeper. A beeper, as your grand-children may recall was a small black box with a window on it that displayed a phone number when someone called it. The beeper, much like today’s modern cell phones had it’s own phone number. When it beeped you could see who was calling and then call them back if you wanted. Some numbers look like letters when you hold them upside down. A few people figured out that you could send small crude messages using this knowledge. They were known as drug dealers. Beeper technology today is only used at restaurants to let you know that your table is ready.

The Crossover Years 

In the eighties cell phones either came in a suitcase and looked like you could set off a nuke from them or they were the size of an iron with a retractable antenna that was a foot long. Only important people had them. And drug dealers. In the next ten years the cell phone would reduce in physical size many times before it arrived at it’s present size of small and cute . During this transition period many people had both a beeper, now referred to as a pager, and cell phone. As a bouncer for may years I recall nothing being more attractive than a semi-overweight big haired Jersey girl with a purple beeper attached to her hip while wearing a half shirt that caused her to gently lift her hip roll to see the screen when someone paged her. On the male side of the coin having a cell phone or pager on your belt was a symbol of self importance and an acknowledgement that someone, somewhere knew that you indeed existed.  Some even had two pagers and one cell phone on the same belt. They were known as Batman…or computer network engineers (techno-nerds)…or drug dealers. The two pager, one cell phone guy was one of the loneliest men on the planet. Since he never went out except for work and the porn shop on the corner the two pager, one cell phone guy never procreated and the breed died off somewhere in the late nineties. I hear The Museum Of Natural History has a fully preserved one on display with a working pager that they call once every hour. People gather around it and wait an hour just to hear it beep again. It is the Old- Faithful geyser of our generation.

Texting Today

Our cell phones are compact and personalized with built in cameras, music, GPS, text messaging, a compass, Internet access, videos, and on some of the better models you can actually make a phone call. I see a lot of people text messaging as opposed to speaking directly with someone and so I went aroung and asked why. Here are the responses I received:

” Get away from me you asshole . Can’t you see I’m text messaging?”

” Umm, I don’t know. It’s like me and my BFF’s started doing it, and like, I don’t know, It’s like, you know, OMG, why are you asking me this?”

” Sometimes I don’t want to talk so I just TM someone and they can read it anytime they want. It’s also easy to get away with while you’re supposed to be working. Talking on a cell phone is obvious. When you text message it’s private and if you hide it well you can easily get away with it anywhere.  I text message during meetings, while talking to someone on the phone, on the toilet and during foreplay. By the way I’m looking for a new job, my wife is leaving me, and I can no longer go to the bathroom without my cell phone. Are you hiring? Can I text message you my resume?”

” I like reading so I like getting text messages. Books are boring, at least a text message is to you and not the whole world. It’s kind of like a Hallmark card or something that you get from a friend. That’s $12.94. Do you want any taco sauce with that?”

“I’m a professional businessman and I use it for certain transactions.” “Do you want to buy some drugs?”

The Future of the Text Message

I’m certain that text messaging is just the beginning of this phenomenon and that it’s evolution will bring about the fall of mankind as we know it today. It will all begin to unravel with a text message that was never meant to be seen, and should never a have been sent. Gossip is merely here-say with little or no validation. A text message is a permanent technological tattoo on the ass cheek of cyberspace. Suspended somewhere out there in the timeless void is a villainous text message floating around  like the three master criminals from Superman II just waiting to be released to wreak havoc. It could be something as simple as an off-color remark texted by a Russian Diplomat in Beijing to his mistress in Bulgaria that the Chinese Premier’s breath smells like Bruce Lee’s jockstrap that sets off World War III. It can get that ugly, that fast.

With reports of car crashes, train wrecks, plane crashes and an ice cream cone that got away from a little girl while texting at a family picnic it won’t be long before text messaging will be replaced by something else new and unique…like talking. Technology is like fashion and what is old becomes new again. I will admit that watching someone text message in public is not nearly as annoying as listening to them talk on their blue tooth at a check out register or while walking around a store.

