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Aug
31 |
 I'm in no position to judge Idaho Senator Larry Craig on his Brokeback bathroom adventures; primarily because I’m not an Idahoan. Still, as this scandal churns-on I can't help but notice how Republicans have worked themselves into a rabid frenzy in turning on their colleague, many of them calling for his resignation outright.
I don't get it. David Vitter of Louisiana admitted poking D.C. whores and not one Republican has called for his ouster. President Bush misrepresented our justification, or lack thereof to go to Iraq. As of today, nearly 3,800 Americans have died, and not one WMD found. Republicans remain silent on that one also.
Aside from wondering why Minnesota cops are spending so much time and resource hours on catching naughty guys in restrooms, (not exactly hunting for drug dealers or terrorists, wouldn't you agree?), the double standard in the Craig affair is coming into better focus with each news broadcast.
Like many Americans, I find myself wondering had Craig been soliciting sexy time from a female, if anyone would be calling for his resignation. I doubt it. Seems like Senator Craig's real crime is being fond of the homosex; and if Republicans hate anything, it's homosex-loving Senators and other people. After all, family values poster boy David Vitter still enjoys the privileges of his office. Then again, paying hookers for sex while preaching God, country and the 'sanctity of marriage' is a forgivable 'mistake' while the possibility of Larry Craig being turned-on by another guy is a most unpardonable sin. While freshman Vitter's future with Republicans remains refulgent despite his appetite for prostitutes, any chance of Larry Craig's redemption has been flushed away.
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Aug
31 |
 It's barely 6 a.m.; I'm having coffee and watching news about two of Boston's finest citizens who died fulfilling their sworn duty fighting a fire at a Korean restaurant and in the process, saving a next-door pet kennel full of little animals. Sobering yes, but outside my living room window comes happy whistling. I look out, and down and see one of our local trash-pickers going through the bag of garbage I've just put out. Friday, like Tuesday, is trash day and the South End attracts trash pickers because so many people in my neighborhood waste so much good stuff that the homeless, needy and those who don't mind sacrificing a little pride for a slightly used sweater like to shop.
I'm happy because I know he's about to discover the excellent pair of shoes and a set of nicely folded t-shirts I've planted inside one of the bags in anticipation of someone doing their trash-day shopping. One t-shirt I'm especially proud to give-up. It no longer fits but has the silhouette of a dog emitting a gas cloud from his hind-end with the words "blame the dog". I loved that t-shirt and so will the trash picker no doubt. That's the kind of guy I am, always thinking of my fellow man, making quite little sacrifices, right down to my side-splitting humorous t-shirts. Yeah, I'm happy to do it.
I have coffee and watch him picking through it. Will he discover the black Bass wingtips first, the slightly worn Sketchers or the t-shirts? He's in for quite a surprise. I wonder if he'll look up or around in hopes of seeing his donor and give a little nod of thanks. I'm waiting with pride and anticipation.....only to see him throw the shirts aside, dig the shoes out and toss them between his legs, reach a bit deeper and pull out the empty Tide bottle. He sticks that into his little buggy along with three Coke cans, kicks the rest to the side and goes about his way; My precious donated shirts and shoes strewn around the once neatly tied bag of refuse, the front of my house looking much like the morning after of a hobo prom night. His loss. You can't wear a Tide bottle and if you could, it wouldn't be as funny as the t-shirt.
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Aug
27 |
 The official last week of summertime and so little has been accomplished by me, no goals met and I can't stop damning myself for it. It reminds me of that little poem I posted several weeks back; it's so late, so soon. How? It all goes by so fast once you hit your 30s. Are you listening you 20-something bitches? I know you read this and you'd better heed my warning. It all goes by so fast.
I've done a mental checklist just to make sure. Physical goals met? NO. New haircut style to compliment said physical goal? NO. Teach the dog to sit on command? NO. Clean fridge and restock only with green things that I cook? Ummm, NO, but I buy those Healthy Choice frozen dinners. Still, no goal met. Christmas shopping done: You're kidding, right? Long weekend on sunny beach? NO. Trip to parents'? NO. Achieve total self-satisfaction or be well on the way by September 1st? NO NO NO.
Sometimes the To-Do mountain is just too tall and menacing to climb, which is why I begin envying married and partnered people more each day. At least they have someone for motivation, to give them loving reminders. And if not, well they have somebody to blame it on now don't they? For me, it's a daily list of goals, a kitchen chalkboard and/or pinning Post-It notes to the dog. And even that doesn't work.
Darryll and Paul, my cocktail-loving neighbors are home from vacation this coming weekend and I can't wait. My planned trip to Nova Scotia just another daydream not accomplished so I look forward to this coming Saturday and Sunday...and Monday. I'll force 'the boys' to join me at a local bar for a bottled water and ice cold margarita where I'll whine about my lack of accomplishment, my empty life and how I've learned to clean my coffee maker with lemon juice and seltzer water: and when that's done, I'll lift my glass toward the sunset and bid adieu to summer.
