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I'm Dreaming of a Dark Christmas

2010-01-04T12:11:00.003-05:00

In my 34 years on this Earth, there have been more forgotten Christmases than ones I can remember. The first three are a bit hazy, for sure. Sure, there was the year I got the Millennium Falcon and immediately broke off the radar dish. Something that foreshadowed the events of Return of the Jedi. Then, there was the year we got an Atari, although to be totally accurate it was the Sears Tele-Games version that came with the darker word grain finish and Target Fun instead of Combat. But for the most part, Christmas seems to come and go without a memorable event that makes it stand out against the mosaic of all Christmases combined. That was, until this year. Perhaps the two most remembered quotes of the holiday will be “Remember Caillou” and “Fire! Fire! I need a grown up!”

To start I should back up to Christmas Eve. Our two year old and a half year old is starting to get the idea of Christmas and we wanted to record the act of putting out cookies and milk for Santa. Of course, my daughter is all about quality assurance and immediately checked the cookies for suitable eating after she put them down on the stool in front of the tree. We also put some carrots out on the front porch in case the reindeer get tired of waiting on the roof. After lights out, we made sure Santa had enough space to put out all the presents. In fact, Santa became quite the vandal as he left messages on our back door, front door and refrigerator in red washable ink. It was something of a cross between Danny Torrance’s “REDRUM” and John McClane’s message about having a machine gun, "Ho, Ho, Ho." From the scrawling penmanship, I felt Santa was a sadistic bastard who didn't realize how hard it would be to clean up the mess after all was said and done.

The next morning, my in laws came over to watch the joy and awe like effect Christmas morning has on a child. The night before she was able to open one present and her excitement for that told us that a room full of presents should be a big deal. I stood in the living room, camera at the ready, and she waltzed down the hallway. She walked into the living room, right past the tree and over to an end table where her gift from the night before was sitting. She proceeded to stand there and show it to her grandmother, reveling in its coolness. Meanwhile, the blazing tree and multitude of gifts, that stood not two feet from her, went unnoticed. She didn’t even bat an eye at the cookie crumbs or gnawed carrot bits on the front porch. Looks like Christmas memories for her will be few and far between as well these first few years.

After we coaxed her into opening at least three of her gifts, we managed to clean up the discarded boxes and torn paper and prepared for a trip to my parents. It’s always hard to travel with children. They get so worked up because of the holiday and then you have to do all this travelling which just exhausts everyone. Not to mention, all kids want to do is play with their toys after they open them and to rip them from that playtime and trot them off to another person's house is not pleasing, even if that person also has presents for them. Since, my child was oblivious to presents at this point I figured it shouldn't be a problem. Although, it’s nice if we can work in a nap for her before we leave. She was already excited, not because she would be opening more presents but because she would be able to play with her cousin.

Now, we haven’t really seen a white Christmas around here for years. They are usually rainy and cold, but not white. This year was no exception, adding wind to the mix. It was hard at times to keep the new minivan on the road. Center of gravity was the one thing I hadn’t considered when replacing my low to the ground coupe. The car shimmied all over the road as the wind whipped over the hills and onto the turnpike. As we pulled into my parents’ driveway we could see the pine trees, that lined the driveway, bend and sway in the breeze. We took a few minutes to sit in the new sun room, which they had just added, and watched the closest pine almost kiss the glass more than once on the large windows.

About ten minutes before we were ready to eat, the power went out. My wife and I were standing in the living room with our daughter when it happened. I immediately called out to her to stand still as I walked over to try and find her in the darkness. Even if the outage had been confined to our house, alone, there would have been no outside lights to even give off the faintest glow through the windows. My parents live on the outskirts of town in a semi rural area, surrounded by farms and small housing plans. The only lights you get out there are from other houses and the occasional street light. We were pretty much in total darkness. Once I had gotten a hold of my kid, I picked her up while others worked on getting flashlights and candles. Once we had some light to go around, I grabbed a flashlight and aimed it straight at the ceiling. The white ceiling acted as a reflector bouncing the light around the room creating enough light to see but not enough to blind you from pointing a light in your face.

Luckily, my mother had finished cooking and was just getting ready to serve dinner when this happened or we may have been reduced to eating a Christmas dinner that was smiling at us. "Fa Ra Ra Ra Ra..." Now, I half expected my daughter to be in hysterics at this point. After all, she has issues with the dark in our house. But instead, she kept repeating the same thing over and over in the darkness. “Remember Caillou?” and then she would trail off into toddler incoherency. For those of you without small children, Caillou is a Canadian kids' cartoon on Sprout, based off of books. It’s about a little bald headed boy named Caillou. One of the episodes centered around a storm that caused the power to go out. She made it a point to tell everyone in “This one time at Band Camp” fashion “Remember Caillou, when the lights went out?” This went on for a least 30 minutes.

Dinner was excellent as always and afterwards we retired to the sun room to open presents. Usually, we would all just open simultaneously but due to conditions we took turns. One person would hold a flashlight while the other would open and vice versa. My father who claims that he doesn’t need or want anything for Christmas was actually jazzed for one present he opened this year. It was an LED lighted head band. It was practical and easily applicable in our current situation. We had candles around the room and a few oil lamps but this thing threw off a lot of light. He even hung it on the ceiling fan shining enough light for everyone. Even in perfect conditions we would have had trouble navigating from one side of the room to the other with all the presents. Because of the outage it was twice as tricky and this little bugger helped out a lot. At times, we couldn’t tell what exactly we had opened or who it was from, but we all enjoyed ourselves.

After presents, traditionally came pumpkin pie, but for some of us Tylenol would have been welcome. A couple of us began complaining of slight headaches and a bit of dizziness. We didn’t realize that maybe three oil lanterns would be a hazard. We decided to forgo the lamps during pie and coffee and I opted to wear the new most excellent Christmas present since Ralphie got his Red Ryder B.B. gun. The light was great if you needed to shine directly in front of you but in this case you could blind someone. So, I flipped it upside down and allowed the light to point upwards. I walked out into the living room where my daughter was playing and heard my nephew calling from the kitchen. He had taken up residence at the kitchen table with his new Nintendo DS while waiting for desert.

On the table, a gel based candle had finally reached its flash point and the gel caught fire, creating a larger flame. “Fire. Fire” He called out, calmly, while still playing the game system. My wife and sister in law stood in the kitchen and assessed the fire. It didn’t look that bad but it soon became bigger. “Fire. Fire” he called again, “I need a grown up!” They rushed over and I made my way around the living room and into the kitchen. Both my wife and sister in law had begun blowing on the table which was now engulfing the entire candle and with every blow threatened to spread. They both seemed sort of stunned and a bit alarmed at the growing threat. I calmly walked over and grabbed one of the pie plates. In what looked like my ignorance of the situation, in order to save the pie from disaster, was actually methodical. I merely placed the plate on top of the candle, snuffing out the oxygen supply. Both women looked at me like I had just grew antlers.

With the fire out, we proceeded with desert which deteriorated into fits of giggling and uncontrollable laughter brought on by what I can only figure was exposure to the oil lamps. My brother asked what my father used for fuel to which my father said, "Some can in the garage." I followed up asking if the can had a dirty old rag for a cap. All the while, I wore the head band lamp upside down on my head shining upward at the ceiling. My head nodded as I laughed at the littlest of things causing the light to create a strobe effect. My wife, who had really felt the downturn of the holidays this year declared that this would be the most memorable Christmases ever. With that, my daughter looked up with a whip cream goatee and said, “Remember Caillou?” Once again, we broke up into hysterics.

But my wife was right. I admit, this season was a bit of a downer. After all, 2009 was pretty unfavorable in that we had more valleys to navigate than peaks in terms of moods. Her mom battled cancer most of the year, beginning with surgery to remove a brain tumor, moved onto pulmonary emboli and a diagnosis of ovarian cancer, that ended with her having additional surgery and chemotherapy. She lost her job due to redundancy from a merger/acquisition in her company and her home was flooded during heavy rains in June. Her usual spunky attitude towards Christmas was dour with thoughts of having to wear a wig or shell out money for repairs and Christmas presents from her savings instead of regular pay. In the end, she came out on the winning side but had taken a lot of lumps to get there and it showed. We should be thankful that we get another Christmas with a woman that should have been dead 13 years ago. That’s 13 Christmases that were unremarkable just because no one was missing. Had it gone the other way, my wife would have probably done everything she could have to forget the holiday.

Still, she was right, this was the best Christmas ever. Thankfully we weren’t all too hopped up on diesel fumes and could remember it….and Caillou.

2009 D-Bag Award Finals

2009-12-28T11:34:00.003-05:00

2009 has been an utterly strange year. The strangest this decade. We’ve had unprecedented events and the usual nonsense that goes along with D-Bags of all walks of life. Before us, we have six exceptional finalists who have gone above and beyond the normal amount of mischief to land them in this round.

6. Sarah Palin
She started off the year licking her wounds and getting blamed for the loss of the Presidency which wasn't exactly fair. After all, it wasn't her fault McCain didn't get elected. She really had no business being his running mate. But, she did not go gently into that good night. She resigned her post as governor with no real explanation as to why, although it became clear. She wanted to go on a book tour, toting young Trig around to boost her cred among conservative mothers. I'm sure she'll refuse to go away come 2012 and by then, if she can still find ways to be relevant, the GOP will probably take her in a back room somewhere and reprogram her to be their candidate. Of course, being 2012, the world will probably end if she were to win.

5. Richard Heene
Richard Heene wanted fame. He wanted it so bad, he was willing to stage one of the dumbest and improbable stunts ever. He launched a Mylar balloon and pretended to be worried that his son, Falcon, was aboard. The scientific evidence was against him from the start but that didn't matter. We believed it was as plausible as the idea that a cable technician could bring down an alien armada with a Mac and a computer virus in ID4. Apparently, aliens don't have Norton or McAfee. As the story...ballooned...and everybody got caught up in the mass hysteria, Heene probably realized that he was in over his head. His son was in the garage, his ass was on the line, and Falcon's lunch was all over his lap. Finally, the truth came out. Heene is going to jail and cannot profit from the incident in any way or he will violate his probation.

4. Kanye West
Between attacking paparazzi at the airport and interrupting Taylor Swift at the VMA's, Kanye managed to make a mockery of his celebrity. I knew he had it in him but I can't think of why he thought it would have been a good idea to grab the mic from Swift and declare Beyonce's video the best of all time. Unfortunately, I have to agree with him. I cannot fathom the appeal of Taylor Swift, who for all intents and purposes, cannot sing live. I've had the displeasure of listening to her on several occasions and she just doesn't have the vocal control that someone who is considered the entertainer of the year should have. She wouldn't even make it to the finals of American Idol and that's saying something about talent, or lack there of. But this is about Kanye. Ever since his off script ad lib during the Katrina benefit he was bound to become an even bigger D-Bag. I only wish I could have put money on it.

3. Tiger Woods
I am not even what you would consider an amateur golfer. I suck. I have a slice that is almost like a boomerang. But I liked Tiger Woods on the course. He was/is a tremendous athlete and was/is destined for history. Unfortunately, 2009 was more about Tiger's infidelity than his playing. As the world crumbled around him, he could have taken the high road and admitted to it, stopping the machine that is the gossip media online and on television. However, he chose to be secretive about it, thinking it would go away, and it did, after 10 plus mistresses came out, his wife moved out and his endorsements shied away. Dave Letterman played his own infidelity best by owning up to his mistakes and then continually bashing himself. Tiger chose to do the one thing a huge celebrity can't, retreat. Arnie Palmer said it best. "If you want to be normal, you should give the money back."

2. Bernie Madoff
He screwed a hell of a lot of people with a very high price tag. Granted, he went to jail for it but the damage is irreparable in some cases. He did to individuals what the entire gang of suits on Wall Street did the American Public. That’s saying a lot. But in the scheme of things, he’s nothing more than a petty thief. He’s getting his justice, I hope, repeatedly and very dry.

1. Death
It almost seems like an unfair fight, here. After all, how do you compete with Death unless you are Bill S. Preston, esquire and Ted Theodore Logan? Still, look back at the amount of people who have died this year because of this guy. My pop culture childhood is almost completely gone. Celebrity aside, Death is usually a ringer for a D-Bag award every year. He claims millions of lives every year and he managed to take three more famous lives while the tournament was going on. He nailed Brittany Murphy, Vic Chestnut and Arnold Stang. Once the lists have been counted and the years analyzed someone more reputable than me will look back at 2009 and see that the year was most known for how many famous people died.

So, there you have it Mongo faithful. The biggest douche bag of 2009 is the Grim Reaper himself, Death. Maybe next year someone can take the trophy from him but I highly doubt it.

Childhood Christmas Commercial Memories

2009-12-24T00:00:00.008-05:00

Last year I ran down my all time favorite shows on at Christmastime. But what about those gems of capitalism that come on in between your favorite shows? I've compiled [read: stole from YouTube] a few of my favorites for you.

First up, local fare from the SW PA and surrounding areas. It's for Eat'N Park.

Next up, who could forget this classic tear jerker from Folger's. The one from this year just isn't as sincere as the original from 1986.

This one wasn't hard to find. It's the Coca Cola commercial from the 70s with the hilltop singers.

And another from 1986. It's a Hills Stores Commercial with a...I'm not sure if he's an elf or a gnome or Willow but he knows where the toys are.

Hand bells and kisses. Hershey's yearly commercial with the kisses ringing out "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."

How about one from Coca-Cola? Did everyone try burying a pine cone in the hopes that a fully grown and decorated tree would grow? Maybe Art Carney was truly magical. And maybe someone out there could also be magical and find me that commercial online. It's harder to find than a Cabbage Patch Kid, Tickle Me Elmo, and Zhu Zhu Hamster in the Christmas Shopping Time Warp.

Another local one. The Pennsylvania Lottery has a yearly Christmas commercial where they parody "The Twelve Days of Christmas." Each year they manage to keep it relevant with rotating lyrics for the current offerings. This commercial has been playing since the early 90s, at least. Once again, I cannot find it online. Someone has to remember it. "Five....Cash...Five"

I would love to find these online and post them here but alas they are nowhere to be found. In any case enjoy the holidays.

2009 D-Bag Awards - Heat Six: Deadly D-Bags

2009-12-23T00:00:00.001-05:00

For our last heat from the first round, I want you to imagine a high stakes poker game. Around the mahogany legged and green felt topped table, four D-Bags sit, sipping very old scotch. Each one has a set of chips on the table and they pass the time between hands chit chatting about their accomplishments. Here are your players.

H1N1
Salmonella
Death
Conrad Murray

As the dealer hands out the cards, Salmonella and H1N1 begin boasting their statistics over how many they have killed.

Salmonella: Why just this past week I caused a recall of Whole Foods Market hazelnuts in at least 7 states. I raise the pot to 600 for the year.

H1N1: II raise the bet to 10,582 deaths in more than 208 countries. In fact, the vaccine they’re giving to people doesn’t necessarily work and the ones they gave to kids aren’t that effective. The bet’s to you Conrad.

Conrad Murray: I bet one.

Others: ONE!?!?

Murray: Yes, but it was Michael Jackson. The biggest pop star in the world.

At this moment the H1N1, Salmonella and Death all look at Conrad and begin laughing. Soon, Conrad starts becoming sickened and looks down at the dish of peanuts he’s been eating. Salmonella chuckles and takes credit for the contaminated nuts. Then Murray develops a fever and becomes ill and looks at the cards which H1N1 dealt to him. H1N1 laughs as Murray realizes that H1N1 had gotten germs on the cards before dealing them to Murray. A few minutes go by as Murray sits there vomiting and sneezing, yet does not die. H1N1 and Salmonella sit and wait for hours, yet Murray does not die.

Suddenly, there is a crack in the air. The sound and glint of a blade slices through Murray’s chest, killing him instantly. H1N1 and Salmonella both look at Death who is now wiping his scythe on tie of the deceased doctor.

Death: You see boys. As much as you want to take credit for being the biggest cause of death this year, you have to realize that Murray, here, was in relatively good health when he sat down at the table. H1N1, you thought by giving him cold, he would die, and salmonella, you thought by poisoning his food you could accomplish the same. Now, you're both dangerous, but you guys are nothing compared to a real force of destruction. Murray may have contributed to the demise of Michael Jackson, but it was I that stood up and took the soul of the singer beyond this world. In fact, every time you want to pat yourselves on the back for causing a death, you fail to understand that I’m the one who shows up to collect.

This past year I’ve killed more people than the three of you combined. In 2009 I singlehandedly changed the face of pop culture with taking Michael Jackson, Natasha Richardson, Ricardo Montalban, Patrick McGoohan, Pat Hingle, John Hughes, Lou Albano, Soupy Sales, DJ AM, Farah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, Patrick Swayze, Mary Travers, Les Lye, David Carradine, two Kennedys, Henry Gibson, Dom DeLuise, Brittany Murphy, the ten o'clock hour of NBC's schedule and the last survivor of the Titanic. Now, if you boys want to talk relevancy, how about you go play with seasonal flu. I hear he averages at least 36,000 deaths a year.

Well, Death goes all in and wins the match, bony hands down. Stay tuned for round two.

This match is sponsored by soap. Preventing the transfer of germs for centuries. Also, sponsorship by the human race. Statistically speaking, human flu kills more per year than animal based flu. Humans; still the leading cause of death in everything.

2009 D-Bag Awards - Heat Five: Million Dollar D-Bags

2009-12-22T00:00:00.003-05:00

In the game of Monopoly, he who owns everything is the winner. In the D-Bag Awards, those who do so by means which are considered shady and ridiculously low class are the winner. So, for this match up, the following contestants will compete in a “Biggest D-Bag Take All” Game of Monopoly.