Remember when the sirens are blaring, the bombs are falling, and the serious crap is hitting the heartland, you heard it here first. Text message that.

The Death of Harvey Houtkin: On the Road with The Bandit Part 3

                    In between business trips with Harvey we would usually be back in the office in Montvale, New Jersey. Harvey was strategically placed in the corner office on the second floor. He would usually sit at his desk facing away from the door and whomever would wander into his office. He had set up three monitors behind his desk to watch the market and would often have detailed conversations with people while only occasionally looking up at them. His door was rarely closed and anyone could and often would just walk in and talk to Harvey. He enjoyed the company and as long as you understood that he was going to be trading while talking to you then he never seemed to mind visitors. If the market got crazy he would graciously excuse himself and tell the person that he needed to concentrate for a little while.

                 I walked into Harvey’s office to show him an ad I was working on for Investor’s Business Daily. As usual he felt it was to subtle and he made some changes. I told him that it wasn’t going to fly with Linda Lerner, All-Tech’s general counsel, a brilliant and feisty woman with an incredible knowledge of the brokerage industry. “Fuck her,” was his usual response when I brought up her forthcoming rejection of the ad. On this particular Friday in August Harvey had far more important things on his mind and he quickly tossed the ad on his desk demonstrating once again that he had the attention span of a Tic-Tac and said, “Let’s go”, as he got up and headed for the office door. “Where are we going,” I asked as if it mattered since I was already right behind him. “I have to pick something up”, he responded as he headed down the stairs and out into the bright sunlight and a scorching  August heatwave in northern New Jersey. He had borrowed a little red pick-up truck that belonged to one of the staff at his estate.

                  He drove to a house in Saddle River, a cozy affluent community and onetime home of former President Richard Nixon. A woman in her sixties was in the garage as we drove into the driveway. Harvey said hello and told me to take an end of what could only be described as one of the ugliest couches I’ve ever seen. It was shiny dark gold cloth with images of the Liberty Bell and script from the Declaration of Independence superimposed all over it. We loaded it on the truck sideways across the truck bed. Harvey had of course brought no rope or cords. That is why I was there. To hold it. He haggled with the woman on the pre-agreed upon price and as usual got his way. When he got in the truck he handed me a two foot wide by one foot high American Eagle made of pennies and dimes glued together and mounted on a wooden oval plaque. “I paid five bucks for this,” he said proudly. “There’s at least twenty dollars worth of coins on this thing”, he went on justifying his ridiculous purchase. “I got the couch for fifty bucks and she threw in a lamp for free,” he continued. “Great”, I said. “Where are you going to put all of this crap”? “In the office,” he responded as if I should have known that he would bring junk a homeless person wouldn’t sleep on to our tastefully decorated corporate office. “Mark Shefts was going to crap a cow when he see this junk,” I thought.

                The couch started sliding the second we pulled out of the driveway. I was holding one corner with my outstretched arm as Harvey drove and held the other end as we drove back to the office. On the way he told me that he had agreed upon a price of a hundred dollars but told the woman he only had fifty on him knowing that she was moving that day and had to get rid of the couch. She was a recent widow he told me. I told him that he was going to hell and now he had the furniture to go with him. He just laughed as we stopped in Shop-Rite because Pepsi was on sale and he had coupons.

                      Harvey came up to the register with ten cases of Pepsi and his coupon. The coupon was only good for two cases. Harvey immediately began negotiating with the pimple-faced teenager behind the register who was clearly getting very nervous as Harvey attacked relentlessly with dialogue not fit for the young and innocent. A manager overheard the commotion and came over to assist. Harvey told him that he fed the homeless and he needed ten cases of Pepsi. Not only did he get the ten cases the manager scanned his employee card and Harvey got another twenty percent off. He was in his glory.