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Aug
26 |
Storms on the Way
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Aug
25 |
 A lost generation of brain power. Human Resource consultants in the Washington DC area have identified the new Human resource practices as basically wiping out a generation of corporate memory. Published HR specialists cite the hiring of the pretty, the young and the cool, wiping out a generation of over fifty manpower that simply vanished! For corporations, it was the cheaper way to go. The fallout? Loss of major contracts to mediocre and under qualified companies overseas; unemployed parents...and a TV culture free of adults. Worse, a shallow economy based on paper. HR Electronic disdain for applicants, convoluted processes to compete globally for the job next door has displaced home owners; community builders, and family infrastructure. Add policing powers collecting for local budgets (such as court fees exceeding three thousand dollars for a simple parking ticket), and you have a devastated and abandoned landscape! (See infrastructure failures; demographic spikes and unemployment statistics)... Its no wonder the worth of education has devalued as people ask "For what the hefty student loans, then?" Overall, a brain drain of American born talent, skills and knowledge where everything but wages has inflated!
- Thanks to Victoria George, V. George @ Linkedin & The Chronicle of Higher Education Online
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Aug
24 |
 He's taken a liking to my gym shirts while enjoying secret nap time on the bed.
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Aug
24 |
I'm sitting squat on the living room floor trying to thread the shoelace of my still new and unused New Balance running shoe for the morning walk/run I intend to take, when Chris Cuomo mentions something about a space discovery. I push the dog off the sofa behind me to grab the remote he's laying on top of and hit the rewind button for the cable box, because I am very interested in space stuff. Yes, space stuff.
According to the blonde news bunny Chris passes the story off to, scientists have discovered a massive void in space where nothing exists. So big in fact, the area is like 1 billion-trillion miles across. I have no idea how far that is but I bet it's big, and I am fascinated by the concept.
Scientists say the void is just a freak of nature and the news bunny ends her report by saying "nothing to see here folks unless you're bored enough to like dead space." In less than 45 seconds, the news bunny both enticed me with a story, then insulted my interest in it. You're the one reporting the damned story lady.
I went back to threading my shoe and forgot all about my run.
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Aug
23 |
 PEAS! MUST they exist in every otherwise edible, otherwise delicious prepared food? My mother all but forced-fed green peas to me as a child which is why to this day, I am loath of their look and taste and existence. Mothers of the 1970s may not have been the hyper-sensitive, annoying, child safety and care obsessed creatures who infest the U.S. Mommy Culture of today, but my mom was always careful to make sure we had a green veggie before us when we sat down to our bland baked chicken or Hamburger Helper or meatloaf of whatever the main course may have been. More times than not, the "healthy" portion of our meal would be peas. PEAS! And I had to eat every last one of the hellish things before I could get up. And no, there was no dog to feed them to; dogs lived outside which is exactly where Coco the black lab or Snoopy the other one who's breed I can't remember was. And had they been, they certainly wouldn't have gobbled my peas; THAT was my own personal, hellish cross to bear.
My memory fades by the day but I remember one of my mom's favorite lines when I'd respond to her oh-so-rare question of "what do you want for dinner?" My canned reply was always "mashed potatoes and corn mama!" Being the Mississippi boy I was, the world of perfect dining always included mashed potatoes and corn and entree be damned. It was always negotiable as long as it included mashed potatoes and corn. "THAT'S PIG FOOD!" was her standard reply, and we'd end-up with one of the two requested side items usually accompanied by, guess what? PEAS!
I have no idea what my sister would ask for but it wasn't salad. She had her own previous battle with THAT which involved a dreadful aunt with a bad attitude. So it wasn't salad. It was the 1970's though and I don't remember RJ eating at the table a whole lot. She would be off with friends like Joanna Caston or in her room doing whatever girls of the 1970s did. For me, I was left alone at the table with my peas all too often and dreaming of the day I'd be all grown up and could have my corn and mashed potatoes.
Peas still exist everywhere and as a bachelor who doesn't like cooking; my contact with them is all too common from the deli bar at Stop-&-Shop to those otherwise fantastic pot pies I'm so fond of, if only they were pealess... They exist in the potato salad in many cafeterias and almost always in a tuna casserole or stuffing or mixed salad; they repulse me like a crucifix to a vampire and have no place on my limited kitchen shelf space beside the green beans, Cajun seasoning, oatmeal and bouillon cubes.
Yeah, this seems mundane to you no doubt but trust me, if you had the sickening aversion to the vile pods, you'd have a chip on your shoulder too.