Wall Street (The Wheelbarrow)
Auto Industry (The Racecar)
Fox (The Dog which we’ll call a Fox)
NBC (Thimble which represents Jay Leno’s chin)
Raj Rajaratnam (The Battleship or Galleon)
Bernie Madoff (The Sack of Money: Deluxe Editions)

Since anyone of these contestants could drop off the map, let’s do a quick play scenario. On the board we have our six contestants. Each one will take a Chance card which will decide their fate.
First up is The Auto Industry. Representing the Auto Industry is Ford, GM, and Chrysler. You may remember their CEOs made the trek to Washington in 2008, looking for money to bail them out in hopes that they could get more federal funds to stem the bleeding from the recession. They did. So, here’s their turn.

CHANCE: Elected Chairman of the Board. Give yourself a bonus, cut workforce production, go bankrupt and be replaced.

Next up, Wall Street. With the TARP funded bailout last year, one would hope that Wall Street would have learned their lesson and been a better boy this year. Not likely, After lavish retreats and continued bonuses, we realized that the bailout really didn’t trickle down all that much. Yeah, the country didn’t go under and the Earth continues to turn, but even in paying back TARP funds, some banks look to make a profit by cutting the interest and passing along the bill to you.

CHANCE: Your Xmas Fund Matures. Pay back loans early and deny the hand that feeds you with stock prices that cut the amount of money paid back leaving you a profit. Get out from under the thumb of the government so you can go back to paying bonuses for suits and cosmetic changes to your offices. Continue to bend public over a chair as mortgages continue to be foreclosed on in America.

Third in turn is Fox. Fox has gone on such a high this year thanks to the addition of the show glee. However, this is the same company that managed to shift good shows to Friday night’s graveyard while relying on American Idol to win them all the money in the world. That and they copyrighted the word “glee”, but that’s another story.

CHANCE: That’s right. Fox doesn’t take chances. They just cut and run when shows aren't performing that well. The fan club of Dollhouse thanks you.

Next up, NBC. NBC has long been considered one of the best networks. After all, with shows like Law & Order, The Cosby Show, Cheers, ER, Friends, and The Tonight Show in your stable, you must have been doing something right, right? FlashForward to September 2009 and you’ll see why they are in contention.

CHANCE: Advance token to nearest high roller cable company and offer to be bought while simultaneously killing your schedule by doing away with 10pm dramas in hopes that Jay Leno will bring everyone over to watch his new show. Honestly, if Comcast gets controlling stock of NBC, you will see tons of issues. Think about wanting to watch your favorite show and seeing the TV Guide list a four block of time when it might show up.

Raj Rajaratnam, you’re up. Raj has taken time out of his busy schedule today of pleading not guilty to 11 counts of insider trading and we thank him for that.

CHANCE: You’ve been given insider information. Now that’s not even remotely a real card, but then again, we are dealing with a hedge fund. Raj denies benefiting from insider information dealing with a merger between IBM and Sun Microsystems. That non information led to a non million dollar windfall for Raj’s funds. Being a relatively non player in the game of nonsense, Raj is no match for our final contestant.

Bernie Madoff, come on down. As you can see, Bernie is being led to the board in a wonderful orange jumpsuit. That’s because Bernie has already been convicted of running the biggest ponzi scheme this side of organized religion. He managed to ruin more people’s lives than the Internet.

CHANCE: Go Directly Back To Jail, You D-BAG!

The list of Madoff’s d-baggery is so extensive will be in jail for the next two lifetimes and that’s still not enough punishment. There is a special level of Hades for this d-bag and I hope he’s made friends with the sisters on the inside. I’d love to hear that voice over being done by Morgan Freeman.

Today’s match brought to you by Cash4Gold and other fine scam artists.

2009 D-Bag Awards - Heat Four: A to D List D-Bags

2009-12-22T00:00:00.001-05:00

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends. We're so glad you could attend. Come inside! Come inside! There inside the house you look and you will see. The greatest d-bags since heat number three. Move along! Move along!

The contestant from this heat have all the makings of a great reality show so why go against that notion. We’ve taken our contestants and locked them in a house. Find out what happens when people stop being polite and start acting like a d-bag.

Lindsay Lohan
Megan Fox
Heidi and Spencer Pratt
Ryan Jenkins
Chris Brown
Kanye West
Chad Johnson
Manny Ramirez

As we lock all the contestants in the house we have our first forfeit. It seems both Heidi and Spencer are claiming that they are being tortured after riding up to the D-Bag house in a stretch limo. They have decided to leave before ever stepping foot inside the house. Once the door is closed, it will not be opened until we have crowned a winner… and Heidi and Spencer Pratt are now back, choosing to join the competition, again. Let’s hope that we have no more….and they’re gone again.

Now that everyone is in, we will begin our first competition for head of household. The task set before out hose mates is to stand perfectly still and not open their mouths. The one who can go the longest is the winner. As I’m saying this, Megan Fox is talking incessantly and is disqualified for this challenge. Even she walks away, she is still talking. She is continually putting the word uber in front of every word she says. It’s almost like D-bag Latin or something.

Now, Chad Johnson is out because he has violated the rules of the task and while not actually speaking, he is tweeting to his fans about how cool he is and how he is going to give me a dollar after he wins the challenge.

Ryan Jenkins looks a little unstable but is very still. I’ve asked the judges to do some background checking on him to see if there are any issues with his character. I’ve been assured that he is perfectly fine and is capable of enduring the test. I ask them to check again, because he has just taken a large butcher knife and hacked Lindsay Lohan to pieces.

Manny Ramirez has been suspended for two challenges because it was discovered that he took a performance enhancing drug that rendered him in a catatonic like state.

It is now, neck and neck between Kanye West and Chris Brown. Oh, there goes Kanye. The cameraman got too close and he attacked him. That leaves Chris Brown as head of household. There is some post challenge activity as two potential d-bag contestants, namely Tareq and Michaele Salahi, have crashed the competition looking to get into the reality show. Secret Service has been dispatched but they gave them slip with a "They went that-a-way" move while wearing lampshades. No worries, Ryan Jenkins is on it.

As we head back to the living room for our first elimination we find Heidi and Spencer sitting on the couch. We’re not even sure how they got back into the house, but it is of no matter because Ryan Jenkins has killed them as well. As we clean up the Pratt’s we get down to the elimination. Chris Brown is head of household and immune. The remaining members of the household each vote, unanimously, to remove Ryan Jenkins from the house. With Ryan being selected for elimination, he is removed from competition and subsequently eaten by Megan Fox who truly is a demon. Not wanting to go quietly, Ryan has stabbed Megan repeatedly causing her to bleed out. It’s a shame really, her performance was a bit robotic, but she really transformed herself into a total d-bag over the last year. The Vegas bookies are going to take a loss on this one.

The final challenge is set to go. The members of the household must go through the rest of the day without drawing attention to themselves. Now, there is a secret task that, if completed, will guarantee a win. The task has not been revealed to anyone in the house or the audience.

As the competition starts, Chad Johnson has already begun to cause a stir as he has decided to don a sombrero and poncho and insists on being called Ocho Cinco. He is doing that because he wants to be called by his jersey number of 85. What he fails to realize, and what could have been considered the coup d-bag, is that 85 in Spanish is ochenta y cinco. Ocho cinco is merely the number eight and five. Kanye has ripped down the blinds in the house and fashioned himself a pair of sunglasses. He’ll take a penalty for defacing property and drawing attention to himself. Manny Ramirez has a lock on the win but has decided to quit the competition and take a shower. Wow, that was a surprise move. I’m glad his team gave him all that money to compete. That leaves Chris Brown as the winner of the challenge a second time, and…and…what’s this? Kanye West has broken into the booth and is taking my micr…..

Kanye: Yo, Chris, I’m really happy for you, I’ma let you finish but Ocho Cinco is the biggest D-Bag of all time.

After that disruption, Kanye has handed me back the microphone and I’m getting word from the judges that Kanye West has completed the secret task and has automatically won the competition for biggest D-Bag in this heat. Apparently, unselfishly giving away the title of biggest D-Bag was the secret task.

Here’s the statistics
Chris Brown got his D-Bag status off to an early start by being arrested for domestic violence against singer Rihanna. Since then, he’s pretty much become irrelevant while Rihanna has used the experience to come back stronger. Heidi and Spencer Pratt, apart from being wastes of space, made themselves total D-Bags on the reality show I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here. If they would have just went away and stayed away, they could have saved us all a few brain cells. Manny Ramirez has had an eventful year in that he was suspended for performance enhancing drugs and decided to leave the most important Dodgers game of the year in the ninth inning because he thought he smelled funky.

Ryan Jenkins killed his wife after being allowed to exist on not one reality show, Megan Wants a Millionaire, but a second I Love Money 3. How this nut job made it past the censors and onto television is beyond me. Oh, wait a minute, that’s right, reality shows don’t give a crap about personal safety and ethics. They want a cheap train wreck to drive viewership up. Somewhere in a board room, I’m sure that the discussion of a person’s background comes up and then they roll the dice on what could happen. They also probably goad their contestants to get the best and craziest performance out of them.

Megan Fox and Lindsay Lohan are equal in talent as well as D-Baggery. But while Lindsay is heading towards total crash and burn, sex tape, overdose, Gary Buseyville, Megan Fox shows no sign of stopping and repeatedly opens her mouth letting insanity spew forth. She compares herself to other actresses with 10 times more talent and frankly, what she doesn’t realize is that most guys look at her while holding an athletic sock in one hand.

Chad Johnson, yes I refuse to call him Eight Five, may have some modicum of talent on the field, he totally overshadows it with his antics in the end zone. The fact that the NFL continually just fines the guy for being a d-bag gives them an honorary award as he should be suspended, for the playoffs and possibly longer. But that won’t happen, not when he makes the league money in fines and merchandise. What is really great about Chad being a D-bag is that since 2003 he has only scored three touchdowns against the Steelers. Sorry, just a fan, here but stats don’t lie. The almost irrelevant rivalry between the Steelers and the Bengals comes down to the fact that they continue to be the bigger dogs yet end up screwing themselves in the end. This year is the exception as they lead the AFC North and have playoff dreams while Pittsburgh is doing the math.

Kanye West however takes the microphone of D-Baggery away from them all and comes out on top, moving to the next round. His interruption at the VMA awards this year was ridiculous. Regardless of how much talent Taylor Swift lacks, he lacks class.

Today’s match has been brought to you by the numbers 8 and 5 and the letter D. No real talent was harmed during this post as no real talent was present.

2009 D-Bag Awards - Heat Three: Political D-Bags

2009-12-21T07:50:00.002-05:00

This is going to be a big match up. Due to economic hardships and attention deficit disorder, the IDC (International D-Bag Committee) has decided to merge the international competition into the United States Tournament. In an unprecedented event, D-bag delegates from Iran and North Korea are going to compete for a shot at the world title against American competitors early on in the tournament.

This heat will consist of a pageant of sorts. Each contestant will be judged on five areas of competition, Interview, Talent, Lifestyle & Fitness in Swimsuit, Evening Wear, and Onstage Question. Here are your contestants.

Rod Blagojevich (Former Governor of Illinois)
Sarah Palin (Former Governor of Alaska and Former Vice Presidential Nominee)
Kim Jong Il (Leader of North Korea)
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (Leader of Iran)
Mark Sanford (Governor of South Carolina)
John Edwards (Fmr. Senator from North Carolina, Fmr. Vice Presidential Nominee, Fmr. Presidential Nominee Hopeful)

Ok, let’s kick things off with the personal interview. Governor Mark Sanford, can you describe what makes you most proud to be in your role as leader? Um, Governor? Has anyone seen the Governor? We are getting word that Mark Sanford has taken an indefinite leave of absence to hike the Appalachian Trail. Oh, I’m sorry, I mean he’s in Argentina nailing some broad. I guess that opens our competition with a forfeit for the Governor. His wife has left the auditorium and is filing divorce proceedings as we speak.

Our next interview is with John Edwards. Mr. Edwards, tell us what it is like to have been in the running for the White House twice and come up short? Um, who are you? Ok, we are being told that Mr. Edwards is claiming that he isn’t a d-bag and that his former campaign aide, Andrew Young is the real d-bag and should be interviewed. Mr. Edwards has also initially claimed that it isn’t even his d-bag even though he promised to be the d-bag after his wife dies of cancer and he will make a solid commitment to being the d-bag in a roof top ceremony with The Dave Matthews Band giving a performance. Wow, that’s two contestants out in the first round. I was really looking forward to the evening wear round for a look at John Edwards’ flawless hair.

Next up, another helmet haired contestant, Rod Blagojevich.
Fmr. Governor, what do you think was your biggest mistake while in office?

Blago: Not getting the money up front.

Good answer. What has life been like for you in 2009?

Blago: Hold on a second. Where’s the football?

Ok, it appears we need to take a minute for Rod to comb his hair. One of his assistants is bringing him a brush in a briefcase. I think he’s done now.

Blago: Ok, where was I? Yes, 2009. I think the year has been hard. I mean I got kicked out of office, I couldn’t be on I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here and travel restrictions have prevented me from really taking advantage of my post scandal fame. It’s a bummer, man.

Thank you Rod.

Now onto North Korean Leader Kim Jong-Il Dear Leader can you describe what it means to the people of North Korea that you are here competing?

Kim Jong-Il (Through Interpreter) Competing? There is no competition. I am magical and the best there is. No matter where I go, I bring North Korea with me. In fact, you are in violation of trespassing onto North Korean soil. You will be seized and be forced to work 12 years of hard labor. Guards.

Apparently, Kim Jong-Il is talking to a light stand and I think he might be a little demented. Um, we really can’t tell but we think he believes that he is surrounded by guards and that they are going to take me into custody. I think we better take a break until we can figure this out. Oh, there he goes for the boom mic. Yep, he thinks it’s an American drone ship. It appears that he is attempting to toss his pen at the microphone, spouting something about long range missiles but his aim is terrible. We’ll be right back.

We have successfully managed to negotiate my release as well as convince Kim Jong-Il that our green room was one of his palaces. Unfortunately, he has annexed it along with the Craft Services table and has built a fort with the chairs and blanket inside.

Next up, we have Iranian Leader Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

Mahmoud, can you tell us what you believe makes you the biggest d-bag of 2009?

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad: (Inaudible response.)

I’m sorry Mr. President we couldn’t quite make that out. There seems to be a huge protest going on right next to us. It appears that numerous Iranian protesters are shouting something about fraud and scandal over your nomination. Hold on a second. Excuse me. You realize that this is an award for being the biggest D-bag of the year, right? Ok, the translator has relayed the message and now it appears that they are cheering Mahmoud Ahmadinejad on. I’m afraid we’ll have to skip the interview, however, due to continued disruptions.

Last, but certainly not.. well whatever, Sarah Palin.

Fmr. Governor Palin, that’s a lovely shade of red your pant suit has.

Sarah Palin: Why thank you. I picked up it at the RNC’s yard sale. It looks just like the one I wore on the campaign trail.

Um, Sarah, I believe that is the actual suit. I think the RNC is trying to recoup the costs of the campaign from last year. Now, you’ve had quite a busy year, your daughter, Bristol, gave birth just before 2009 started. Then her and Levi broke up, you gave up your office as Governor of Alaska and wrote a book. How do you find the time to stay so relevant?

Sarah: Oh well, you know, we Alaskans aren’t just up there on top of the world to keep the snow of the rest of, ya. We’re busy and we keep ourselves going on the notion that any day, some Russian could just show up unannounced on our beach. People always think that Red Dawn was a possibility. Youknow, that the Russians could move through Alaska and overthrow the United States. Well, I can tell you that would never happen. Alaskans are always vigil and could see a Russian attack coming because of the proximity. Those Ruskies would never make it out of the boats.

Ms. Palin, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.

We’re just going to end this round and catch up later. After a long day of competition we bring you this update.

During the talent portion of the competition Rod Blagojevich was disqualified for trying to sell John Edwards vacant position to the highest bidder, in attempt to pay off his extensive Paul Mitchell bills. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad performed a stand up routine but most of his jokes about Jewish people fell flat due to him not being Jewish. Sarah Palin wowed the crowd with a display of marksmanship as she successfully wiped out an entire species of rare wolves without reloading her automatic rifle. But by far, the star of the talent competition was Kim Jong-Il who simultaneously wrote and performed an aria while sinking an impressive hole in one on a 560 yard par five hole, that was completely under water.

During the Swimsuit competition, Sarah Palin appeared in what looked like a swimsuit but the judges are investigating that it really wasn’t Palin, from today, but a version of Palin from another competition. Kim Jong-Il showed up in a lovely one piece swimsuit, circa 1924 and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad wore a speedo that pretty much let us know he really wasn’t Jewish.

In evening wear competition, Sarah Palin busted out her old pageant dress and was nice enough to bring little Trig out with her. In fact, she spent more time showing off Trig than herself, much to the "oohs" and "awws" of the crowd. Kim Jong-Il forfeited when it was discovered that while he claimed to have designed and stitched his own tuxedo, in reality, sweat shop workers from North Korea were flown in to do the work. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad really didn’t impress us all that much as he came out in a tan suit, without a tie, and was unshaven.

In the end the all important event, the Onstage Question was ultimately thrown out. Quite frankly, we aren’t even exactly sure what happened, but Sarah Palin was asked a question and then she went into a three hour long rant that made absolutely no sense, and quite frankly I fell asleep during, only to wake up as she plugged her new book three times, brought Trig back out to get the crowd back into it and then she just stopped talking all together. She stood there for about three minutes and then walked off the stage. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad had already left, thinking that the entire competition was a myth.

