Thursday, August 25, 2005

Comically Bad

This is pathetic enough that it shouldn't be shared, but funny enough that it should be. So I'll fill you in, just say that it happened to a friend of mine.

So my friend tells me how his Thursday night went:

"Well, I had become slightly resentful that my wife has gotten into the habit of going out with her friends a night or two a week while I stay home with the kids, so I decided tonight I was going to be the one to take off. That's when it began downhill. I called up the only two guys that I could considering going out and doing anything with, and was shot down. 'That's okay,' I thought. 'I'll just go out on my own and see what I can do. I'll have fun and come home and count up the number of times I was hit on, how great it was, and blog about it all. It'll be cool.'

What I really felt like doing was going somewhere to shoot pool, listen to a band play and drink way too many cokes. So I head to the local 'billiard center' that happened to be hosting a band tonight, by myself. I've got ten bucks in cash and plan to spend it on some pool, and maybe a game or two of Golden Tee (since I can't play that when I'm out with my wife.)

I get to the door, and I'm met with a $5 cover charge. Not bad, but unexpected. I'm going to come in and pay to play pool, but I need to pay at the door too? This band had better be good. Then I go to the bar to get a table and balls, another $5. Stoopidly, I offer over my other $5 bill. D'oh! Within 30 seconds I am out of cash and not an ATM in sight. Man, I suck at this going out thing. Maybe if I were a more attractive woman, the cover charge could have been 'waived', but that ain't happening now.

I regroup. I think, Okay, I'll get my table, shoot some stick, watch the scores on the TV's and wait for the band to crank up and maybe do some people watching. I'll get my free soft drinks, and just have to be an ass and not tip the poor waitress because I'm all out of cash. It'll be okay. I make my way to the table and realize I am pretty much the only one in town who thought coming here would be a good idea. Out of about a dozen tables, maybe 5 are in use. I know its early (10 pm), but a band is cranking up in 30 minutes, where are the people? That means the people watching is out.

As I begin to play, it dawns on me, playing pool against yourself is dumb. You know, I didn't win a single game. I was playing so bad that I was embarrassed, even though the place was half empty and absolutely no one had even noticed I was there. Speaking of that, the little blonde waitress didn't even bother to ask me if I wanted anything. She made her rounds of the 5 other tables, served drinks, made chit-chat, and walked right by me 3 times w/out a word. Oh yeah, I've still got it. So after forcing myself to play for 30 minutes (hey, I had to get my $5 worth), I gave up on the pool and made my way to a barstool to listen to the band as they got started.

As I sat at the bar, I reflected on my last 30 minutes of this exciting night out on the town. Then I decided to hell with it, I was whipping out the debit card to start a tab to order as many Red Bull's as I could stomach. I guess the bartender had some kind of premonition that my choice to begin wasting money I couldn't afford to was a bad idea, because he never acknowledged my presence. Yeah, I'm cool.

I managed to sit through about three songs of the most non-descript three guy band that was probably started in college and won't tour outside of a 250-mile radius. They weren't bad, but I couldn't even think of another group to compare them too. I finally decided to bail. Although I felt bad at first because I was the only one in the place that looked to be paying attention to them, I got over that when I realized they had bored themselves and were busy looking backstage while they played and making gestures to each other.

This is when I give up on the evening and head home. The depression of a failed evening was fortunately overtaken by the humor of the pathetic-ness of it all. I guess some of us have it, and some of us don't have a clue. Moral of the story: unless you're an attractive female or an unattached male with money to spend, just stay home, read the bedtime story for the kids and watch the Discovery Channel until you fall asleep at 11 pm and be comfortable with the fact that you are 38 yrs old, act like it."

So that's how my friend tells it. I can laugh because it's not me.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Randomosity

A few observations from that which is my world:

The "Golden Rule" has been irreparably broken. How you treat people no longer has much bearing at all on how they will treat you. If someone likes you, they will like you regardless (i.e. how the creeps always manage to have long relationships with women). If you are not that important to a person, it doesn't matter how majestically you treat them, you just won't rank above a tool that can provide them something they want. Bottom line: the paradigm has shifted. If you are going to be good and nice to people, do it without expecting any reciprocation. If you are hoping your good turn will be returned, don't waste your time. But don't be surprised if no one else does either.

After watching countless (well, I never bothered to count) episodes of "Good Eats", I've decided that Alton Brown, in all his goodness, couldn't make a pitcher of ice water without kosher salt. I mean, who really even has any of that stuff? If it doesn't come in the paper can with the umbrella-ed little girl, I've never seen it.

I've come to the conclusion that I can never watch "A Current Affair" again, regardless of what Barefoot says. Their "investigative reporting" consists of reading the tabloid headlines at the checkout stand and looking up people's names in the public record files at the local courthouse. Case in point: "Did Olivia Newton-John's boyfriend's recent disappearance have anything to do with the fact that just over 5 years ago he filed bankruptcy and checked the annual income box of $0-$50,000, which means he could have been making as little as $3 a month! Next on A Current Affair." Yeah, I'm sure that's probably the key to the whole terrible mystery.

What are "they" always listening to? And by "they" I mean the athletes, recording artists and actors that are always walking around with headphones on. Are they really all listening to music? If so, what music? You cannot see an athlete these days without headphones on when he's not playing. In the lockerroom, on the sidelines, in the streets wherever. What the heck are they listening to? Be honest, its "How to Speak Spanish in 15 Days", right?

And speaking of "they", what's with all of the monitors, screens, video games and DVD players in their cars? I can't possibly imagine that they spend more than about 20 minutes in their cars, if they have to go any further, they fly. And it's not like they are trying to keep their kids quiet. I just don't get it.