                    When we got back to the office it was already after hours so the place was empty when we brought in the furniture and set it up in the waiting room. After seeing the lamp the couch is now the second ugliest piece of furnitue I’ve ever seen. We hanged the eagle coin plaque above the couch which rounded out the room as a total disatser and completely inappropriate for the office. Harvey of course loved it. I couldn’t wait until Monday when people saw it. It looked like the dark waiting room of a 1930’s politician with bad taste and a lust for Asian prostitutes. It was hideous.

TV Evangelists: DJ Pastor and The Funky Bunch

                  TV Evangelists are all over the airwaves these days which is fine by me because in what the future will call the Dark Ages II we need these sobbing degenerates more than ever. The economy is lying in a ditch off Route 295 with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The rich are jobless, the middle class are homeless, and the homeless are laughing their dirty asses all the way to the soup kitchen. In the midst of all this anger and mistrust it’s comforting that we can all look to the best dressed of God’s Little Rascals to start the healing and ease the suffering.

                   There have been some tough times for the Lost Bible Boys in the past. When reminded of their scandoulous reputation they quickly pull the Catholic Priest sex scandal card and harshly throw it right in your face. They have a valid point since the Catholic Church was rocked by several major lawsuits in 2001 alleging that priests had sexually abused minors. Some priests resigned, others were defrocked or jailed, some received counseling and continued to preach from the sexual predator pulpit. Financial settlements totaling in hundreds of millions of dollars were made with many victims not to mention the dubious honor of having your church listed on the Meaghans Law website.   

                With techno-salvation just a TV remote click away, going to church has never been more convenient. No more dressing up in your Sunday best and dragging the family out the door to sit in a hot stuffy room on benches so uncomfortable you actually considered converting to Paganism a few times. Now you can lay on the couch in your Sunday best underwear drinking beer and eating nachos while you worship the lord until the football game comes on. 

                  Joel Osteen’s Lakewood Church in Houston now occupies the arena previously home to the Houston Rockets. In 2007, Osteen reported spending nearly $30 million every year on its television ministry. You need an awful lot of donations to keep running that kind of circus. At some point you may feel a little guilty for getting the word of the lord for free and want to respond to the many calls for pledges.  Remember that it’s TV, they can’t see you. They’ll never know. Or will they?  If you want to play it safe send them a few bucks, after all these guys are spending hours in make-up to look great on the frontlines of the war against Satan on your behalf. We should all feel a litte safer knowing that they are there for us…living in mansions so beautiful they could be featured on MTV Cribs.

The Death of Reality

                    I haven’t posted for a while so here are the updates on the important issues you should know!I have the freaking flu. I’m sure it’s not terminal but it certainly feels like it is. No, that’s not the important issue. It’s just a statement of my current condition. This blog is being written under the influence of Theraflu, Tylenol Severe Cold Medicine, and some green gel pill that’s either for head congestion or heart worms for the dog. Either way I feel like I’m protected on all fronts against this the deadliest of all diseases. Don’t forget that 21.5 million people died as a result of the 1918-1919 flu pandemic. Does the flu get a telethon or a big celebrity spokesperson? Nope. It doesn’t even get a glass jar on a drug store counter with a picture of some poor lazy-eyed kid with snot dripping from his nose to his mouth asking for donations to help fight the flu. Okay, I’m a wimp. 

                    I’m usually always on the go so being sick gives me a chance to sit back and watch TV or rent a DVD. I know that theirs a lot of reality shows on TV but I never noticed how many people are willing to completely humiliate themselves on such a wide scale. The collective need to be on television is overwhelming. I’m not talking about the anger-eating, foul smelling, wife beating, stone washed, inbred amphetamine addicts like on Jerry Springer. I’m referring to regular people just like you and me. Well,… just like me. I don’t technically know everyone who reads this blog so I can’t verify your character.