So, it looks like everyone else was either disqualified or quit making Sarah Palin the winner of this round. We’d like to congratulate her but it seems that she’s off on another book signing, with Trig in tow.

Here’s the breakdown.
If you had to compare John Edwards to Mark Sanford, you could say that Mark was the bigger d-bag for putting the line of leadership in South Carolina in jeopardy by going off the grid to get a little nookie. However, John Edwards is hands down the bigger d-bag because of his cheating, fathering, and ultimately denying the child and affair all while his wife battled cancer. However, when it comes to political d-baggery, Rod Blagojevich held his own auction for a senate seat and pretty much is just an ass hat beyond that. Out of the international stage, Kim Jong-Il is losing relevancy and his marbles. He’s living in his own version of Oz and he claims to be able to make it rain better than Pac-Man Jones at a strip club. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is truly a d-bag in his own right, and quite frankly, the holocaust was real but I think his presidency is the myth. So, that leaves you with Sarah Palin. She continues to keep kicking the dead fame horse and will do so for the next four years. Quite frankly, if she can maintain any sense of relevancy beyond 2010 I will be shocked. If she can do it, expect her to run for the GOP ticket. If the Republicans are dumb enough to think she can be their savior then they are really screwed. If they think like McCain did, they will try to use her to gain the popularity vote, hoping to influence the electoral college to vote for her but they will spend the next two years deprogramming and brainwashing her into a robot that will be able to follow the party line and not go rogue. The hollowed out shell of Sarahcuda will be nothing more than lipstick on an elephant.

Today’s competition was brought to you by Lens Crafters and Brylcream. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s wardrobe by Botany 500.

2009 D-Bag Awards Heat Two: D-Bag Dads

2009-12-19T00:00:00.004-05:00

In this match up we have three dads and a dead guy competing for the chance to move on to round two.

Richard Heene
John Phillips
Jon Gosselin
Roman Polanski

The heat is a bit lopsided as we have three live contestants and a corpse. That shouldn’t be too much problem as Team Phillips has submitted a substitution for John in the form of his daughter, Mackenzie Phillips, carrying the urn containing her Dad's ashes. As we await the start of the match some of the contestants are doing some unusual pregame warm-ups. Richard Heene is conducting some weather experiments and Jon Gosselin is trying to get the digits of some coed in the stands with a Penn State sweatshirt. Apparently there’s a frat party immediately after the match and he’s offering to make a beer run. I tell ya, he better focus on this competition instead of her Levis or he’s not going to fare too well.

Ok, as all the contestants and ashes of contestants come up to the line we get set to go. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with this contest, we’ll explain. The playing field contains numerous structures in which children are hidden. The object is for the fathers to locate their actual children among the structures. Now this will be a hard task for Gosselin as he has to find all eight kids, while Polanski and Heene have only two and three to look for. Mackenzie, standing in for her dead father has to find her half siblings and that gives her the edge because she’s already found herself, so she comes in one up on the others.

There’s the whistle and they’re off like a shot. Roman Polanski sneaks from structure to structure to avoid detection. His work is amazing as the camera really follows him well. The shots we are getting in the booth are fantastic. Jon Gosselin manages to find the older twins right away but loses them in a bitter custody battle with his wife. He seems to be distracted by another coed in the stands. Oh, look out. His wife whisked the kids right out from under him. We’ll have to get a judge’s ruling on whether or not that counts towards his final goal.

Mackenzie is taking the course one day at a time and seems to be unsure on whether or not she should check out a particular garage. She opens the door and there’s Chynna. Wow, that was an "Impulsive" move to check out the garage. Now, there’s a fight over allegations that their father carried on the affair with Mackenzie, while high. Chynna is saying "Release Me." This could be a setback for Mackenzie.

And where is Richard Heene? He’s still at the starting line conducting some experiment. Now, he’s done and heading out into the field. There are a few places he could start looking. My bet is the tethered Mylar balloon immediately to his right. But the crowd seems to be shouting at Richard to check the garage where Mackenzie Phillips found her sister Chynna. Apparently, they are yelling about Falcon being in the rafters of the garage. Oh, and now we have a new development, the balloon that was tethered to the field has just snapped its line and is floating away. Boy, you have to hate when that happens. You go to a sporting event and someone loses a balloon that just stops all the action as everyone turns to watch it float away.

As attention focuses back on the field we now have our first disqualification. Roman Polanski stopped looking for his children and followed a 13 year old girl into a replica of Jack Nicholson’s house. That’s not even the half of it. Chris Hanson and a troop of Swiss officers were waiting inside to ambush Polanski and he has been taken into custody. Turns out that 13 year old girl was really an undercover cop who just looks young for her age. Still, I don’t see how this is a disqualification for Roman…Uh oh, they found Quaaludes on him. Yeah, that’s the reason. Performance Diminishing drugs are a no-no. As Polanski is hauled away we can see his children Morgane and Elvis sitting with Mother Emmanuelle Seigner in the stands. It was all a ruse.

The remaining contestants have continued to scatter about the field. Gossellin has managed to find all but one of his kids and is constantly complaining about the lack of coverage he’s getting from the cameras. He also seems to be yelling at the officials over his compensation for appearing in the games. Well, that will hinder his performance a bit. Meanwhile, Richard Heene has found Falcon. He was indeed hiding in the attic and we’re waiting from a ruling on the field over whether or not Heene had previous knowledge about Falcon’s whereabouts. The other two kids are nowhere to be found but there is a rap video playing on the jumbo tron in the center of the field which looks to be starring Heene’s other kids. I think the FCC will have something to say unless we go to a seven second delay, here.

Mackenzie has just stopped searching for siblings and is instead doing a bunch of talk shows, so I guess we can count her out, too. Looks like we are down to Jon Gossellin and Richard Heene. Oh, wait. Spike TV offered Jon a talk show for single guys and he immediately dropped all of his kids. That leaves Richard Heene, who enticed his other kids out of hiding with a combination of Mountain Dew, pixie sticks, and the DVD box set for Deadwood. He is the winner. What a surreal finish.

Here’s the final breakdown.

John Phillips is dead so we can only take his daughter’s ramblings to anyone who will listen as evidence of the actual abuse.

Roman Polanski was the coyote to the Swiss Police’s roadrunner and fell for the old "Come-accept-this-reward" ploy. He was arrested and is finally going to start the proceedings into the case. Now, whether it will be a "rape, rape" case or just a rape case remains to be seen. The fact that this happened 30 years ago puts him out of the running as he is only guilty of being an idiot for getting caught in 2009. He would have won the 1978 award hands down.

Jon Gossellin is just in it for the money, so I say we just make him go away and hopefully he will take his ex-wife with him. That whole train wreck of a divorce and custody battle shouldn’t even be talked about let alone put on camera.

Richard Heene rises above the competition. Jon Gosselin may be a cheating scumbag who wanted to cash in on his 15 minutes but Richard Heene tried to buy his time by reporting an incident that never happened, wasted taxpayer money on the wild goose chase, including diverting air traffic from DIA. Not to mention, his kids are YouTube rap stars that just shows how bad of a parent this guy is. He needs to be taken to D-Bag prison camp and water boarded. But instead, he floats away to round two while we go around and collect the rest of Gosselin’s wayward children.

Today’s match has been brought to you by the medical doctors of Holder, Roper and Nutter. Physicians who specialize in proactively performing castrations on potential d-bags before they can procreate. They save the tax payers money and the general public much needed brain cells by disallowing idiots to reproduce exponentially in order to get a reality show. They are medical insurance friendly. If only they would have been around to stop Kevin Federline and The Duggars after kid four. Honestly, does she just have a zipper on her abdomen, or what?

2009 D-Bag Awards - Heat One: D-Bag Dogs

2009-12-18T11:36:00.001-05:00

In the race to be the biggest D-bag of 2009, a few contenders thought it would be good to carry on affairs or be a bit of a dog, otherwise. In this heat we have four men who, throughout the course of the year, were caught with their pants down or wound up being exposed later on by no choice of their own.

Tiger Woods (Pro Golfer)
Charles Barkley (Former Pro Basketball Player and Talk Show Host)
Steve Phillips (Former NY Mets Manager and ESPN Baseball Analyst)
Dave Letterman (Late Show host and comedian)

At the starting gate, everything looks normal. Everyone is in their car and ready. Wait a minute, what’s this? David Letterman is motioning for an official to come over to his car and look inside. Someone has apparently left a note of some sort. He’s leaving the track and heading for the press box. Ladies and gentlemen, this is unprecedented. Dave Letterman is actually coming into the press box and admitting to an affair with a member of his staff. The other racers are just stunned by this turn of events.

Oh, there goes Barkley. He’s decided to just start driving erratically around the track with his female passenger. Apparently, he has somewhere to be in a hurry. Steve Phillips is sitting there checking his voice mail and, OH MY, Elin Nordegren is now on the track chasing down Tiger Woods’ in his Escalade with a golf club. She’s shouting something in Swedish about porn stars and pancakes. Tiger has attempted to elude his angered wife but has crashed into Charles Barkley. What’s Steve Phillips waiting for? Apparently, he is unable to go anywhere because a 22 year old production assistant is blocking the way. She’s literally laying down in front of his vehicle, preventing him from moving.

Meanwhile, Dave Letterman is apologizing and making jokes at his own expense. Tiger has crawled out of the wrecked Escalade, bruised and battered. Uh, Oh. The Escalade’s back door has opened up and as if this was some kind of circus clown car, 12 women climb out and scatter about the track looking for an open camera. Steve Phillips is still sitting there, now reading a pink slip from ESPN and his mistress is still laying in the middle of the track. She appears to be on her phone updating her myspace mood and Facebook status while playing Scrabble with Phillips son, online. Barkley is admonishing Tiger for not coming clean about the affairs and Dave Letterman is doing a Top Ten List.

It’s a hell of a day at the races.

Here’s how it all stacks up.

Dave Letterman came clean about the affair in front of a Live Studio Audience and even though he did have an extensive affair with one of his employees he pretty much disqualifies himself from contention after he admitted to everything and took it on the chin.

Charles Barkley had a moment of blood rushing to the wrong brain and ran a stop sign on his way to get some you know what from a female passenger. He was driving under the influence and was arrested. His endorsements dried up but came back after they realized that no one really saw the relevance of Barkley as a personality anymore.

Steve Phillips did a huge disservice to his family by picking a nut job for a mistress but furthermore he brought his work home with him since Hundley decided to friend his son, write his wife and show up on their lawn. He lost his wife and his job.

However, above all of this nothing can outshine the mess that was Tiger Woods’ affair(s). This whole business unraveled faster than Tiger’s game at the HSBC Champions match in November. The accident triggered the media frenzy speculating that his wife did not “rescue” him from his wrecked Cadillac but actually chased him after she found out he had an affair. Then Tiger started racking up more mistresses that almost rivaled his championship record. How he was able to keep this all going is still a mystery but I think we haven’t heard the last of this yet. More women, more secrets, more lost endorsements are in Tiger’s future and probably all before the Masters in 2010, if he even plays. Of these four dogs, Tiger is the biggest D-Bag of 2009. He moves onto the next round.

Today’s race has been brought to you by the new iPhone App Cheetah. Inspired by Tiger Woods’ intricately woven illusion of wholesome image and naughty night life, the Cheetah App allows you to plan, track, reschedule and juggle all your mistresses from your iPhone. You can set alerts and tasks to remind you of their names and what they like to do for fun. Hit the quick shot button and you’ll have an instant canned phrase that not only compliments your mistress on her looks but also serves to instill her with the confidence that she’s the only one for you. The Cheetah App also comes with a wife tracker. Constantly know where your wife is at all times with this GPS goodie that allows you to avoid capture while you are leaving voice mails for your vixens. The best feature of this app is that with the push of one button, all your indiscretions automatically switch off and are hidden from view. If your suspicious spouse gets a hold of your phone all she’ll find is a list of Christmas gifts you’ve been planning to buy her and a huge ass rock from the jeweler that you are eyeing up for her. The Cheetah app makes your smart pone smarter.

2009 D-Bag Awards

2009-12-17T12:00:00.004-05:00

It’s getting close to the end of the year and here at M.A.M.S. we’d thought we’d look back at 2009 and see who was the biggest d-bag of all. When I say “we” I mean “me” and the voices in my head. 2009 was quite the year for d-baggery. Usually, in case like this, I would do a straightforward list. But I wanted to be a little different and thought it would be fun to pit these folks against each other for my amusement. The worst part about it is having to only choose 32 competitors. There were a lot more that I wanted to include but felt that the field would be too diluted.

The remaining few weeks of 2009 are filled with retrospective lists of pop culture goodness. Unfortunately, to compete with everyone else, the demand for supremacy ultimately causes some list makers to miss out on crucial proponents of their topic that occur after press time. I have been planning a list of the biggest d-bags of 2009 and had hoped to publish them before the end of the year but had I done so I would have missed out on one of the biggest stories of the year. So, I waited and tried to gather more research in order to bring you a more complete list. Unfortunately, this project comes right at the busiest time, the holidays.

I had such hopes to do something exciting and different with this post. I had it all planned out as a March Madness style tournament that would bring matchups between nominees based on their area of d-baggery using bracketology. I just don’t have the time to be that creative and the scope of this project is way beyond me, so let’s just do this as simple as possible. So, here are the list of nominations in their matches. We’ll go from there.

D-Bag Dogs

Tiger Woods
Charles Barkley
David Letterman
Steve Phillips

D-Bag Dads

Jon Gosselin
Richard Heene
John Phillips
Roman Polanski

Deadly D-Bags

H1N1
Salmonella
Death
Conrad Murray

Political D-Bags

Rod Blagojevich
Sarah Palin
Kim Jong Il
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
Mark Sanford
John Edwards

A to D List D-Bags

Lindsay Lohan
Megan Fox
Heidi and Spencer Pratt
Ryan Jenkins
Chris Brown
Kanye West
Chad Johnson
Manny Ramirez

Million Dollar D-Bags

Wall Street
Auto Industry
Fox
NBC
Raj Rajaratnam
Bernie Madoff

Merry Christmas To Me?

2009-12-16T12:11:00.003-05:00

My issues with cars, good and bad, has nearly reached legendary status here on the blog. I’ve told you how I can pack nearly anything into a car, how much I loathe snow tires, how goofy electrical issues keep me up at night and how bad I have it with brakes, wheels and transmissions. I’ve also told you how Christmas can be very expensive to a car owner and that beings us up to date. Although, I expect each and every one of you to go back and read all those posts as a homework assignment. I’m kidding. You have far better things to read about, I’m sure. *sniff*

So, to summarily bring you up to speed, I used to drive a 97’ Chevy Cavalier, which I loved and then the head gasket blew in 2005. As my wife and I searched for a new car, I zeroed in on a 2005 Malibu Maxx. I drove it for two years until our daughter was born. I then handed over the keys [read: pried out of my hands] to her to have it as the Mom Mobile and began driving her 99’ Pontiac Sunfire. I drove that for two years in which time the transmission, gas gauge, air conditioning, brakes, rotors, exhaust and little volume knob on the radio broke or needed replaced. Each year instead of a car payment I put almost $500 into keeping it road worthy. Knowing full well that this car would not pass inspection at the end of the year I made the decision to start looking for a replacement.

Both my wife and I tend to differ on what is acceptable in price and features on most things including cars, vacation rentals and other things. Still, we work together well when it comes down to the important things like picking a color. I say that, lovingly, as my wife will be the enforcer and I can rely on her to help beat the sales person into submission, but she sometimes reveals too much when she walks in off the street. She’d make a great poker player, if the object was to show everyone your cards as soon as you get them. However, we did agree on one thing in our list of features we wanted in a new car, four cylinders.

That seems rather trivial but we have a V6 on the Maxx and it does eat a lot of gas, at least when she drives it. I can stretch a tank of gas on that thing to 300 miles and still have a quarter of a tank. She’s refilling at 220. But transmission speed aside, she kept telling me, “This is your car. You have to make the payment. It’s your decision.” Yet, every decision I made was met with criticism.

Let’s break down what I wanted on the new car.

Four Doors:
It’s nice to be able to get into the back seat of your own car without having to contort yourself into some weird position. There’s been a few times where I’ve had to grab the car seat from another car and put it into the back of the Pontiac and that is a pain in the ass. I’ve gone to pick my daughter up from being babysat with the Pontiac and she does most of the work getting into and out of the car seat because of how far it sits back from the door.

Four Cylinders:
I do a lot of back road driving on hills to get to work. A V6 is nice to have on those hills, but I only need 4 cylinders everywhere else. That being said, I shunned a lot of cheaper cars because of the size of the engine. 2.0 or better was what I wanted. This pissed me wife off as much as my insistence on 1080p vs. 720p when we shopped for an LCD HDTV. She doesn’t understand those things, she looks at the price.

Hatchback:
I love having the Maxx because it’s a wagon/hatchback. Even though, I’ve managed to fit a 32” television set into the back seat of the a coupe, it’s nice to have that hatch and fold down seats. When we were shopping for the Maxx, I looked at Cobalts and besides being over priced I did not like that the back seat did not fold down flat. I was able to fit a 7’ Christmas tree, still in the box, into the trunk and back seat of my Cavalier. The opening between the trunk and back seat and the angle of which the back seat pitched up when laid down would make it impossible. Now, my wife says this is unnecessary since we have the hatch on the Maxx. I told her, “No, you have the Maxx. I may need it when you are out.”

