Then and Now

Math night at the little guy's school. Working on a problem, I reminded him to borrow the one. Record scratch, screeching halt, heads turn, everyone stops and stares.

It's called re-grouping now. Well excuse me.

No borrowing, Pluto's out as a planet, Russia is now eight thousand six hundred forty two satellite countries all starting with vowels and ending in "tan", and Budweiser's Belgian. Belgian for the love of all things Flemish.

Can there be no constants from my youth...



Still Fighting


Still Scandals



Still Creepy

...Whew. Thank goodness some things never change.

Know When

Cigars are ridiculous. I'm sorry,but there is no cool associated with these stupid things. Lets face it, you look like you have a six inch turd sticking out of your mouth. Once you light it, your first impressions are confirmed. It is indeed a six inch turd. Cigar smokers are inhaling turd smoke. The rest of us, second-hand turd smoke.

Yesterday on the trek to Mizzou Arena from the parking garage, we fell in behind a trio of neer-do-wells who had obviously spent the preceding hours reliving their college years. One of them was burning a stogie. I say stogie, but judging from the 4-color litho, foil stamped band on the turd, and from the diameter of said turd, it probably set him back a fortune. So the unfortunates behind this ultra cool guy were treated to very expensive turd fumes all the way to the game.

In case my sense of smell hadn't already convinced me this guy was a complete jerk-off, with dozens of trash bins in plain view, he decided to throw his still burning turd stick onto the decorated bricks of the beautiful plaza area as we approached the entrance to the arena. And then, he just walked away. Just like he was all that.

This is the guy who makes change in the collection plate. This is the guy who has never made eye contact with any woman because he's too busy staring at their chests. This is the guy that tells you he would have been a green-beret, but decided to go to college instead. You know the type.

The type of guy who gets a day pass from his wife and decides to prove his street-cred by drinking too much and smoking dried crumbly turd lumps wrapped tightly in small, flattened turd sheets.

Know when to say when kids. It's appropriate when you're 21. It should be mandatory when you're 42. In terms of turds, not sure which was bigger; the adolescent trapped in a man's body or the Los Angeles class submarine the idiot was smoking.

Thank you. That is all.

Thoughts From the Crapper

3:00 am Wednesday.

More doing, less thinking.

I find myself thinking about doing more lately. Note the irony.

More doing, less thinking. Yes. That would be a good thing

If I do some thinking on this, does that count?

There is one thing I can do immediately. Pretty sure I'll start by doing less eating of what ever the hell I had for dinner last night and never thinking about it again.

Progress.

Jon Stewart

If you know me, you know how I feel about network media.

I couldn't pass sharing these two videos.

Language warning. They bleep it out, but still, you know what's being said.

Might have to copy and paste the links. Worth it, I promise. Still laughing.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-october-12-2009/cnn-leaves-it-there

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-march-4-2009/cnbc-financial-advice

Thankful

As the year draws to a close, I thought a moment of reflection was in order.

The 2009 top ten things I'm most thankful for:

#10) Glad I didn't invite Kanye West to my son's football awards banquet.

#9) Never turned to John and Kate, Tiger Woods, and David Letterman for marital advice

#8) The words Sexting, Public Option, and Birther never entered my lexicon

#7) Jennifer Garner

#6) Refused to don a face mask or drink the swine flu cool-aide

#5) Co-writes

#4)Decided to forgo parenting advice from Octomom and the balloon-boy parents

#3) Did not get around to writing a check to Bernie Madoff

#2) Opted out of that weekend trip with Governor Sanford

#1) My family

Oops

Driving into the parking lot, I saw an old friend from work pumping gas. She had retired a few years ago, and I don't see her much anymore.

Never one to miss an opportunity to say hello, I rolled down the window and shouted, "Hey old lady, shouldn't you be at home quilting or something", an inside joke my friend would have found hilarious.

Turns out, this wasn't my old friend.

Nope. Complete stranger. She was looking me over like she was trying to decide if she needed throw down and kick my butt or run away.

Run away. That's the option I chose. I threw her a wave and offered up a "sorry, wrong person" as I drove right back out of the parking lot, never stopping. I needed gas badly, but I needed to escape her dread gaze of doom even worse.

My bad...

Ideas

"I got an idea." Four of the best words ever spoken.

Even when compared to "Jennifer Garner is here", "time for your meds", and "your giant burrito sir", it ranks among the top.

Ah, the idea.

Voiced only at the confluence of confidence and disregard, it emerges very infrequently, often times tentatively, furtively. Rare. Prized. Fragile, formed on substances that can quickly dissolve once exposed to light and oxygen vaporizing right before your eyes.

In a room, they are regarded like heirlooms, presented with reverence and care, white gloved. We desire them to be liked, even loved. Like parents, eager to show them off, yet deathly afraid of how they will be received. Giddy when selected. Hurt when rejected, certain the others just don't get it. You quickly pack it back away careful not to bruise it. After all, we're given only so many, never knowing when, or if, the next one will come. Given.

The good ones can't be cultivated. Like synthesized diamonds, they shine, but the people you care about knowing will do just that, know. More born then made, they are a currency to be traded, valuable only to a select few, worthless outside the smallest of circles.

Today I am an idea merchant, wares displayed in the store window for all to see. Dutifully, I will tend them. Browse all you want, hold them up to the light, flick the rind to check for ripeness. Buy or place them back on the shelf. It doesn't matter.

I have inventory. I feel rich. For now.