                          If it’s not an insider’s view of celebrity’s unrehersed real lives it’s pretentious staged human drama with all the pauses, retakes, edits and dubs of an Austin Power’s movie. Here are reviews of some of the shows I’ve watched over the last few days.

Kimora: Life in the FAT FAB Lane.

Was a model…blah,blah,blah…married Russel $immons…blah,blah,blah…now runs fashion empire based on her FABULOUS image and being FAT PHAT. So we get Baby Phat Fashions where she gets input from her young daughters on what little girls want to wear. Apparently little girls want to dress like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, Punky Brewster, and Blossom all hopped up on Fruity Pebbles and Gummi Bears. She bosses her staff around like they are kennel dogs while making the most ridiculous demands of them while they take it like Desperate Housewives. Pleasing Kimora is the most important thing in their lives. Being pleased and being fabulous is the most important thing in Kimora’s life and the basis of the whole show. According to Kimora, being fabulous is not just about the jewelry, make-up, clothes, money, party’s, and status…it’s about feeling fabulous whomever you are. I have never felt less fabulous than I do right now.

Brooke Knows Best

Should be called Brooke Knows Nothing. I could only stomach a few minutes of this one. It is a spin-off of her her family’s reality show Hogan Know’s Best  which ran until her parent’s broke up, followed by her brother’s arrest, and her mother’s much publiczed dating of a 19 year old. Of course none of that  reality was ever filmed. Now Brooke is on her own and uh…doing something…or something…and, um, that’s pretty much it. Saving and then pro-creating from a mindless sliver of Hogan Know’s Best is like saving a sample of Hitler’s stem-cell to create future abominations to mankind. Um, I didn’t like it.

Gene Simmons Family Jewels

I actually like this show. I think Gene Simmons is very likable and is both aware of his current staus as a superstar without forgetting that he’s still just a Jewish kid from Brooklyn. All in all it’s a pretty cool show and you get the feeling that the reality is as real as real can get for a reality show. Say that three time fast. I’ve now got a headache to go with my flu.

Young Boys in America: Oversensitive and Underworked

                  Parents can no longer count on school for the emotional development of their sons. In a foam covered world of lollipop dreams and chocolate streams where no one skins a knee our young boys are being over-sensitized and under-challenged. I see it every day in my young male students. They come to me clinging on their mothers leg so tightly we have to have some of them surgically removed. It’s a simple procedure. One day surgery…in and out but not covered by most insurance since I’m not a licensed or trained surgeon.

                    Here are a few tips for Parents to help Toughen Up their sons. This also works for daughters and most pets.

1. “Pick me up” and “Carry me” are out after 2 1/2 years of age. When you take your first step…get used to it and keep on walking. I see so many parents holding 3 and 4 year olds simply because they want to be picked up. The answer is no. If you whine or complain you will be punished. An average 3 or 4 year old is heavy and there is no reason for them to be held like a baby while your back slowly disintegrates and you see the signs of osteoporosis in your early thirties. 

2. No means no. Get used to it.

3. Go outside and play. The backyard, the front yard, a neighbors yard, a school yard, Scotland Yard, etc. 

4. No baby voices anymore. There is nothing more annoying than a six year old boy who uses baby voices or high shrilling squeals that have every dog in the neighborhood humping a pillow or hiding under a bed. Use your big boy voice now.

5. Allow your sons to enjoy the following experiences that every young boy should know…skimming rocks in a lake…riding a go-cart…climb a ladder…swim in the deep end…roll down a hill…sleigh riding…run with the bulls in Spain…have a dog (no, cats don’t count)…learn a cool instrument( no, clarinet doesn’t count)…hold a dead bird…shoot a BB rifle (no, that’s not how the bird died. It was just on the ground when we got there. Really)…hiking( no, not carrying him hiking)…build something…drop chocolate covered cherries off a roof in NYC…get dirty…walk in the rain…have chores (real chores, struggle builds character, do you want him living in your basement when he is 40 while you still cut the crust off his bread?)…take martial arts classes…have a pocket knife( no, that’s not how the bird died either. It was like that when we got there. I swear.)…save your own money for the toy you want…and lastly, rough it up like a boy should.