When we began looking for the car, the auto industry was floundering. I figured it was a good time to buy. I knew I had a good six months to really make a final decision but getting the sales team to sweat it out with me and bring down the bottom line was intriguing. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t pull the trigger on buying a new car. My wife wanted me to get used but at the time, I told her that used car prices were bloated because of the profit margins on them. The brand new vehicles eat into the overhead the longer they sit on the lot. I’d be willing to get a previous year model, brand new, over used vehicle because of the inflated prices. They only way I’d consider a pre-owned vehicle is if it had less than 15,000 miles per year since its production and was less than $15,000. My wife went with $10,000 but I told her that was too much to hope for.

With all those variables in mind I narrowed my choice down to a Top Four List of cars.

I started with the Kia Soul. Regardless of what others thought, I believed it to be a good car.
It had exactly what I wanted in features and I was really ready to loosen my grip on owning a GM vehicle. The Maxx and Sunfire has been hard on brakes, rotors, and other maintenance items that I never had to worry about before on the Cavalier. Being a new model for 2010, there was no way I was going to be able to negotiate pricing.

I then checked out the Scion XD. Scion seemed like a reliable manufacture because of them being part of Toyota. The pure pricing thing irks me because there is no haggle room. I’m sorry, but when they promote that as being beneficial to the customer, it’s really not. They say that because they can’t budge on pricing, you don’t have to worry about the dealer raking you over the coals on pricing and you can go to any dealer and get the same price. I say that it’s crap because then you get screwed on all the additional charges that dealers pad the bottom line with not to mention, I don’t believe that pure pricing addresses the true cost of the vehicle. The bar was set too high from the beginning. Even the used models are maybe a hundred dollars cheaper. Sorry, but where’s that standard 20% depreciation on a car after being driven off the lot? The XD get left for the XB once I sat in one. I nearly clunked my head on the XD but the price on the XB made it impossible to consider.

Chevy HHR was my silver bullet to all this. It had all the features and it was still a GM car which meant I could haggle over brand loyalty, use my GM card rewards, and take advantage of the GM financial issues to bring a new car down into my price range. I could never find one at a dealer. They are either that popular or nobody wants one on their lot. I did find a few used ones that I would have considered but never made it out to a dealer to talk before it was already bought.

Toyota Matrix was a pie in the sky dream that I could never have afforded, even used as most were only in my price range if they had close to 100,000 miles on them. People told me, “Well if you like the Matrix, buy a Pontiac Vibe. No chance. I don’t care how much crap you sling about the Vibe being built on a Matrix chassis. It’s still got Pontiac wiring and that transmission is suspect. In any case, the Vibe was way out of my price range as well. It was a fall back if all else failed.

I thought I’d never get a car at this rate and soon I began noticing that the Sunfire was leaking something. At first I thought the gas line had a hole in it because it always smelled like gas. Then, I noticed black puddles on the ground. I checked the oil and it was full. Someone suggested transmission fluid. Nope. Another suggested something from the head was leaking. The problems were mounting. Now, I couldn’t even start the car unless I turned the key, then stopped, pumped the gas pedal a couple of times and then tried the key again. And on top of all that, the muffler rusted out and the thing sounded awful.

My in-laws had just purchased a PT Cruiser and loved it. They got it used and relatively cheap with low mileage. I had not read anything good on the PT and it was just a little small in the front for my taste. That was another red x on the XD and Soul, the front ends were short and living in deer central, I didn’t want one to come through the dashboard by way of the grille. With only two weeks before the inspection was to run out I made a last ditch effort on searching for cars. It appeared as if the auto industry crisis was over since all the prices on cars were back up again and I missed out on the cash for clunkers deal because the Sunfire wasn’t eligible due to gas mileage. If I had tried to push back a decision and get the Pontiac inspected I would have ended up sinking a good $500 or more into it before the sticker could even go on the plate.

There was a used PT Cruiser at the same dealership my in-laws bought theirs. 2006 touring model with 37,000 miles on it for less than $11,000. I looked up the blue book value and it came back at $9700. I was ready to settle. I walked into the lot and started to make the deal. As we were walking back to the office my wife and I noticed a sharp white vehicle staring at us.

Buy Me

Now, I have no experience with brands outside of GM so I don’t know what is good and what is bad, but I’ve always thought that Mazda had a good reputation. Sitting here was a 2006, Mazda 5 Sport with 37,000 miles on it for a couple thousand more. We wanted to talk numbers before driving it. I managed to work the dealer down $1800 dollars with a trade on the Pontiac. Go figure. Who would have thought I could have gotten anything for that POS? Granted, I know I really got zero for the Pontiac and the dealer was being resistant about bringing down the price since my wife was willing to take the PT Cruiser one way or the other. Also, we came in looking for a small car and ended up being interested in a minivan. Actually, it made a lot of sense. With the Maxx only being a five door sedan we are limited in expanding the family anytime soon. Also, whenever we go anywhere with her parents, we have to take two vehicles to fit everyone. A minivan would solve the problem for awhile and then we could eventually replace the Malibu with a sedan.

After all was said and done we worked out the particulars and took the Mazda for a test drive. I liked it. It had plenty of room, being a six passenger vehicle. It was a four cylinder, hatch back, and both rear doors were sliding. The visibility in front was great. I didn’t like how low to ground it was as going over speed bumps was tense and I didn’t like how there was more wheel than tire on it. Still, it was acceptable and it only took my wife driving it to want it, too. We walked back in and made the deal. I was psyched. The weight of this decision had been bearing down on me for months. Having to drive that leaky, noisy, death trap around was almost unbearable. Finally, I was going to be able to tool around in a car less than ten years old that has a hatch back and four doors. Finally, my wife was on board with a car purchase and we agreed on everything. Finally, I was getting to drive what I want.

I am now the proud driver of a Malibu Maxx...again.

Yeah, I got played. Merry Christmas, honey. Enjoy it.

Everything I Know About Exterior Illumination

2009-12-14T12:00:00.000-05:00

It isn’t much. I can give you a few pointers about lighting the house for the holidays. Unlike Clark W. Griswold, I was never taught the finer points of exterior illumination. I was never shown how to hang lights. I did it all on the fly.

As a home owner, I find myself staring at the potential of yard while trying to shake off the reality of what I have to work with there. First of all, I have no real landscaping going on here. Around the front of the house between the garage and the front porch I have a bed of river rocks that have been picked through on occasion to put into the bottom of planters for drainage. There is a rose bush that has seen better days. In fact, I wouldn’t even call it a rose bush. It is more of the Charlie Brown Christmas Trees of rose bushes. On either side of the front porch are these god awful huge hedges that look like mullets. They are green on top and in on the front while the backs facing towards the porch are mostly branches with no leaves. My first year in the house I wanted to trim them down a hell of a lot. I trimmed the electrical more than the hedges in that case. Lastly, nestled in between both hedges is a row of those leafy looking ones that have enough bare spots that it looks like the making of a bad comb over.

So, this is what I have to work with. For the first four years I had to continually add more lights to the strands to cover the bushes as they grow out of control. First rule of thumb. You can never have enough lights. I’m not talking 25,000 imported Italian twinkle lights. I’m talking about having a healthy supply of unopened lights on hand to replace the ones you end up destroying when you take them down in the Spring. Yes, I said Spring.

Second rule of thumb. Have a lot of fuses on hand. I went through three sets of fuses before I realized I had too many strands plugged into each other. Don’t go above four per plug. Get yourself a hub of outlets that you can stick into the ground and plug your lights into it.

Third rule of thumb. Those notions that if one light goes out the rest stay lit is less believable than Santa Claus. One goes out and half the strand goes out. You know what those are good for? They take up a lot of space in the garbage can. Toss them. I have spent countless hours standing in the cold weather trying to check each and every bulb for the burned out one. That’s why you buy a lot of lights. They are pretty cheap and as long as you buy a good supply you can the same brand. I have also spent countless hours pulling the actual bulbs out of the base of the plug and threading them into another base on the affected strand to try and salvage a strand.

Fourth rule of thumb. Even though it sucks working in the dark, pick a cloudy day or one closer to evening. You can see what you are doing and have a better sense of the finished product. I’ve spent an entire afternoon hanging up the lights, feeling proud of myself, only to have my wife come out and say, “You need more lights” or “Why does it look like a Sudoku puzzle?”

Fifth rule of thumb. When you do actually take down the lights, wrap them up nicely. You will save so much time and aggravation if you remove a strand of lights, lay it out and make sure it still works. Then, take the female plug end, lay it in your palm and fold the lights back and forth with a bulb at either end of your palm until you reach the male plug end, wrap that around the bunch a few times and plug it into itself.

Now, I have no rules for running lights around the roof of the house. I don’t get up on a ladder unless I am cleaning out my gutters and in that case, I get up on the roof and work from there. I will say that I would avoid rope lights at all cost. If one of those things goes out, you have no chance of replacing the burned out bulbs.

Beyond that, I wrap the lamp post in my yard with a garland / light twist with a red bow at the top, put three spot lights in my yard and hang wreaths on all the windows. That’s it. Simplicity.

So, if you haven’t already put up those lights, then realize that there are only 11 days till Christmas. Might want to get out there, regardless of the weather.

I’m just saying.

How ABC Stole Christmas

2009-12-09T11:30:00.002-05:00

As a holiday purist, I feel the need to be entertained by the classics this of year. Traditionally, I have found it comforting to engage in YuleTube type cheer. Every year I sit on the edge of my seat hoping that little star can make his way to the top of the Christmas Tree and I tear up as the tree lends a branch to help its celestial friend. I go a wassailing, humming my favorite carol, The "12 Days of Christmas," PA Lottery style. “Five Cash Five!” I sniff and get a warm fuzzy when Peter makes it home for Christmas and makes Folgers coffee for his family.

And as that purist I feel it necessary to indoctrinate my daughter in the ways of winter watching and sat down with her last night to watch my annual favorite, A Charlie Brown Christmas. Now, I own the classic on DVD, along with The Great Pumpkin, but there is something about watching it when it comes on television, complete with commercials. Even though I recorded it and watched it later that night, it’s still holds the same effect.

So, there we are, the happy family, all snuggled up on the blanket spread out on the floor this December 8th, 2009. The lights in the house are all off, except for the tree. As we sit there, we all share in a little bit of eggnog to make the season bright. The opening comes on and I am six years old again. I am the kind of person that will sit and watch, intently. My eyes rarely blink or leave focus from the set. It’s hard to hold a conversation with me during this event and don’t ask me to take out the trash. I am in the zone.

Unfortunately, with parenthood comes inevitable and constant distraction. I have learned to leave the zone to take care of business, should it arise. The cats wrestling under the tree interrupts you or the child spills a bit of eggnog on her pajamas. In any case, even though I have seen the show hundreds of times, I can tell you what will happen next. Even with my distracted state I picked up on something strange. “Hey, how come Charlie Brown didn’t press Violet about not getting a Christmas card?” "Why aren't they eating snowflakes?" “Where was Sally’s letter to Santa, ‘10s and 20s’?” “Did Shermy not get repeatedly cast as a shepherd in every play? And where was the scene where Schroeder bangs out Jingle Bells, on his toy piano, one note at a time to a unconvinced Lucy?”

My wife wondered the same thing, ultimately revealing that she does in fact pay attention and can recall the show even though she thinks I am a dork for continually watching it. I backed up the DVR and reviewed key moments of the show and indeed those scenes were missing. WTF?* (mandatory quota for txt speak reached)

I then checked the wire for news about this atrocity. As I scour the Internet for clues I question the reasons for this meatball surgical approach to a holiday institution. Usually, when something is aired on television you have make exceptions for editing. It’s unavoidable. This is not however acceptable in the case of say G4 airing a butchered version of The Goonies or this particular childhood classic. You do not mess with Charlie Brown. Although, my wife and I both admit that we are somewhat jaded because we cannot help but remember an SNL skit where the TV Funhouse animated shorts lampooned A Charlie Brown Christmas. It was hysterical but has destroyed one of my childhood innocent childhood moments. IMDB highlighted the same discourse I had with the network over the airing. Wikipedia even called out the scenes in question, confirming my assessment of the travesty. What I didn’t realize was that even the tracks were screwed up as Charlie Brown mouths the words, “That’s it!” during the therapy session before the audio cue comes up. One could toss this recognition away at the limited animation quality of the 1965, but us geeks know our shit and we are pissed!

I found out that the reason for this butchering of my childhood was to make room for Disney’s new special Prep and Landing…of course we all know that Disney owns ABC and this was purely a business decision and mockery of that which A Charlie Brown Christmas tries to satirize, commercialism at Christmas. One need look further than the commercials aired throughout the special enticing children to go see Disney’s new animated movie, The Princess and the Frog. Disney is in that pantheon of evil alongside Walmart and other corporate demons. If the sale of NBC goes through, Comcast will join that table of sin and soon the ruination of television will be all but complete.

I feel personally slighted by this attack on my nostalgic memories of days when you could come in from playing in the cold snow, warm up with a cup of hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows, and watch the special. I know that in the past there has been several aired versions of the special, including ones that also mocked the show’s message on commercialism with ad placement by Coca Cola and Dolly Madison along with removing references to commercialism altogether. But in the past few years, I had hoped that we have gained a sense of preservation and have gone back to showing the classic in its entirety. I guess not. I guess ABC will have to forgo my viewership so that I can watch the special as it was intended, on a shiny disc in digital format.

What’s next for ABC? We all know they air The Ten Commandments right before Easter. This usually pisses off my wife who looks forward to watching the 11:00 news at, um 11:00. I don’t know it just seems right to watch it at the same time as it’s called. So, how about airing an edited version in 2010, cutting it down a few hours. Perhaps we can get rid of the more banal commandments like this whole coveting business and calling out God as our Lord. I think it’s and understood relationship. We pretty much know who he is without a formal announcement. This of course will still preempt the news because of the piggybacking of Disney’s new special on ABC, immediately following and called, Jesus Colors An Egg.

Really ABC, was it worth it? Do you feel good about this move? Of course you do. That’s what Christmas is all about. For shame.

You're Da Bomb, O Tannenbaum

2009-12-07T12:00:00.000-05:00

For a two and a half year old there are certain things, in this world, that are not to be questioned. One is whether or not they want your help on something. My kid’s pre-programmed response to any question of that nature is, “I do it myself.” Another is if they want to help YOU do something. My kid wants to help me work on my laptop, banging away at the keys, popping out the plastic flash card insert or just plain ole yanking the wireless mouse USB receiver right out of the port on the side. But, sometimes her intentions are good. This weekend was the annual Griswold tree trimming event where yours truly makes the long arduous trek up into his attic to retrieve the big ole honking Christmas tree from its secured location in the back of the decorations and to the left of the dismantled futon. Needless to say, it does not fit through the door very well, either way, and tends to leave more paint chips and ripped off insulation in its wake than plastic needles. I accepted it from my in laws as a replacement for the $70 Ames special 6’ 5” Spruce that consists of a pole and 40 or so individual branches that must be fluffed and unfolded before inserting tab A into slot B on its respective tier. This is what we call fun, right?

After doing some light spackling, I’m ready to get the tree into place. The first thing that we have to do is make room. That involves moving the furniture around, flip flopping the entertainment center and the couch and then taking the recliner, AKA my shirt shop design studio, and putting it on the opposite wall, next to the tree. The love seat that was in that spot now gets put up my ass because I have no place for it whatsoever in the living room. Last year we put it in a spare bedroom right after we put on top of one of my cats… long story, go here. But, in order to put the couch into the spare bedroom, we had to slide it down the hall with very little clearance, taking into account door knobs. After that, I to pull the bedroom door off the hinges, remove the legs from the couch and then actually have an empty space to sit it on once in the room. We managed to forgo that geometrical math problem from hell and fit it nicely on the back porch. No, I don’t have an El Camino up on blocks in the driveway. The porch is enclosed and there is no washing machine out there.

OK, the tree is up and all I have to do is plug it in and decorate it. Prelit trees are cool, huh? Now, why the hell is half of the tree not lit? So, I dismantled Devastator, as I call it, and checked the plugs. This is the one thing I hate about prelit trees. If you lose a strand and the fuses are good, you have to check every bulb and it’s not like they are all clearly marked, and it’s not like I have a lot of light to work with, and it’s not like I have the greatest eyesight in the world. In this situation you have two options. Spend the next two hours checking every single bulb to make sure that it isn’t the problem, or be a Plugger, like I am and just add a string of lights in the darkened areas. My wife hates this method but the tree is one of the few places I win out in an argument. Now, instead of working hard, I like to work smart. Efficiency in the work place as I call it. Let’s wring out problems and have a well oiled machine. Anyway, instead of putting it all together, I started with Devastators bottom, added a string of lights to the darkened area and then added another section and then checked all those plugs.

What occurred next could only be described as hearing the internal thoughts of a referee reviewing a play on the field. “It’s out. No, it’s in. It’s out. It’s in. it’s blinking?” I looked at my wife and said, “Blinking?” The plug must be shot because you had to hold it a certain way to keep the string on and then of course you had two other strands plugged into that one all dependent on the first one’s ability to stay lit. At one point I must have been jiggling the plug, causing it to blink. I finally got it situated into a staying on position and then added two more strands of lights to what was still dark. This isn’t a fire hazard, no.