Well, I guess that's it for now. Any comments or answers to questions can be posted below.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

And may I say "Welcome, to the Future"

Hallelujah. My parents have broken down and bought a new computer. An impressive one no less. In fact, my mother mentioned that she was going to start taking space shuttle flight classes so she can justify all the bells and whistles.

Dad: Its got a DVD burner and you can burn both sides.
Me: Cool, now you can start making movies. That can be your new hobby when you retire.
Dad: Yeah, right.

I for one am excited. With the new set-up, they will also be getting high-speed internet. That was actually the impetus behind the whole thing. Their old computer wasn't that bad, it was just one version too early. It didn't have an ethernet connection for crying out loud. And with all of the programs that had been loaded on to it, intentionally and otherwise, you literally had to go in and warm it up for about 5 minutes before you actually started to use it. It was like a '76 Dodge Dart in Green Bay, Wisconsin, in February.

So say goodbye to dial-up and hello to all the weird and bizarre stuff on the net that I will now be sending over! Oh, and if anyone out there has a feature length film they need to store and edit, or an extended-play album to record, or the entire library of congress, I'll point you in their direction. As I told mom, with computers, as with bacon, you can never over buy!

Monday, August 15, 2005

Someone must have gotten caught...

As I walk in from work this evening, the girl child is sitting quietly with her doll. She then looks up at me and says, "No, Daddy, I don't know what's gotten into me." Boy, somebody must've been in trouble, but the less I know the better.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Sweatin' to the Oldies

I know I probably owe all of you a post about my recent marathon trip to Phoenix (Pa-hoe-nicks), and I am really going to try to get to that tomorrow, but I felt I needed to share yet another interesting happening from my new working world...

My latest foray into the world of paid employment is that of maintenance tech at a 300+ unit apartment complex. Well, this morning, I was making my usual morning rounds in my handy golf cart when I saw something that caught my eye. I looked up and all of the sudden I saw this woman jump sideways out of the front door of her ground level apartment. Then, as quickly as she jumped out, she jumped back in. I was about 25 yards away, and I sat wondering what just happened. Then, she did it again, only this time with her arms flailing. Now, if there's one way to grab my attention, its hopping around with your arms flying all over the place. So I decide to casually investigate.

As I roll my cart closer, I begin to notice some very bad music emanating from the unit, as well as a high pitched squeal. Then she hops out and back in again. Finally, I roll past the front door and take a peak as to what's going on. Lo and behold, there's Richard Simmons! Come to find out, this woman is enthusiastically "Sweatin' to the Oldies". She apparently needed more space in her living room to be able to keep up with Mr. Candy-Stripe Shorts, so she kicks open the front door and has at it.

Needless to say I laugh my rather large, un-Sweatin' to the Oldies butt off all the way back to the office. When I describe what happened to my co-workers, they look at me and say, "Oh yeah, that's Ms. So and So. She does that all the time. The one you really have to look out for is Ms. Whatnot. She does it too, naked."

My job search continues...

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Kudos Where Kudos Are Due

I would be remiss if I didn't send out big kudos (no, not the failed attempt to merge granola bars with candy) to my wife. If you are reading this site and haven't been to hers, get on over there (Not that there is actually much chance of that because I am sure it's her site that drives traffic to mine). The student has certainly surpassed the teacher. Not that I was really much of a teacher. I can just say that because I technically had my blog a whole 30 minutes before and I had to show her how to set it up the first time. If you'll excuse me, I'll be over here patting myself on the back...(Way to go Jeff! Good job! Couldn't have done it without you! etc...)

I must say that I am consistently impressed with the updates and tweaks she keeps making to her site. And her writing is pretty good too (notice I said "writing" not "spelling", hey, we all have to have things to improve.) I have also been blow away by her regularity... in posting (geez people). This is the woman who bailed on her Spanish class after two sessions because it was so close to the restaurant with the really good vegetable platter, the woman who was done with this whole "marriage" thing even though we were only half way through the ceremony (although I am happy to report she has stuck that out so far too).

And the way she has learned how to manipulate the HTML code of her site is pretty impressive. I'm supposed to be the one in the "biz", but yeah, I can't make heads or tails of a lot of it. At the rate she's going, she could be the next {insert name of really cool website designer}. Which is fine with me, because if VH-1 and Jerry Hall have taught me nothing else, its that I could be a Kept Man. Easy.

So here's a shout out to Barefoot. Keep up the good work. And don't let anyone or anything frustrate you into bailing on us.

Now if you could just show me how to change colors or something...

Welcome Back to the Workforce

Well, today was my first official day back in the working world. No, this is not a job I had hoped for. Nor is it a job that I hope to keep for very long. But it does pay actual money, and it gets me out of the house and will hopefully distract me from frighteningly comfortable obsession with kid's cartoons and the hour long block of Boy Meets World episodes every afternoon at 2 p.m.

Since this job isn't "in my field" or in an "office" (I'm actually doing manual labor), I had hoped that it would be a nice reprieve from "office drama." Not exactly. After just 1 1/2 hours on the job, I realized drama is drama is drama. After spending 20 minutes "calling" the local alligator out of a nearby lake (the local Wildlife officials allegedly encouraged the calling and feeding of said alligator on a regular basis so that it would become comfortable enough to come out of the lake so they could come by and grab it. Yeah, that sounds safe.), I found out that my boss's wife's boss was calling our work looking for my boss's wife because she had not shown up lately and she had heard that my boss was abusive and she was going to call the police because she was sure he had done something. Now he's totally upset because not only is this woman calling his work, and that could get him fired, she's accusing him of something really horrible and they have never met. Folks, this was all before lunch.

What time is Boy Meets World?