The Simple Solution: I’m Just a Bill

                      There is no good news on the television. The radio is all bad and newspapers are unfit for reading or wrapping fish. People are getting more desperate for solutions as bureaucrats look for someone to blame followed by  a first class public hanging. There is talk of a global recession that will negatively affect corporate earnings and lead to massive job losses. I’d say it’s a good thing its just talk or everyone would panic and fulfill the media’s prophecy of doom and gloom but that ship of fools has already left the crazy peer.

                  It seems that most of the media is more concerned in inciting bad news than they are at reporting actual news in an unbiased fashion. Many of the problems facing this country today can be traced back to speculative reporting based on soft information from ”unnamed” sources creatively edited to make a newscast look like an MTV video. I miss the good old days before color TV when my TV was in black and white and so were the facts on the news. The newscasters weren’t playing for the camera and sucking up for Emmys, they were reporting the facts. Today the news has become more entertainment than factual reporting.

                  It is so blatantly obvious that most of the media is backing Obama when they attack McCain and Palin like rabid dog packs at every opportunity that I find it necessary to peel back the skin on this one and expose the culprits. Why does the media care so much about who is our next President? There will always be news to report no matter who wins the election, right? So why the push? If you listen to conservative talk show hosts like Rush Limbaugh, Laura Ingraham, or Sean Hannity it is because the liberal media wants to divide the masses and create conflict. They must think the liberal media is smarter than I do because I don’t think they could conceive of such a master plan much less implement it.  In rebuttal the liberal media claims that the right wing conservative media paints their own velvet Elvis picture of the news on behalf of conservatism and the Republican Party. So how do you know if what the media is reporting is truthful and accurate? You don’t and it isn’t. You need to do the work and find out for yourself what is right rather than who thinks they are right. By the way, I know that I am right on this. But don’t take my word for it. But I’m right anyway. The media hasn’t changed since the days of Washington, Adams and Jefferson. The media has always been courted by candidates and political partys alike and has always historically swayed one way or the other in it support and reporting.

                  It has been said that the truth lies somewhere between fact and fiction. I don’t see a lot of truthfulness coming out of Washington these days. People are trying spin a name on all of the bad karma that is affecting this country. Are we as a nation just having a bad year? Could we all be just having some bad luck? I don’t think so. Poor decisions accompanied by the urgency and foresight of a blind Koala bear were made by our elected leaders. Government spending is out of control and someone needs to take the national credit card and cut it in half before the Senators Gone Wild  video hits the market early next year. 

                Like I said people are trying to put a name on the horrible economy, a questionable fuel source for the future, terrorism, ongoing conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, unemployment and health care costs. I’ve been trying myself to come up with just one word that describes the current state of affairs and how to reverse it. The word I came up with is: Simplify. All of it. Your life, the government, foreign policy, banking, the markets, fuel consumption, everything.

                       When you get lost you go back to the last place that you remember before you took the wrong turn. We need to step back a little and remember what is important and how we became a great country in the first place. I know most people will probably argue that simplifying is a generalised and childlike response to a vortex of complex problems that someone like me couldn’t even begin to understand. I disagree, a word like “Change” which is the cornerstone of Obama’s campaign is a generalised response. Throwing a tantrum is a childlike response and everyone in the country with a fourth grade education should be able to understand how things work in Washington. I learned about our Government by one of the greatest institutions in our country. I still stand by the simple message of this song: I hope it moves you like it moves me.

I’m just a bill.
Yes, I’m only a bill.
And I’m sitting here on Capitol Hill.
Well, it’s a long, long journey
To the capital city.
It’s a long, long wait
While I’m sitting in committee,
But I know I’ll be a law some day
At least I hope and pray that I will
But today I am still just a bill.