After getting Devastator’s head on and plugged in, I could begin decorating. Now, this is a point of contention between my wife and I. She wanted to listen to Christmas music while she cleaned and I decorated. The selection on the cable music channels was lacking, although I did enjoy Bob Seger’s “Little Drummer Boy,” so I opted to switch the channel and found ABC Family running Harry Potter movies. That’s Christmas-y right? The point of contention comes in because my wife thinks that I work better without the distraction. I think that commercials make me work faster and get more done while the movie allows me to take time and really get a good look at the tree, making sure all the ornaments are properly placed. They go on in this order. Strands of pearls first. Balls and other solid objects go on next, usually silver, gold, blue, and then burgundy, respectively. Next comes all the specialized ornaments like figurines. Then the ribbon goes around and finally, the bow. If all goes well I should be done in two hours.

Four hours later, my daughter was up and helping me put on the last ornaments. It was a good movie, what can I say? She even helped put on her own ornament and held the ribbon as I ran it around the tree. All the while saying “I help” and “I do it, myself.” I explained that the ornaments are glass and could break. She finally agreed to let me do it and then tried to put the empty cardboard ribbons spools on the tree. Well, they weren’t made of glass, so technically, she was allowed, I guess.

Having the tree up the first weekend of December is a feather in my cap as a holiday purist. Unfortunately, I spend the next three weekends criticizing my work and moving low hanging ornaments up out of the reach of cat and kid. I even found one of them snuggled under the tree skirt, hidden from view. The cat, not the kid. By the end of the month, the bottom of the tree is mostly just lights and the top is laden with all kinds of ornaments that have sought higher ground as if a flood threatened their lower living arrangements.

Usually, my wife has a lot to say about how the tree looks. It’s one of those things that as the decorator you can’t get a handle on because you are too close to it. She nods or asks me to move something, which is fine. At least the one person I can count on to like it is my daughter. After she woke up from her nap and wandered into the living room, the half decorated tree was dim in comparison to her bright eyes and smile. “Oooohh” she said. “That’s a pity Critmas Tree, Daddy-O”

“Thank you.” I reply. “Would you like to put your ornament on?”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” She said.

“Yep. It is.”

$9.99 For the Toilet Parts $150 For the ER Stay and X-Ray

2009-12-03T12:00:00.001-05:00

My issues with home ownership are strewn all over the blog. Just look up the label and you’ll see them. Recently, we had issues with a toilet in our upstairs bathroom. I am by no means a plumber and have very little desire to be on my hands and knees in a cramped space with no room to work. However, the water just stopped flowing one night. The tank will eventually fill up over time but you have to schedule time in the bathroom over the period of the day or grab a jug and fill up the tank. Needless to say, I needed to get to work on it.

We thought the problem was originally because of my daughter, who is becoming more and more obstinate and independent. She is in potty training boot camp which usually consists of her wanting to use the bathroom usually before bath and bedtime. It used to be that she would walk into the bathroom, drop her drawers, and rip off her diaper like it was a parachute ripcord. I imagine the puffed out diaper deploying like the chute of a Looney Tunes character after the hapless cartoon animal hits the ground. Once de-pants she would saddle up to her potty, finish up, ask for paper and then wait for my wife or I to empty the contents into the toilet and then she would flush and close the lid. That was the case for about the first week. Come week two, we are using the potty as a step stool to sit on the insert that goes on the toilet seat. She is now in the minor leagues. Same protocol as before for cleaning up. Now, she wants to do it all by herself, without the insert, and content to just sit over the edge of the seat, teetering like Humpty Dumpty. If you try to get the insert or move the stool, she gets very upset to the point that she will toss the insert aside and move the stool back to its spot across the floor and move it back, all by herself. It’s safe to say the terrible twos are in full swing.

So, this week, after much debate and raised voices, she sat there and waved off my wife from trying to steady her and kerplunk she went into the bowl. That’s not why the toilet won’t flush but it occurred the same night. Turns out the fill valve in the tank is probably shot and needs replaced. Off to the evil blue store I go. I have no problem in admitting that I hate that big blue beacon of corporate retail. I lost some very good stores in my area thanks to it. It’s also creeping into my neighborhood in its attempt at global domination which will most likely increase traffic in an already burgeoning area, which is already congested and beyond road load capacity. Still, I was in need of parts and we were already near one.

My daughter, being little miss independent, doesn’t want to ride in a cart or hold your hand. We insist on it because, quite frankly, if my kid was going to get snatched up by some sicko, it would be here. However, she loves to go shopping and gets very haughty if we don’t all go in, if only for one item. My wife, on the other hand, can’t help but look at everything in the store, even though I have a specific item in mind and only plan on spending five minutes in the store. Can you tell I really did not want to be here? But, it was early in the evening and the thought of finishing up dinner, nightly chores and bath time before 9 PM was enticing enough to me to make the trip out. That’s usually when you find out that your night is going to turn out completely different.

Everything was pretty good up until checkout time. Yes, there was the embarrassing moment when walking through the bra isle, my daughter looked up and yelled “Booby Traps” loud enough that the couple in front of me turned to look and laugh at the comment and my blushing face. Still, for the most part she was being a pretty good girl. After switching guard detail a few times, it was my turn to hold her hand and my wife’s turn to push the cart. I informed my daughter that she had to hold my hand and could not let go. “Someone could take you,” I said. In my mind I remembered why they called the code for missing child Code*Adam. I remember growing up and watching the movie Adam on television. Mostly, I wanted to see it because at the age of seven, I watched Hill Street Blues and knew that Captain Furillo was playing John Walsh. Not knowing that this movie was based on a real story and after the fact, I kept waiting for them to find little Adam Walsh alive. It was the first time in my life I realized that kids were not indestructible and could be hurt and even killed. I suddenly realized that I am mortal and have an expiration date. As my thoughts from little Adam Walsh turned back to the little girl holding my hand, it happened.

It was all so fast. Her independence got the better of her and she tried to pull her hand away from mine. When she couldn’t succeed and started to spin around I knew that I was going to have to pick her up and carry her, cries for freedom be damned. Before I could bend down to pick her up she decided that her best course of action was to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes. That’s when I felt the pop. She started to cry. Usually, when she doesn’t get her way, she cries. But it’s the cry without tears, the one for effect. The drama queen takes center stage and wants her way, announcing, “I do it myself.” But that didn’t happen here. After the pop, she immediately cried with real tears and grabbed her arm. At first, I didn’t think anything of it and picked her up. But the fact that she didn’t calm down made me wonder. Was she really putting on the act or was there something else. I set her down and she continued to cry, clutching her arm. Soon, my heart sank. She was wearing a coat and sweatshirt so I couldn’t a good look at her arm. It didn’t feel like anything was wrong and I kept squeezing little bits up and down to see if I could notice anything. Then I thought I was making it worse.

I tried to soothe her and get her arm out of the coat and sweatshirt to make sure my fears were unfounded. There was no sign of anything wrong, yet she continued to cry and clutch at it. That’s when it became worse. I asked her what happened and she looked at me, with those big puffy, teary and reddened eyes and said, “Daddy hurt me.” I wanted to throw up right there. I’m standing in the middle of the store with my kid, clutching her arm, declaring that her father hurt her. Immediately I felt my ears burn and the daggers of a hundred eyes piercing my body. I was that guy. I was the guy that beat his kid. It didn’t matter that I didn’t do it. I was merely holding her hand and she dropped to the ground. Perception is reality and in this day and age, when it comes to kids I am guilty until proven culpable.

Think of this. Twenty years ago, if you were to get on a plane and sit next to a passenger wearing a head wrap, what would you think? Nothing. But sit next to that same person after 9/11 and what do you think? I don’t care if you are the most objective and unbiased person in the world. You will ultimately profile that person as a terrorist, if only for a second. This is what we have become as a society and sometimes we need to be that observant. Other times we jump to conclusions and assume the worst of a person. Remember Henry Louis Gates, Jr.? Exactly. Here I was, a grown man, standing in the store holding his crying kid who just declared that her Daddy hurt her. I felt guilty. I informed my wife and headed to the car as she finished up in the checkout. She was livid. The first thing she said was, “What did you do?” I felt ashamed, sickened, and responsible. I explained what happened as we drove to the ER.

We checked her in and those stares, albeit in my mind, persisted. We headed back to a cubicle and the doctor came in to look at her. My daughter, crying more than I had ever heard her cry was being poked and prodded. My looked at me and this same grown man was reduced to a quivering ball of goo. My eyes, beet red and swelled up, dripped profusely. The sight of my little girl being in pain is hard enough, but to think that I broke her arm made me lose it, completely. I was waiting for a police officer to come in and separate me from my family. I was thinking that I was going to be in so much trouble. I felt guilty.

I stayed towards the back of the cubicle, trying to compose myself. I realize that my daughter’s fears and pain were exacerbated by my appearance and I needed to pull myself together. My wife was in charge of her at this point. I could hear the various voices through the ones in my head. “All better now. It’s fixed.” If it was, why is she still crying and not using her arm. The staff asked me repeatedly what had happened and in every instance I was told the following things, “It’s common”, “It’s nothing serious” and “It’s easy to fix” Ok, then why is she still crying. Why am I?

Soon, the crying stopped and she was clutching a Popsicle, the purple juice flowing down her tear streaked chin and onto her shirt. She still didn’t move her arm and touching it set her off on another cry. The doctor brought stickers and asked her to grab them. She was holding the Popsicle with her good arm and wouldn’t relinquish it. “It’s like a big ice cube,” she said. When asked to use her other arm to take the stickers she said, “No, thank you.” Another member of the staff asked her how old she was, hoping she would use her affected arm to indicate the peace sign that also meant two. “I’m a big girl,” she said. My kid is way too smart for you people, I thought. My wife even stuck the stickers on her unaffected shoulder, thinking she would use the other hand to grab them. She loves stickers, but would not budge, instead using her same hand to reach up onto that shoulder to grab the sticker, letting her hurt one dangle. In a last ditch effort we put the stickers on the bed and expected her to use both hands to peel them off the sheet. Nope, after she did not get any help from us, she used her teeth to hold the sheet and peeled away.

The doctor said he heard the pop and said it should be OK. He said that she would forget that it was hurt and use it again, but after an hour of being touchy about it, he suggested an X-Ray. The X-Ray technician was a friendly face. She was the parents of two of my wife’s piano students and knew us enough to know that we would never do anything to hurt our kid. Finally, I could relax a little because she looked at me and knew how I felt and reassured me that I did nothing wrong. Coming from her, I believed it.

The pictures came back fine, but they wouldn’t release her until she used that arm, much to her resistance. The doctor took one last look, bending and turning the arm, causing my daughter to write in pain and tears. Then, almost instantly, she rolled over on the bed, pulling the hurt arm away from him and supported her weight on it. He looked at me, smiling in a sarcastic way, “It’s a miracle.” Usually, an attitude like that was uncalled for, but I knew he was referring to her being alright and only crying for effect. Once again, perception is reality. We were cleared to take her home.

The official word was a new one for my vocabulary. Radial head subluxation or nurse maid’s elbow. Basically, all those times your parents said they were going to pull your arm out of its socket for being bad was not just an urban legend. I still felt like such an asshat for letting it happen. By the time we got home, the little one was laughing and playing and using her arm like nothing happened. We got ready for bed and she sat on the edge of the toilet, teetering again, but letting me steady her. I told her I loved her and that I was sorry. She said, “It’s OK. Sometimes, I get a boo boo.” At last, my heart went back into my chest. I no longer felt like some monster. She wasn’t crying at me and saying I hurt her, anymore. I understand that I have a temper. I see it in my kid. On her good days, she is the best of what make up myself and my wife. On her bad days, she’s the worst of us. So, I see how I am when it comes to temper. My wife used to say I was the most patient person in the world. Parenthood wiped that out and it fluctuates. I need to learn to calm down and relax and this whole incident was proof. I am, what the name implies, Mongo. I have all the dexterity of an oven mitt and am clumsy to boot. I break shovels and rakes just but doing basic yard work. Ask my family, my brother had no good toys left because I broke them all.

So, to think that Mongo broke his kid’s arm, accidental or otherwise is a bit of a wakeup call. I need to relearn that bit of patience my wife used to think I had. Now, in this case, it was totally a fluke but my wife knows how I am. Even with all the medical professionals around telling us that this was a common thing and that I didn’t hurt her, she still had that look in her eye. “Mongo strikes again.” Of course, I didn’t help with my breakdown. But at least my kid is OK and she loves her Daddy again. After she said that , I told her, “That’s why you have to hold Mommy and Daddy’s hand and not let go. And even if you want to, you can’t just drop to the floor like that because you can get hurt.” She looked at me and said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She then finished brushing her teeth and we were off to bed. Then I went back into the bathroom and used a gallon jug to flush the toilet. Perhaps tomorrow, I can get that fixed, without another trip to the hospital.

I told her, “That’s why you have to hold Mommy and Daddy’s hand and not let go. And even if you want to, you can’t just drop to the floor like that because you can get hurt.” She looked at me and said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She then finished brushing her teeth and we were off to bed. Then I went back into the bathroom and used a gallon jug to flush the toilet. Perhaps tomorrow, I can get that fixed, without another trip to the hospital.

You Gotta Keep'em Decorated

2009-12-02T12:29:00.002-05:00

Houses are a pain in the ass. I love being a homeowner, though. Sometimes I feel like I rushed into the whole deal. However, looking back at how the economy took a nose dive and mortgage owners became almost like third class passengers and steerage on the Titanic I’m sort of glad I did jump on the bandwagon. After all, when Wall Street collapsed under the weight of its own nefarious practices, I was still sitting in my home with a monthly payment I could afford and my lender wasn’t sweating bullets.

But that is the process of buying and paying for a home. What I really find frustrating is keeping the darn thing from collapsing around me. My yard makes Jack and Jill exhibit Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and I have four trees that rise up like turrets, surrounding a keep, in the corners of my yard. Unfortunately, these turrets do little to protect the house except from rain. I can pretty much walk to my car in a downpour and get only a smattering of rain upon my brow. Otherwise they constantly threaten the safety of my home from falling branches, well placed acorns atop my head and the prospect of having gutter grown trees in the Spring and clogged up pathways in the Fall.

On the inside we have another story. Every January, I must make the arduous process of tearing down all the decorations from Christmas and stow them in the attic. Now, the attic is not exactly friendly to persons over four foot tall. The top of the staircase leads to an area where the hunchback of Notre Dame may feel slightly comfortable but that’s about as far as he can go. While there is ample square footage in which to store items, the ability to get them to and from their destination is a tricky process.

Being that Christmas commands more area, the space immediately to the left of the steps is designated as all Christmas as well as the space immediately in front of the steps, where I keep the Christmas trees. To the right of the steps is Halloween and the temporary spot for everyday items. In the ten and two positions, on either side of the steps, belongs the Easter decorations and the Stuff-we-don’t-use-but-weren’t-smart-enough-to-throw-out-before-it-got-blocked-in-by-huge-seasonal-boxes items which include old luggage from a relative and a disassembled futon.

If I am lucky, and I mean lucky in the sense that I am not boarding stray cats, hoping that they get adopted, or having a family picnic, I may be able to use my back porch for storage. It’s enclosed and, while not fully weatherproofed, stays dry, yet cold. This year we are using the porch for the empty bins that once contained newspaper wrapped contents which are now distributed around the house in an organized fashion.

I say organized because I made the decision to not have the repeated conversation of “Where did I put this last year?” with my wife. I took pictures of all the decorations once they were up and kept them handy. Still, sometimes her tastes change and the location of such items as wood carved scarecrows or wall hangings in the shape of sleds will shift to other parts of the house. This is why I usually maintain a laissez-faire attitude with her decorations and focus mainly on the things that are always a constant. Those things are the mantle decorations, the Christmas trees, and the little Victorian Village houses on top of the entertainment center. These areas are my domain and I rule them with an iron fist.

Now, every September we experience a bit of a crisis. We have to get decorated for Halloween. The problem is that Halloween is such a constricting holiday. I mean that in the sense of you can decorate in September but then you kind of usher in the end of Summer. You also have one day to truly celebrate your interior decorating achievement. It used to be that once Halloween was done, we would remove all of the Halloween type items such as ghosts, witches, Jack O’ Lanterns and other spooky stuff and leave up the harvest items like pumpkins, gourds and Indian corn. That ended after we found it difficult to keep the upstairs and downstairs items separated as well as having half empty bins with Halloween items and overstuffed bins with harvest and Fall items. Also, I got tired of lugging bins up and down the attic steps every other week. So, we opted to just leave Halloween up until we were ready to decorate for Christmas. Christmas is a holiday that stretches over the end of the year into January because we just want to enjoy the lights a little longer.

But Halloween has its frustrations as well. After all, it seems like we just decorated and now it’s time to tear it all down and put up another set. I will say that this year we are somewhat on top of our game. While Halloween was down probably a week before the holiday, Christmas will be done by the end of the first week of December…hopefully. I say that because we always find some reason to put off the finishing touches. Thankfully, Halloween is all down and packed away and my wife, who I love dearly, but sometimes can’t reconcile her cleaning methods, always does her Spring cleaning in November.

It actually makes sense, in a way. Her reasoning is that this is the time of year that everyone comes to visit and why not have the walls and floors really scrubbed well for that onslaught of visitors. I think it needs to happen in September with the usual dusting and floor mopping to keep it up until the end of the year. But once again, I am just the hired hand, the serf who just gets roped into late night cleanings or all day carpet steaming sessions. I will say that, for the money, renting a Nautavac from the local grocery store was an awesome idea and it did wonders for the carpets we do have.

Now, for those of you who ask, “How bad could it possibly be to decorate your house?” I realize it, too. I only live in a three bedroom ranch with a finished basement. Really, how much stuff could I have to decorate the house with for the holidays? It’s not about quantity it’s about insanity. We literally have seven Rubbermaid totes dedicated just to Halloween. That’s probably a half or a third of what’s in the attic for Christmas, not to mention two Christmas trees and the outside lights, wreaths on all the windows, the ten individually boxed houses that go on the entertainment center along with all the towels, pillows, dishes, and floor coverings that are Christmas themed. Believe me, it is a lot. That’s nothing of the three or four bags or boxes of stuff we haven’t used in a couple of years but haven’t thrown out.

So, yes, home ownership is a blessing and a curse. It has its joys and moments of desperation. In all, I like having the house looking nice, but I wish it was someone else’s job to make it that way. After all, you’re talking to the guy who got stranded on his roof while trying to clean the gutters last month.

Movies You Watch Over and Over

2009-11-30T16:00:00.001-05:00

Once again, EW has taken a crack at creating another list of sorts and once again a miss on the final verdict.

This time around it’s movies that you watch over and over. I don’t know about the rest of you, but by EW saying that you = me then they really don’t know me at all. Granted, I will give them credit for nailing about a third of the list of my personal repeat viewings, they sadly did not encompass a complete listing of the ones I would consider movies I would watch over and over again. Why they chose 17 instead of a round number like 15 or 20 is beyond me.

So, if you want their take, click on the link above. If you want my personal take, and this is not a best of against all others, see below.

First off the six that EW nailed.

The Princess Bride (1987)
Highly quotable and readily available on cable, this is a classic tale of true love. The Fire Swamp, the Pit of Despair, the battle of wits, and what I would give for a holocaust cloak. All these ideas conjures up a true fairy tale world full of giants and pirates and awesome sword play from the guy that brought kick ass light saber duels. Inconceivable, you say about watching it, repeatedly? I don’t think that word means what you think it means. Now watch the damn movie, I mean it. Anybody want a peanut?

Die Hard (1988)
Encore has been running this classic repeatedly over the last month and even though I have the first three on DVD, I must watch it every time I see it on television. I made the bold statement on my Facebook status, recently, that I believed it to be one of the top five all time best action movies, if not number two. In that list I think I put Raiders of the Lost Ark at number one. Regardless of status on any other list, this one agrees with EW that it is highly repeatable. Why? Once again, quotable, perfect premise, and easily accessible. It is timeless because it spawned a gross amount of copycats dubbed the “Die Hard on a blank” films ranging from boats, trains, planes, and even a hockey arena. John McClane is also the everyman who has no problem with speaking his mind during a fight. Go back and watch the fight scene with Alexander Gudunov (RIP) towards the end and you’ll see why McClane is perfect. He literally spouts various things he will do to the bad guy as he is fighting him which just speaks to what we all would be thinking if we were in the same situation. “You mother******, I'm gonna kill you! I'm gonna ******' cook you, and I'm gonna ******* eat you!” You can’t argue with that. I couldn't, even at 13, which is how I was when I saw this in the theater. R rated movies weren't policed as much then.

The Goonies (1985)
The map, the restaurant, the water slide, the ship. A classic Saturday afternoon, rainy day, treat of an adventure that pits kids against booby traps and felon family members. Spielberg and Donner brought together all the elements in a nonstop roller coaster ride of fun. Yes, the dialogue is a bit cheesy and the acting is rather bad from some of the kids but you cannot help but take on the voice of Sloth when you eat ice cream or profess your love for someone else. I will say that while it is readily available on cable, stay away from the commercial laden channels and hope to catch this on movie channels because networks like G4 butcher the hell out of it in terms of editing. If you have never seen the movie before you get the worst possible line of continuity of the plot and those of us with the film and dialogue permanently burned in our brain will find it horrible to try and watch, skipping over classic lines in our mind, while we see the film jump completely over scenes of relevance to the story.

Shawshank Redemption (1994)
It might be the story or it might be Morgan Freeman’s voice that makes me continually watch this when it comes on TNT usually once a week. It clocks in at over two hours on television and despite the length, it normally classifies as a repeat viewing as well as a film that should be on a separate list for movies-I-catch-at-the-same-spot-each-time-I-watch-it. The script is so good that you forget that this was written by Master of Horror, Stephen King. Extra Special scenes of note are the rooftop tarring and beer drinking scene, the reveal of how Andy Dufresne beat the warden, and Red getting paroled.

Back To the Future (1985)
Another gem of repeatable viewing, the original conjures up that era of capitalism and 80s nostalgia. We should all wish to magically wake up to a life of inherited wealth with a brand new truck and other material possessions without having to really work for them. And the move perfectly captures the 80s as well as the 50s which makes it a great placeholder for the Reagan years which include Pepsi Free, the Walkman used in Darth Vader from the planet Vulcan persuasion scene, the De Lorean and the Valtera skateboard used by Mary McFly. Admit it, you tried riding a board while hanging onto the bumper of a car. I did, although it was one of those polypropylene banana boards from the 70s. They were akin to roller skates versus in line skates or Rollerblades if you compared the banana board to the more popular models of skateboard. Christopher Lloyd offers up one of the greatest lines ever in “When this baby hits 88 mph, you’re going to see some serious shit,” which is second only to Biff Tannen’s “Hello, McFly?” which is a paraphrase of the actual dialogue spoken in this film.

Clue (1985)
Anyone who grew up with the board game or better yet video games in the 80s knows that adapting a game is really a bad idea. Adapting a board game is nearly impossible. Although, I am still waiting for that buddy flick, Chutes and Ladders, to be greenlit. That being said, Clue gets the job done, masterfully, in a way that could only be attributed to its cast. Martin Mull, Christopher Lloyd, Tim Curry, Michael McKean and Lesley Anne Warren might not be what you consider A list celebrities but in their own right they are comedy royalty. You have one third of Spinal Tap, Frank N. Furter, Father Jim/Doc Brown, and a staple of Mel Brooks movies in Madeline Khan. (RIP) “I hated her... so... much, It–it... the f–, it–flame... flames... flames on the side of my face, breathing, breath... heaving breaths... heaving...” throw in a pop culture cameos from Howard Hessman, Jeffrey Kramer, go-go goofball dominatrix, Jane Wiedlin and Kellye Nakahara-Wallet that only true Pop Culturists will know as Nurse Kellye and that’s all I’m saying because I’m tired of throwing you too many bones. The multiple endings, the adherence to the game’s plot and good god, Colleen Camp gives reason to multiply view the movie.

Now the rest of the list.

Overboard (1987)
One of my wife’s favorite films and a testament to a successful relationship in Hollywood that has outlasted Tom and Nicole, Burt and Lonnie, Meg and Dennis and is only five years short of beating out Tom and Rita. It’s another pure 80s flick as it follows the premise of a secret that keeps to people together as long as that secret doesn’t get out, much like films where a guy dresses up as a girl or vice versa. Here, Kurt Russell takes in amnesiac Goldie Hawn, who in reality is a rich bitch who hired carpenter Kurt to design a shoe closet for her yacht. After she refuses to pay, he plots revenge to make her feel what it means to have nothing when she falls overboard and washes up with no memory. Pretending to be her husband he brings her to the backwoods of the Pacific Northwest and the two end up in love. It’s a cheesy rom-com that actually makes me laugh and I have to watch it whenever it comes on television.

Secret of My Success (1987)
Another testament to the power of Gordon Gekko’s idea that greed is good. Michael J. Fox shows up again in a film about capitalism as he fakes his way into the corporate world as a mythical executive at his uncle’s company. He accidentally beds his aunt (by marriage), falls in love with his uncle’s mistress, and plots to take over the company before his uncle can let it be taken over by Herman Munster, himself, Fred Gwynne. The soundtrack features Who legend and 80s soundtrack God Roger Daltrey as well as David (St. Elmo’s Fire) Foster. And who can forget the use of the Jaws theme in the pool scene or Yello’s Oh Yeah during the late night room romp?

Dazed and Confused (1993)
Before they were BIGGER stars Ben Affleck, Matthew McConaughey, Adam Goldberg, Parker Posey, and Milla Jovovich all take a Slow Ride into the last day of school and into the night for a beer bash. It perfectly encapsulates the mid 70s with the music, the trends, and the fashion. Check ya later! Although toned down on television I find it hard to resist watching Ben Affleck get his comeuppance as O’Bannion the bastard.

Christmas Vacation (1989)
Out of all the “Vacation” movies, next to the original, this has to be the most successful if not funniest. I guess it’s cheating since it airs like clockwork every Christmas but how could I not enjoy repeated viewings of the true to life struggle of Clark W. Griswold to bring his family the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny Effing Kaye? Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where’s the Tylenol?

The Wedding Singer (1998)
Say what you want about Adam Sandler’s credibility as an actor, but don’t deny that The Wedding Singer was a great rom-com of totally tubular proportions. Once again, capturing the 80s it boasts all the great things to poke fun at including Michael Jackson’s Beat It outfit, Journey’s "Don’t Stop Believin’" done by string orchestra, no less, VCRs, Billy Idol, and Culture Club. Round up Sandler’s usual troop of sidekicks and you got a wonderful trip down repeated viewing lane.

Aliens (1986)
Another awesome flick that finds itself among the Encore movie rotation, Aliens takes the shock and awe from the first film about one huge effing bug and multiplies the bad guy quota and includes a bad girl in the queen. Who hasn’t muttered the line, “Get away from her you bitch!” Hell, even Mrs. Weasley has a Ripley moment in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows as Bellatrix LeStrange goes after her kids. James Cameron ratchets up the sci-fi and the action and gives us one of the coolest fight scenes between a power cargo loader and a queen alien ever filmed…bring the total number to one. This is another of the movies that belongs on the other list of I catch it at the same place every time.

TRON (1982)
Think of the low lit smoky arcades of the early 80s, the college campus pizzerias with their Donkey Kong and Pac Man games surrounded by geeks, the low tech Disney style special effects and you get one of the cult classics of all time. You also get a much anticipated sequel being released in 2010. Way ahead of its time for 1982 computer generated images, TRON used a blend of true CGI that only accounts for about 20 minutes of actual screen time. The backgrounds and landscapes were matte paintings and Moebius inspired artwork and the actors and other sets were filmed in black and white and then rotoscoped to have that neon technological feel. When the movie shows up on cable every once in awhile I feel compelled to veg out and wish for a light cycle for Christmas.

Back To School (1986)
If for no other reason to re-watch this film I say to you two words, William Zabka. Yes, John Lawrence from Karate Kid is the perfect 80s nemesis. So much so, he did it three times. Besides Back To School and Just One of the Guys, Zabka appears in the most respectable Rodney Dangerfield film of all as a rival college swimmer and boyfriend to be reckoned with, yet his bark becomes so much worse than his bite with BTS. However, Dangerfield makes up for it with his portrayal as a self made millionaire who wants to show his son that you need an education more than money in this world…although it helps when you can pay NASA to do your science homework and Kurt Vonnegut to write your English papers on who else but, Kurt Vonnegut. Throw in Oingo Boingo, Sam Kinison, M Emmet Walsh and the Triple Lindy and you have a film worthy of watching hundreds of times.

Forrest Gump (1994)
Tom Hanks took a lot of missteps in his career. The Man With One Red Shoe, The Money Pit and Bonfire of the Vanities are just a small taste of bad films he made…of which I still love two thirds of that selection. But after all those duds, Hanks emerged as a bonafide A-list actor with hits like Big, Philadelphia and of course Forrest Gump. You can argue that the history is a bigger draw than Hanks simple man with a simple mantra, “Life’s like a box of chocolates…” but he does pull off a performance that demands repeat viewings. Spanning close to four decades of U.S. History the film takes Gump from humble beginnings as a child strapped to metal braces all the way to his adult life as a man with an impressive business portfolio and equally impressive son, pre-The Sixth Sense, Haley Joel Osment. The soundtrack is a great slice of Americana and the ability to splice together present day performances with historical footage of events and people makes Forrest Gump a great movie that can be watched again and again.

Good Morning Vietnam (1987)
With only eight films, one of them being Popeye, and a cult television show under his belt, Robin Williams wasn’t known for his movie work as much as his comedy act and loud Hawaiian shirts. But the “based on a true story” turn as Adrian Cronauer, the Vietnam disc jockey who had trouble with authority, gave Williams much needed gravitas to balance the improvisational style that guided him into such films as Dead Poets Society, Mrs. Doubtfire and Good Will Hunting. The radio broadcasts, along with the soundtrack, make for a reason to watch over and over again as well as the attraction of looking into the underbelly of the Vietnam War as a hushed up source of misinformation to keep the public on the side of the Government’s interest in staying in the war.

Mrs. Doubtfire (1993)
Once again, you came for the funny and stayed for the family feel from Robin Williams in drag as Euphegenia Doubtfire, the uncanny nanny. Doubtfire is another, “Shh it’s a secret” movie, where the secret identity of Williams’ character sets up the plot and makes for some great comedy as he tries to juggle the ruse along with trying to reunite his broken family. I really should make that separate list because this is another “I always catch it at the same spot” film.

Big Trouble In Little China (1986)
It’s not the greatest movie in the world but it is a classic cult film from John Carpenter. Kurt Russell as Jack Burton adds a side dish of machismo to the main course of Lo Mein in this old world Chinese mythology tale of wizards and curses. The chopsocky fighting scenes are right up there with the 80s Kung Fu exploitation films and Russell’s wit and characterization as a carp out of water in the world of the world beneath the world of China Town gives Carpenter a one two punch on the repeated viewing scale. It’s all in the reflexes.

Halloween (1978)
Besides your annual dose of sugar induced coma from Halloween candy, get your thrills and chills on with the original bogeyman in Michael Myers. John Carpenter provides a simple premise. Jamie Lee Curtis provides the…lungs of a scream queen and Donald Pleasance provides the great misunderstood and not listened to siren of warning against a small town police force who refuse to believe that Michael Myers is on the prowl in Haddonfield. Even though you know who gets killed and how, it’s still a great film to re-watch with the lights off again and again. “You can’t kill the bogeyman.”

Pirates of the Carribean: Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
It’s a gamble that probably shouldn’t have worked. A Disney film based on an amusement ride about pirates. A Disney film featuring skeletal pirates. A Disney film featuring Johnny Depp as pirate. The obvious connection of those statements is, of course, Disney Film. The underlying one is the whole pirate business. POTC went into the familiar waters of piracy that were screwed up royally by Cutthroat Island and Hook. A Disney movie about pirates looks about as entertaining as a Gilbert and Sullivan opera. Something clicked like the flint of a pistol or lock of a treasure chest. The film tapped into that childhood fantasy of scallywags and treasure chests and life on the open seas so well that no one minded that it was based on a theme park ride. Not too many movies can be so lucky. [read Country Bears and Tower of Tower] Throw into the mix that the studio had trouble buying into Johnny Depp’s Keith Richards Rapscallion combo and the film had all the makings of a huge sinking ship. But it didn’t. It became a huge hit, re launched Depp’s stardom outside of a Tim Burton film and made piracy fun again as long as it wasn’t at the expense of the RIAA. The fact that the film boasts exotic locations, dark themes of undead pirates marauding the Caribbean coast, and a bit of violence not usually found in a Disney film carry the original into two blockbuster sequels, an online game, console games, a revamped amusement ride and third possible sequel means that the original is a force to be reviewed over and over.

Lethal Weapon (1987)
Mel Gibson has made a ton of movies But besides his Mad Max series, one other set of films made him into a household name in the states and that was the Lethal Weapon series. The buddy flick franchise was a huge success launching Gibson’s celebrity cred into the stratosphere. As Martin Riggs, Gibson had that same John McClane quality in that he was a cop that didn’t always play by the rules and was prone to being a little vocal during his fights. The original is still the best and is probably one of the last times you’ll see Gary Busey before he went completely nuts. Repeated viewings are a must for me as I can never get enough “I’m too old for this shit” gruff from Danny Glover and have always wanted to find a reason to say, “Hit em again, Endo!”

Real Genius (1985)
For me, college wasn’t exactly like it was portrayed on film. I didn’t have Val Kilmer for a roommate. There was no weird man living in my closet. I also did not work on some secret government laser project that was a perfect way to cook popcorn. I must have chosen the wrong major. Still, I can’t help but drop the remote every time this film comes on. Resident prick William Atherton brings his Leprechaun looks to Dr. Hathaway and Michelle Meyrink (We miss you on screen) provides just enough quirky weirdness to be kind of hot as Jordan. We are left to admire her modern day replacement in Melanie Lynskey. And even though Val Kilmer was the supposed heart throb moving onto Top Gun and Batman Forever, Gabe Jarret definitely grew out of his geeky phase and became a good looking adult. Though a sequel has been bandied about like a catnip laced toy for us to chew on, nothing takes the place of the original in terms of repeated viewings. It is a moral imperative to watch it over and over.

WarGames (1983)
Those of us who grew up in the stretching shadow of the Cold War and computer technology recognize WarGames as being both highly improbable and scarily plausible. To think how many times we may have came close to nuclear war is unthinkable and probably highly classified. Yet as archaic as the technology is, specifically the phone modem and Joshua’s digitized voice, the elements of tension are still there and Matthew Broderick brings that so-smart-he-could-be-dangerous-if-he-wasn’t-so-impishly-cute-and-innocent persona to screen so well, you want to go ahead and let him accidentally start World War III. Shall we play a game? Sure, repeatedly.