I’m just a bill
Yes I’m only a bill,
And I got as far as Capitol Hill.
Well, now I’m stuck in committee
And I’ll sit here and wait
While a few key Congressmen discuss and debate
Whether they should let me be a law.
How I hope and pray that they will,
But today I am still just a bill.

I’m just a bill
Yes, I’m only a bill
And if they vote for me on Capitol Hill
Well, then I’m off to the White House
Where I’ll wait in a line
With a lot of other bills
For the president to sign
And if he signs me, then I’ll be a law.
How I hope and pray that he will,
But today I am still just a bill.
Courtesy of Schoolhouse Rock

Thoughts on a Wednesday Morning

Wednesday, October 22, 2008   

                     It wasn’t the phone ringing that woke me up. I had been up for hours working on some signs for my new academy. Only an emergency or insane person calls at 7AM and I wasn’t in the mood for either so I let the machine do it’s job. Besides I was working. Before I went downstairs to my workshop and fortress of solitude I noticed that the fog was laying heavy over the mountains like a frosted blanket. I walked outside and breathed in air that simply stated it was fall in northeastern Pennsylvania. The older you get the faster the seasons seem to pass. When I was a kid summer seemed to drag on longer than a slide show at a nursing home. Now it seems that every season passes onto the next with little or no warning or expectation.

                      For me the beginning of fall is always a time for introspection. I’m not sure what it is about the season but it always makes me feel vibrant and alive. The smell of fireplaces aimlessly drifting through the air on a cold morning reminds me of a simpler time and place. The more I hear people complaining about the economy and general state off the nation the more I want to be outside reminding myself of what I’m working for in the first place. In one way or another we’re always looking for answers for life’s endless accumulation of problems. Whether it’s money, relationships, work, or unfulfilled expectations everyday brings with it the challenge of solving something wrong in our lives. We’ve always been told it’s important to start everyday with a good breakfast. I believe that’s it’s also important to start every day by going outside and either enjoying nature,… or killing it if you’re a hunter. What can I say? Its Pennsylvania. They like to kill things here. But at least they do it outside. I hear mom’s yelling all the time in my neighborhood, “No killing in the house…go outside and kill”.

               I find that performing a morning chore outside stimulates my thought process and I begin analyzing what problems I have to solve and how I can positively go about solving at least some of them. My morning chores are usually where I get some of my ideas for these blogs. For instance this morning I restacked my woodpile and came up with the following ideas…some good for humanity, others just good for me. It’s my woodpile!

1. If economy doesn’t get better, get job with no chance for advancement and therefore no pressure.
2. Great idea for McCain slogan to cinch the victory “Vote for John McCain…If You were Running For President He’d Vote For You”
3. Watched as family of field mice scurried away to safety from under the woodpile and was instantly envious of their simple happy lives. Except the slow one. I stepped on him.
4. Continue to develop Tupperware Coffin idea. One hole, stack the whole family.
5. I’m going target shooting on Friday so I need to decide what guns to bring. Do I bring the GLOCK 23 which looks great with my black cargo pants and an orange sweater or do I bring the H & K  which compliments a gray turtleneck and khaki pants? I was going to bring the Beretta but I don’t have a nice pair of Italian slip ons so I’d just look ridiculous.
6. China just wants to kill children don’t they? First it was lead based paint on toys for American kids and now its tainted milk for their own children. We get it. You don’t like kids. How many kids can Brad and Angelina adopt? They can’t do it all by themselves. We all need to pitch in and get ourselves a cute little Chinese baby before the Chinese government kills them all. We’re going to go from “Gichie Gichie Goo” to “Gichie Gichie Goo Gai Pan” in just no time.  
7. While I’m out here cutting wood on a frosty morning basking in the glory of nature some rich Manahttan lawyer is watching his electric faux fireplace sipping imported coffee while waiting for his personal trainer to arrive. I wish I was him.