The Lost Boys (1987)
Forget Twilight, everyone wanted to be Kiefer Sutherland’s vampire in the 80s. It’s just so sad that they had to have a Corey based sequel that did a huge disservice to the original. One of the few movies Joel Schumacher didn’t royally bone when he made it, The Lost Boys provides that quintessential 80s blend of bad boys and….alas Coreys. A great soundtrack featuring Foreigner front man Lou Gramm’s “Lost in the Shadows”, INXS’ “Good Times”, and yet again, Roger Daltrey remaking Elton John’s “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me” only serves as great side cars to Gerard McMann’s “Cry Little Sister” with its children’s choir rendition of a pseudo set of commandments done A cappella as Kiefer gets impaled on a set of Grandpa’s antlers.

A Christmas Story (1983)
You cannot compile a list of the movies you could watch over and over and not mention the annual classic, A Christmas Story. Why? Because it gets played for 24 straight hours on Christmas Day. Over the past few years I’ve managed to get a complete viewing in by strategically watching parts through the 24 hour period. Usually, I will make the effort to sit and watch it in its entirety at least once. I do own the DVD but there is something about catching it on television on Christmas that makes it all the more special. Next to A Charlie Brown Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life (Which regrettably got left off of this list due to a 20 film limit), it is probably one the most repeatedly watched holiday movies abound. If you miss it, you deserve to shoot your eye out.

Honorable mention
Apart from not being able to list It’s a Wonderful Life as a favorite movie I love to watch over and over, I was remiss in including only a single John Hughes Film in this list. That’s because it would have comprised a majority of it had I given into temptation. Let’s just say that his films deserve multiple viewings, multiple quoting, and multiple reverence as a dedication to a man we lost in 2009, though he’d been absent from the scene for years.

Gratuitous Foodity

2009-11-28T14:07:00.003-05:00

I realize that foodity isn’t a word. I needed something to keep in line with my sardonic or wry sense of humor when it comes to titles. There is no naked food here, but we’re going to talk about having huge tips. I SAID TIPS! TIPS! Get your mind out of the gutter.

In one of my previous lives, non Shirley MacLaine styled, I was a bartender and server. I did this for three years before becoming an office drone. I find it fitting that I am writing this right after Thanksgiving as I always hated having to work the holiday buffet scene because it was a huge chaotic disaster and I would rather be home with my family on the holidays.

As a server I always appreciated tips and hoped that my service was worthy of your dollars. As a patron, I identify with the wait staff and usually tip more than most. It was odd, but I never understood the idea of tipping when I was younger and ultimately made a few food service faux pas in my tipping. I just didn’t understand the idea that the people serving me my meal were not paid minimum wage and relied on tips to make a living. It took being one to figure that out. If my daughter comes to me one day and wants to get a job, I’ll tell her to be a server because you will gain an appreciation for those who do the work.

Now, that’s not to say that my veteran status obscures my common sense when it comes to tipping properly. Just because you are a server does not guarantee you a great tip. You do have to actually do the job well. I mean I can understand mistakes and screw ups from the kitchen. How you handle that situation means all the difference in the change on the table or what’s written on that next to last line on the slip.

Case in point. When I was still dating my wife right out of college we use to hang with a group of people that made it a ritual to go out to eat on Tuesday nights. This was usually a discount wing night at a local joint in Latrobe, PA. Anyway, we would sit and enjoy each other’s company along with the good food. It was a sports bar so there was popcorn in a basket on the table. I am prone to munching or drinking what is in front of me with Pavlovian like conditioning and never noticed the contents of the basket before it hit my mouth. Popcorn is one of those foods that you tend to have a preconceived notion of how it will feel while being chewed. Instead of the crunch of the popped corn in my mouth, I felt the soft squishing of something else. Immediately knowing that something was wrong I retrieved the foreign object from my mouth and examined it. It looked whitish yellow like popcorn but it was solid instead of puffed. It appeared to be chewed gum.

It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to deduce that someone previous to our group was chewing gum and discarded it into the basket. The wait staff cleared the table and refilled the basket with fresh popcorn on top of the used paper with the now chewed gum sticking to it. Regardless of having gum on it, the fact that they kept the paper in it was disgusting enough to make my mouth curl up. As soon as the server came back, I showed her the offending addition to our popcorn and explained how I found it. “What would you like me to do about it?” I’m sorry but is that even a question? I don’t think a question is even required here. You simply go to the manager, explain it to them and ask to comp the meal. I was livid. All I did say was, “I want you to not do it again. How about that?” We don’t go there anymore and if by some chance we do, I won’t eat the popcorn.

Needless to say, the incident caused me to reevaluate my tip for this person and besides having competent service, she only received 10% from me. And that’s how it goes, from the moment I sit down you are already at 20% for a gratuity. How you end up is totally your call. We usually keep the wait staff busy and sometimes, I admit that, we may ask for a lot but I take care of the ones who take care of us. It comes from being in the trenches and it’s like a fraternity of servers. It’s kind of like that unwritten rule of the road where you see bikers give the low-air-five to other, passing bikers. They call it the biker wave, I think. They don’t even have to know each other. It is just sort of expected. The same comes with tipping another server.

One thing I do not like is the automatically added gratuity. I understand that if you have larger parties you are not only inconveniencing other patrons but stretching your staff in order to provide good service to a larger number of people that might have it spread out, if they were in separate groups. The fact that this is done is sometimes an excuse to let the staff phone in their performance, confident that they will still get a decent tip. In fact there was a story out of my own state where a couple of patrons were arrested and charged with theft for not paying their tip. The stance of the establishment: gratuity was added automatically to checks for parties of six or more. The stance of the penalized patrons: Why should we pay an automatic tip when we had to get our own napkins and cutlery, wait for over an hour for salad and wings and asked the bar to refill sodas. The Consumerist was all over this and eventually the police dropped the charges. Still one must wonder, if it’s mandatory, it’s not really a tip, then is it? It’s a service charge.

This whole story was ridiculous. The establishment wasted tax payer money and police resources over $16.00 in “gratuity” for a table that had to do most of the work themselves. If anything, the students should have complained to the manager and asked to not pay the tip, citing poor service. But the owner used poor judgment in calling the cops. Some things you just accept and move on.

I was in the same situation a couple years back. One Mother's Day we took my M-I-L to a restaurant for dinner. It was a nice Italian restaurant and quite frankly, I'll never go back. The service wasn't all that spectacular and being a holiday buffet, I usually do not tip above and beyond the usual clearing of dishes and a drink refill. We actually didn't see our server all that much and plates did begin to pile up at the table. Anyway, when we got the bill, my wife and I picked it up as a treat for her Mom. I added a customary 18% on for somewhat competent service, not my full 20%.

When we got home, I was unloading my pockets and saw the slip which had a mandatory gratuity of 18% added on for the holiday buffet. Once again, if it's mandatory, it's not really a tip, then is it? I called to ask them to refund my additional 18% due to my mistake stating the issues we had. While I admit that it was my own fault for not paying attention to the slip, I think that it should have been refunded. The manager pretty much told me they wouldn't. I really didn't want to go the route of a charge back from my bank so I just accepted it and moved on. But the restaurant loses out because we'll never go back. What establishments need to realize is that sites like The Consumerist are pretty good at getting the word out about stuff worse than this and have been able to affect businesses. First off, though, you should take your complaints to the management. If you feel that is not satisfying your complaint then by all means do what it takes. Sometimes, the establishment or idiot employees make it easy by posting their despicable practices on YouTube, like what happened at a Dominoes Pizza location in North Carolina.

So, next time you are out think about what it takes to be a server and think about what that means to you in terms of service. Tip accordingly and fair.

H1-N-Wand: Wave Bye Bye to Swine Flu

2009-11-23T14:10:00.004-05:00

Remember when I said that we didn’t have any really useful inventions this century. I was wrong. Here we have, right in time for Christmas and the rest of the flu season, The H1N1 Destroying UV Wand. For $70 + S&H, Hammacher and Schlemmer will send you this space age wonder that will ensure the destruction of 99.98% of the H1N1 virus after five seconds of exposure at ¾” above any surface. ANY SURFACE! That means that tawdry affair you had with the waitress last night in the bathroom of your favorite dive will not yield any harmful side effects….at least from Swine Flu. Any itching or burning sensation you may feel is not from the usage of this product or from Swine Flu. Chances are, it’s another species of living creature. Just think of it. “Hey Rover? Come here boy! You look a little infected.”

Unlike liquid disinfectants that can destroy electronic equipment, the H1-N-Wand, as I now call it, can destroy harmful evil Satanic microorganisms on keyboards and other gadgets that you could not live without, like your iPhone, PSP, and Swatch. Also capable of killing MRSA, mold, and dust mites, the UV-C light penetrates viral and bacterial membranes and destroys their DNA, rendering the microorganisms incapable of reproduction and survival. Killing an entire species has never been so fun. Let the kids try. But watch it around grandma. We want her home for the holidays.

Now, if you want to use it on your ceiling, you are out of luck. The light automatically shuts off if the light is turned upward. This prevents you from pointing it towards your eyes and burning your retinas. It also keeps you from accidentally signaling advanced alien races to our presence in the galaxy, as the light is so powerful, it can be seen a galaxy away. Besides, everyone knows that germs can’t walk on the ceiling so there’s no need to worry.

We’re so sure you can sanitize everything in your home with the H1-N-Wand that we made sure the battery lasts a full 90 minutes after an eight hour charge. After a full day at work, you can spend an hour and a half taking out bacteria and still have time to cook dinner. But, you won’t even notice the time flying by as you kill those blood thirsty, liberal agenda, baby killing bacteria, bent on world domination. This technology is so advanced you no longer have to wash your hands. You can simply wave the wand over your hands. Just think of that healthy glow you’ll see. People will think you were cosmetically irradiated. We’ll never tell.

But wait, there's more. Just so you don’t feel like we forgot anything, make sure you order two H1 N Wands so that you can use one to clean the other after you use it. Call now and place your rush order…..or go buy some bleach. But hey, what’s $3.00 at any store, within five minutes from your home, when you can annihilate all the germs in the world, reducing the chance you’ll ever need that immune system you’ve worked your whole life to build up? You don’t need it. You have the wand.

I know what I want for Christmas. A little common sense in the world.

New Moon Over My Dead Body

2009-11-20T18:49:00.003-05:00

Shhh. Don’t tell my wife the new Twilight movie is out. Actually, she already knows and has known for months. Much to my dismay.

I’m not going to get into every little issue I have with the whole saga. Simply put, I’m not a fan but can appreciate its existence in the genre of sappy teen romance novels. Although, with New Moon opening up November 20th I have only this to say. Michael Corvin makes Jacob Black look like Teen Wolf….Too. That’s right. I pulled out a Jason Bateman reference for that one. Hell, I give Jon Gries more props as a werewolf. Go figure that one out. I’ll give you a hint. Jacob’s nards haven’t dropped enough yet to compare with Jon Gries’ characterization. Oh, I know Entertainment Weekly is just chomping at the slipper to churn out a list of best Werewolves on screen. It will most likely feature an over ranked Taylor Lautner near the top of the list. In fact I almost cringe at the obligatory connections between Lautner’s portrayal and accompanying clips and or tributes with Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London.” The folks at EW having been failing miserably at capturing a good list of anything lately. In my ranking you have, in no particular order, Lon Chaney, Jr., Seth Green, Jon Gries, MJF, Bill Stone, Jack Nicholson, Scott Speedman, David Naughton, and even Everett McGill from Silver Bullet above Jacob Black. He might make the list but I c

Ok, all of this goofy emo sparkly vampire crap aside, let’s get right to the point of this post. Going to see New Moon. Yeah, I admit, I will probably have to go watch it in the theater. My wife, who hates to go to the movies, will most likely insist on it. However, I will give her props, she won’t go see it the first few weeks which gives me time to cowboy up before having to firmly remove my manhood and stow it in her purse. She’s got Vampire Bill from the Sookie Stackhouse novels to keep her going for awhile.

You know, not to belabor a point but it is so ironic that my wife used to criticize me for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It was while we were first dating circa Season Four. She caught me watching it one night and went into this whole geek/nerd/dork diatribe. Yeah….then she started watching it and was fawning all over Spike. Still, she has moved beyond William the Bloody for Edward the Shimmering and now Jacob the Furry.

Back to the point. Apart from not really caring for the subject matter, I treat the cinema like a church. When I go, I want dead center seating, up out of the way of people and absolute quiet. I want to be able to detach my consciousness from everyday life and just be in the moment. There is nothing more infuriating then the following. If this is you, resign yourself from the human race and go live with the animals.

You sit behind me and use my chair as a personal knee and or foot rest. Leave me the hell alone and stop breathing while you are at it.
You see a darkened theater as an excuse to text someone. Put the phone away. I don’t that damn glow from your screen interfering with my vegetative state.
You leave your ringer on and in turn answer the phone when it does ring. You have ample warnings and at least a half hour of previews, commercials, PSA clips and theater produced dos and don’ts to turn it off. If you don’t want to turn it off, fine, put it on vibrate if you think you are so important. And don’t answer it and carry on a conversation. If you accidentally leave your ringer or phone on, immediately do whatever it is that makes your call go to voice mail and then rectify the problem.
You’re the guy who thinks he’s going to be funny and shout something at the screen. This isn’t Seinfeld, this isn’t MST3k, this is a theater and should be treated as such.
Kids, I know it’s hard but STFU. I admit I’ve been just as bad but I’m old and cranky now and I’ve seen the error of my ways. Sit down, shut up, and pull up your damn pants.
Pick up your damn garbage. I nearly stepped out of my Nike’s.
This one is for the ushers and attendants. Don’t be walking in during the film to go check on something. Nothing used to burn me up more than to have some red vested slack come be bopping in and cross IN FRONT OF THE SCREEN to go check on a thermostat or something. It’ll keep. Unless the bloody theater is on fire, nothing bad is going to happen.
You, down in front. Lose the sombrero, asshole.
Don’t whisper something about the film like trivia or potential plot points. I only did this once for bragging rights. I whispered to a friend of mine once, “You watch. Bruce Willis is actually dead.” Ruined the whole damn thing for her.
You sit next to me in a theater of about three people. Go find your own space. Unless it gets crowded I maintain the empty seat between rule. Which is why if I have to sit at the end of the aisle, I always take the first seat inward. That gives me the option to move to the aisle when everything is settled.
As a bonus, I used to love getting popcorn and drinks and candy when I would go to the movies. The prices are now way too expensive. However, if you got the money to buy the food, at least have the manners to not crumple bags and crunch and munch on chips or candy during quiet moments. Wait for an explosion. And don’t do that stupid thing with the straw when it rubs on the lid making that screeching noise.

Like I said, my wife is no big fan of movie theaters and the prospect of having to sit up close and personal with a bunch of teeny boppers, exhibiting more than three of the above bad habits, is about as fun as a root canal done by a guy with a lazy eye and a degree from a Central American Dental Academy. She would probably be happy waiting for it to come to OnDemand or DVD.

Going to see the new Twilight movie ought to be less fun for me. I really disliked the first one. And I’m not even talking about the plot as much as I am talking about how bad the film was overall. The conceptualization of how the action takes place…like the sped up running and sparkle motion really let me down in the 21st century realm of movie making. New film, new director, better execution, maybe. Granted that still doesn’t make up for the piss poor vampire world series taking place. WTF (Mandatory Internet Slang quota reached twice, now) was that all about? My wife is convinced that if I read the books I’ll appreciate the subject matter more. I doubt that. She’s already read me passages from the last book and I really don’t feel any urge to go and read the first ones.

Mengagement Rings

2009-11-19T12:08:00.005-05:00

The 21st century, ahhhh, you can just smell the progress. We have devices as big as a stamp to play hundreds of our favorite songs but can’t get rid of the crap that is on the radio. We have cars that run on both gasoline and electrical power yet they don’t fly yet. A lot of inventions over the last ten years and a lot of conventions tested like legal marriage between members of the opposite sex or what Carrie Prejean loves to call “opposite marriage.” It just goes to show as smart as we’ve become, we’ve still allowed stupid people to open their mouth on television….but then again if stupid people weren’t allowed to talk, I wouldn’t have a blog. I mean that from a standpoint of authorship…not subject matter.

But I am way off on my point, here. It seems that jewelers are trying to push the idea of an engagement ring for men or as I call it the Mengagement Ring. In essence, instead of just forking over thousands of dollars for a solitaire diamond for your intended bride to be you can also buy yourself one. I’m sure somewhere in all this, there is a level playing field where the fiancée is paying for this mengagement ring but still consider that it is most likely a plain band and not weighted down with a huge rock. Those are called class rings after all.

Wow, if this isn’t a great way to bastardize marriage then I call your attention to the pre-engagement ring. Yes, we have a ring called a promise ring that signifies your intent to be in a monogamous relationship with the intent to not marry but get engaged at a later date. Well, why not just go the extra step and have a promise-to-ring? The premise is simple. You go out to a bar and find a lovely lady and after a few drinks you go back to her place and spend the night. Then, at 6:50 AM you scurry to put your pants on and leave without waking her up, only leaving a little ring on her pillow that says, “I promise to call you.”

It’s not that I dislike the practice of committing yourself to someone, but do we really need a piece of metal to enforce it? After all, isn’t marriage an idea, a vow. It isn’t a physical object that can be distilled into a monetary amount such as two month’s salary. If it is, then don’t marry someone who is unemployed. I, myself, did not follow the standard convention in picking out a ring and my intended bride was happy with that. I wanted to at least traditional and buy her a ring and she picked it out, price tag and all. She was practical. She would rather me spend my two month’s salary more responsibly and would rather get something that she wasn’t afraid to wear.

Yet behind that she didn’t need a ring to ensure my commitment to our relationship. The ring is a thing. Our love was not represented by that. So, to say, nowadays, that you can get his loyalty by slapping a ring on that finger is just as ridiculous as getting one that signifies a commitment to eventually ask you to marry him as well. This is simply the jewelry industry looking at the white space and finding a way to take more money out of your pocket.

Not to mention the poor bastard that has to wear it like a dog collar. Oh to be a fly on the wall when the fiancé who sports a mengagement ring walks into his favorite bar and gets flack from his friends. “So, when’s the dress fitting? You get the ring, she gets the balls, huh?” Let’s face it. As far as outdated traditions go, in today’s world, the act of giving a man a ring to signify an engagement is just as bad as not giving a woman one. And how do we ask a man to marry him. Do you take him to the Olive Garden and put the ring into his salad, hoping he won’t choke on it? Let me tell you something. A run of the mill guy will probably chew on it first. He may even swallow it before realizing what it is. Put it in his beer? It’s gone. We aren’t that perceptive. Have the Jumbotron announce it during the football game he shelled out hundreds of dollars to go see? You’ll probably get a good shot of him trying to hail the nachos guy or beating up the poor bastard who bravely sat in the home section wearing the visitors’ jersey.

If you’re doing this out of paranoia that he might cheat on you and that this mengagement ring is an ironclad symbol of his commitment, you probably would have done better to spend the money on hiring a private detective to find out if he’s been cheating on you. Chances are if you have mounting evidence that your fiancé is cheating on you, a ring isn’t going to stop it. Hell, sometimes a wedding ring doesn’t stop it. A swift kick to curb will at least end it for you.

And what is the protocol should the engagement end? If you bought it does that mean we have to give it back? I can see the Customer Disservice Representatives at Cash4Gold trying to appraise a mengagement ring and scamming the seller for a good 20% of its real value.

Don’t fall for this cheap ploy by jewelers and save the money for something better. I have a few ideas.

LCD HD Television
Tickets for a Major League Sporting Event
Pay Per View UFC or other MMA Ticket and Beer and Wings for him and his buddies (You could call it a Man Shower but that would be nasty)
A year of NFL Network or other Sporting Channel
Pick up a couple of truck payments
PS3, Wii, Xbox
Pay for a professional lawn service to take care of the yard once or twice
New grill
New Power Tool ( Hey you want a diamond ring, we want a diamond blade)
Take him out for a nice dinner, a movie, and whatever else you can think of to celebrate your engagement.

So, get in the pit and try to love someone. Just don't spend stupid money.

TWC Becomes MTV

2009-11-17T12:26:00.003-05:00

On August 1st, 1981 television and music was changed forever. MTV debuted with The Buggles, Video Killed the Radio Star. That’s probably one of the most well known answers to a trivia question if not the most overly asked. You might as well say, “Who’s buried in Grant’s Tomb?” Since the dawn of music television network, viewers and musicians made the declaration “I Want My MTV!” Soon, they got their wish and soon after, that wish was destroyed.

Not wanting to sit on their laurels and wait for someone to move the cheese, MTV branched out into more original programming by adding shows to their schedule. One of which was a game show for the collegiate crowd called Remote Control, which as I write this I am just finding out that the host, Ken Ober has died at age 52. Remote Control was a pop culture trivia game show with a quirky sense of humor that featured a few now familiar faces in their pre-celebrity-due-paying years. Adam Sandler showed off his goofy pre SNL characters like The Stud Boy. Colin Quinn, also pre SNL was the sidekick and announcer and Kari Wurher was the Vanna White in Ken’s Mom’s basement.

Also, who could forget Downtown Julie Brown, wubba wubba, wubba, as the host of Club MTV? The dance show was styled after American Bandstand set to the hottest music of the moment. Often, a pubescent male viewer would hope for just the right shot from the sky cam or floor cam to show a glint of forbidden skin on the female dancers or at least I did, at that age.

And long before Jeff Probst held tribal councils, roommates were kicking each other out of the house on one of the first successful reality shows, The Real World. Forget Richard Hatch and Jeri Manthey, who could forget Puck and Eric Nies?

But somewhere around the new millennium, MTV started to develop more and more reality and other crap shows and played less and less music videos and great shows like 120 Minutes and Headbanger's Ball. By the year 2000 there was up to eight hours of music videos being played on the network whereas by 2008, an average of three hours of music videos were being shown, yet each year they showcased the best of the best with the Video Music Awards. You have to wonder if, somewhere, Adam Curry is chomping on his gums, muttering "Damn Kids" while adjusting his long blonde 80's hair toupee to keep the liver spots covered on his forehead?

The reason I bring all of this up is that MTV was a niche network, much like its sister channel VH1. However, they stopped being what they originally were and became something else. The trend isn’t lost on other networks. For instance, The Weather Channel (guess what they show) has always been a niche network.

I remember the early days where you really couldn’t do much more than give the forecast and the current conditions. And to that end, how much can the weather really change in the course of an hour? But still, over time, TWC began to expand its horizons and offer other programming like Storm Stories and Weather Center. But regardless of what the evening block held for prime time, you could always count on Local on the 8's. Sometimes, intentions aside, TWC can be the butt of jokes, as a sort of NPR of television almost taking itself too seriously.

I used to make such jokes at the expense of my wife who loved watching The Weather Channel. I would ask how she could be so addicted to a channel that pretty much repeats itself every ten minutes? Then I began watching like a weather zombie. Must see extended forecast. Every eight minutes we would be tuned in waiting for the trippy music as if we were watching a Joy of Painting marathon with the soporific tones of light jazz playing in the background. Although, I did get a kick out of hearing "Classical Gas" accompanying the Doppler Radar. When we would go on vacation you could tell how our week was going to go based on the availability and ease of locating The Weather Channel on the hotel room television. Sometimes we’d spend more time watching the weather on television instead of enjoying it up close and personal.

It would get so bad that we would become such idiots as to say, “What’s up with Jim Cantore’s hair? Is he going bald or just thinking that it’s a good look, regardless?” or “Mish Michaels is pretty sexy but that outfit isn’t good for her.” My personal favorite was Paul Kocin. My wife would always know when Winter was in full force because the Extreme Weather correspondent, Paul, was showing up in the rotation or meteorologists.

But like MTV, The Weather Channel kind of jumped the shark and started playing movies with a weather themed plot. The first one was The Perfect Storm. Now, you could not be more appropriate than kicking off your new direction with this film that is based in meteorological reality. However, one has to wonder how they are going to keep finding good movies to show which will keep in line with the topic of weather. Already announced are Twister (tornadoes), understandable, and March of the Penguins (snow), um OK. Then it kind of breaks down into a ridiculous mess with Deep Blue Sea and Misery. Misery has little to do with Snow as say maybe Avalanche does and Deep Blue Sea is not so much about tropical storms as it is psychopathic killer sharks eating Samuel Jackson and sparing L.L. Cool J. While I can see perhaps lining up Hard Rain for floods and even The River would be a good choice, I just hope they don’t decide to choose The Day After Tomorrow for a sense of reality surrounding global climate change. Of course, they probably will, though. In that case you might as well get ready for The Core to be shown as well.

To this end, I can see other niche networks deciding to play more movies that are themed in their offering. Perhaps HGTV will show The Money Pit or Mouse Hunt. G4 could actually get back to showing video game related content and put the Fred Savage classic, The Wizard on or even the technology reality based Hackers, because everyone knows that the hardest thing to hack is a Gibson. How about The Food Network showing Simply Irresistible or at least Ratatouille? That would be good. In a couple of years they could show Julie and Julia, although I would refrain from getting the rights to Titus based on Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, although one should really know what temperature you need to have your oven on in order to properly cook your enemies into a pie.

All kidding aside, I miss the good old days when television was a landscape of 57 channels and nothin’ on instead of today’s format of 900 channels and all the same thing is on. I yearn to escape the doldrums of regular broadcast television’s lame ass programming for a little bit of jazz and current conditions and possibly even a music video once in awhile, but alas, I find myself mired in Another Shot At Hepatitis C With Skanky Ho or Washed Up Music Artist or watching Batman and Robin because the character of Mr. Freeze represents the real possibility of global cooling. Where’s the remote? Let's see if the test pattern is still around.

Worst Facebook Friend Ever

2009-11-11T16:00:00.000-05:00

This is an open apology to all my friends on Facebook. I admit that our friendship has not always been one of reciprocation. For the most part I like being a part of the fb community and try to hold up my end of the bargain but alas I am not. I can try to blame it all on my work. Not the work I do but the place where I do it. We aren’t allowed cool things like fb or YouTube and just the mere mention of a lottery number or fantasy football site sends the huge Websense page flashing across our screen like we are a huge scumbag that is looking at porn. We’re not, Big Brother. But to say that I don’t have time at home to catch up is also a lie because as my wife often puts it, I am married to my laptop and my wife and daughter are just unused icons on the desktop of my life. I know that’s not true and for the life of me I can’t justify that I am actually doing work, that is part of a job, while I am propped up in my recliner with butt perfectly aligned with the worn indentation of said chair. But let’s get to the mea culpas.You send me plants for my L’il Green Patch and I eventually get around to accepting them and for that I am sorry as much to you as the rainforest. You offer me wire taps and punching bags to further my ascension to Mafia King and what do I do? Send you another stupid nine of diamonds. You offer me tons of cool gifts for my pad and they eventually get plopped on a counter somewhere but all I can do is nail you with a water balloon and that happens ever so rarely, anymore. I thank you for the duck, sheep, goat, and even that elephant that is on my farm but I apologize for not chasing the foxes away and for sending you yet another red gazing ball which makes six you’ve received from me this week. You poke and poke and poke me over and over and I don’t even acknowledge that sheep you threw. I like it, it’s soft, and this one isn’t lost like the one you asked me for help with on your farm.

You’ve probably been wondering why I haven’t joined your causes and groups and all I can say is that I still have 36 gifts to accept from Willy’s Sweet Shop. I really am a supporter of sleeping, the dislike button, and things that begin with the letter Zed but I just haven’t been able to think a fifth favorite cereal and candy bar that I like for my top five list. I promise I’ll get to them right after I try and figure out which cartoon character is which in this quiz I forgot to take.

I am really sorry that you all got hit with a bug last year after one of my other friends get hit with an email virus which sent me a message like something to me in the vein of “You always did look good naked.” I accidentally opened it because knowing them, this would have been funny. It wasn’t and everyone on my friends list got nailed and my computer was screwed up most of December. I swear it won’t happen again.

And I also apologize for bombarding you with these stupid blog posts, my shirt designs, and links from consumerist and YouTube. You are actually sending me quality gifts for my restaurant, mafia, island, castle, mob, amusement park, flair board, green patch, aquarium, YoVille pad, sweet shop, Farkle game and various farms. I guess I am a horrible friend. Good thing you have lots of them to balance me out. Thanks for being there. Here’s to good friends. If I could send you all a gift or poke or whatever I would but fb seems to only let me choose so many and I always forget who I missed the first time around. How about I promise to like everything you say on your status update? Deal? Ok. Good. I’m glad we had this chat. I only wish we could have done it on fb but I always seem to be offline.

Head In the Gutter

2009-11-09T12:00:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting on my roof. I look out at the world around me, searching for something, some sign of hope. I am in dire need of help and so far I see none in sight. This is bad.

It all started not too long ago. I was doing just fine. I was outside, enjoying the warm weather on this sunny November weekend. But something happened. A wind of change blew in and threw my future into a tailspin.

Now, I’m moving towards the edge of my roof and looking over at the ground, contemplating my options. I could do it. I could just take a step and this would all be over. But something in me hesitates. Maybe it’s some common sense kicking into gear. Perhaps I should try to get some help before I resort to this step.

Soon, I hear silence. The once deafening noise in my head has been replaced with tranquil thoughts. I know my course of action. I walk back to the top to the highest point of my roof. I fill my lungs with air and cry out. As my words cut through the air, a voice calls back. It is my wife. She comes around to the front of the house and looks up at me. She helps me. She offers an unconditional hand to a husband in need. She steadies me. She encourages me that it will be ok. I reach the ground and I know everything is going to be ok. I look at her and smile. I thank her for her help and she says, “Is it finished?”

“Yes!” I exclaim. “The gutters are clean. I guess that sudden gust of wind must have knocked the ladder over. If you hadn’t stopped running the lawn mower you probably wouldn’t have been able to hear me call.” She laughs and thinks about how it would have been funny to see me panic at being stuck on the roof. I tell her I wouldn’t have been there long. “I was actually thinking about trying to shimmy down by the porch but would have probably broke my leg.” She looks at me in puzzlement. “You’re a dumb ass. The last thing I need is to haul you to the hospital because you fell off the roof. Now, get back to work on the rest of the yard.”

“Yes, dear.”

What, did you think I was talking about something else? Nope, I was just on the roof with my head in the gutter.

Remember Remember the 6th of November

2009-11-06T15:16:00.005-05:00

I haven't lost my coconuts. I meant that number 6 in the title. Yesterday was, duh, November 5th, Guy Fawkes Day or as you kids today call him, that guy from V from Vendetta. Anyway, I had my Facebook status set to the rhyme of Guy Fawkes as I always like to be either A: Obscure in my pop culture referencing nature or B: Relative to the actual events of the time I post it. This being November 5th, I was sort of both, I guess.

But now, it's November 6th or as I call it, my anniversary. Five years ago, today, I wore down my then fiancee enough to say "I do." Since then, she's been saying "I DOH!" So, for today's status update I did a little rhyme all my own.

Remember, Remember, the 6th of November
of wedding bells and tying of knot.
Here's to 5 kiddo. You'd surely be a widow,
if ever, our anniversary, I forgot.

Please, please no applause needed. Kidding.

So, people have asked me what I plan on doing for our anniversary. Well, I've never been one to keep up with traditions like this. We made a pact early on in our marriage to not go crazy for days like this or Valentine's Day. Neither one of us have the energy for it. I think we've only done two or three things for either of those days in our entire tenure as a couple.

The first was Valentine's Day of 1999. My wife was still a student at Seton Hill University and I was just some old college grad that hung around with these kids. However, they were willing to play ball with me in one endeavor. I asked one of the group that we used to run with to help me in a plot to surprise my girl. She would be busy until later in the evening so I had plenty of time to gather up my stuff and spring my plan into action.

I stowed away in one of the parlor's outside of Cecilian Hall and set up a table and chairs, complete with table cloth, candles, flatware, silverware, and my trusty boom box. Then I went and placed a to go order with a local restaurant that she and I liked. I went and picked up the food and brought it back, all with the blessing of security, thanks to one of our group of friends. My wife came into the parlor and was taken back. She was always a bit shy around me even after months of dating. She could never look me in the eye. Now, I have that problem, usually because I'm trouble. Still we had a nice romantic dinner for two in a beautifully designed space, complete with candlelight and mood music.

Skip ahead a few years...more like five...to our first Valentine's Day in our home. My wife sprung the surprise on me by doing up our family room with candles and music, complete with takeout Chinese food for dinner. Trust me, this is just fine by me. I thought it was an awesome form of reciprocation.

As for our anniversary we really don't do that much. The most we ever did was go out to Ruth's Chris Steakhouse and then spent the night at the Holiday Inn next Shadyside UPMC Hospital which was real nice. That time we had the help of my Mother-in-Law and her partner in crime at work to arrange for the reservation through our travel department at work. It's nice to have friends in high places. It was a pretty spectacular room.

But being a milestone like number five, we thought we would indulge a little bit. However, having a two year old makes it a little hard to get away for a night. We can only rely on babysitters so much and we have been burning the candle at both ends with help since we are trying to save up some money for the holidays by taking on extra work.

Still, I figure we can at least go out for an evening and make it home for bath time. That's why we plan on recreating our honeymoon for our fifth anniversary. My wife is going to be deathly ill with a cold and I'm going to attempt to smuggle duty free whiskey across the Canadian border into the U.S. We're already half way there. My wife's had strep throat and been under the weather for a few weeks now.

To give a small explanation of what I'm talking about, let's step in the way back machine and travel to 2004. Monday, November 8th to be exact. After out wedding we loaded up the best damn car on the planet, my 1997 Chevy Cavalier, and drove from Pittsburgh to Niagara Falls. I booked us a room at the Embassy Suites overlooking the falls. They must have been hard up for guests because they were nice enough to upgrade us to the Jr. something suite complete with free valet parking. We also got free buffet breakfast at the KEG restaurant and complimentary manager's reception cocktails in the afternoon. It was rather posh for a couple of goofs like us who were used to the Gazebo Inn in Myrtle Beach for $99.00 a night.

We had a two room suite with living room and nice huge bathroom with a door that opened above the jacuzzi tub so that you could look out the big ass window and see the falls. Not to mention I loved the shower in that place. It was the kinds with it's own room and you just walked into it and it had jets in the walls. Besides the electric fireplace in the room we had a nice big television and one of the coolest channels, the falls' view channel.

Well, after our first night there, my wife got extremely sick and congested and spent most of our stay in the other room among a pile of tissues. I was already to go out and gamble our wedding reception haul away at the casinos but we ended up spending most of our time in our hotel asking around for a pharmacy in the area. In all, we had a pretty decent time and I ended up winning about $50 on Spanish 21.

On our way home we came all the way through to Buffalo and forgot to stop and exchange our money. So, I had to drive back into Canada and stop at the Duty Free store right over the border. Picked up a few items of interest and then headed home.

This weekend, liquor aside, I think we'll head down to the new Casino in Pittsburgh and have a nice dinner but my wife will probably be chasing hers with some Robitussin. Should be a fun time in the steel town tonight.