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Aug
21 |
 I'm folding white clothes and if you knew me, you'd know I'd rather eat shredded glass with baby bird relish than fold clothes. Dishes? No problem. Vacuuming, I think of it as cardio AND getting the house clean at the same time. But clothes-folding, you can keep it... But like I was saying, I'm folding clothes and hating every second of it, perfectly lining-up the edges of the towels so they look just right in the towel shelf like any good OCD patient might do. What was I saying? ..Oh! I'm folding towels and the phone rings. "Hello, Joseph!?" yes? "It's Donna from 800-GoWins!" I'm sorry, WHO? "Donna. And I wanted to let you know you're the winning selection for a free two-night stay at one of our luxury resort hotels in the Kissimmee/St. Cloud area near some of the world's most famous attractions.
Donna was apparently hoping I'd buy into the ruse we're old friends, worthy of first-name basis...But I decide to play because she's mentioned free, hotel AND Florida all in one sentence.
"We're offering a two-night stay at one of our resorts and only have a limited number and YOU have been selected as one of the lucky winners. There's no commitment and while you're with us, we want to show you first-hand an opportunity to own your OWN Florida vacation home!" Okay, now I understand. But still, she has me. I'm going to listen a bit longer.
That's great! I said. How much do I pay? I mean, really? How much? Might as well tell me now. (She chuckles) "Nothing but your own transportation to and from Kissimmee or Orlando if you prefer. And meals are on us also! We only ask you attend one meeting..." At that point, I tune-out but start thinking of ways I could get the two-night stay and stiff the meeting. I tell Donna, after she asks for my full name and that of my "wife" that I'm on my own; a certain if not permanently confirmed bachelor. "Oh, that's okay Joe. Do you have a fiance' or girlfriend you'd like to bring along?" Donna has certainly missed her class teaching "significant other" as a noun back in telemarketer school. NOPE! Just me, I tell her. "Well, we only ask that you bring along one other person since our offers are, you know, geared toward couples interested in purchasing vacation properties." COUPLES?!? Interested in purchasing vacation properties?!?! Donna, YOU called ME. Who told you I was a couple OR an interested vacation property buyer? Donna goes silent and after a few seconds, stammers.. but I'm not listening. I hang-up, hoping Donna's realized she upset someone's lonely little apple cart, reminding a poor bachelor how very single he is AND denying him a solo trip to Kissimmee/St. Cloud all because he's spouseless. Fuck her....
I may be single and without a luxury two-night hotel stay in Kissimmee/St. Cloud, but I have a stack of perfectly folded towels while Donna's wearing a head-set shilling time-shares to miserable married people.
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Aug
20 |
 ME on a diet doesn't work so well. I never liked the word 'diet' anyway. I've begun to notice how increasingly difficult it is telling people things like "I played football all through high school" and "yeah, I'm a certified Spinning instructor and used to train fat kids back home". I can still say those things, only now through slightly embaraased blushing while noticing how confused my audience typically seems. "You?!? No WAY!". Yeah, go ahead, say it. I know that's what you're thinking, right? SAY IT!
I don't think I'm as unhealthy on the outside as I am on the inside and I'm beginning to notice little creaks and snaps and pulls and aches and bumpy things on my eye lids when I close my eyes slightly to fix my graying hair in the rearview mirror. Billions of others have experienced these very same things, but this is NOT supposed to happen to me. It's all very gross, like feet.
So I've been on this passive health surge the last couple of months. The fish oil supplements, the homemade shakes with psyllium husks and fresh blueberries and natural whey protein, not the synthetic crap; suffering with hunger and fish burps and nausea when taking my vitamins too early without regard to my stomach being slightly empty with the exception of said homemade shake or a strawberry SlimFast. HOW do people do this? Just where the hell DOES People Magazine and Women's World and Men's Health find all those reformed, former fatties they plaster across their covers on any given month with the boldface proclamations "How I lost 120lbs without surgery"; fatties are typically right there on the cover staring at me in all their swimsuit-donning, air-brushed glory. But I digress.
I've been trying to eat fresher things trying my damdest to avoid bad stuff, but have you realized that everything is made with high fructose corn syrup, from ketchup to steak sauce, two of the basic food groups in any man's diet? Yup.
All that being said, it should come as no surprise that as I'm cursing the aisle of Foodies Urban Market on Saturday, I'm assaulted by bag of Tostitos flour tortilla chips, apparently stacked too high and just waiting to fall on my head and bounce off into my basket. I was afraid I'd be blamed on dropping them and ruining the crunchy carby goodness therein, so I kept them. Along with a jar of extra chunky salsa that was already in the basket when I took it. And perhaps its less than ironic that as I'm checking out, I see my most favorite candy bar in the world, typically hard to come by, the Hershey S'more Bar; and it's just sitting there, alone, the last of it's breed and who knows when I'll come across the divine confection again. I simply couldn't pass it up and a voice from above told me to take it, its very presence being a phenomenon, like seeing a Leprechaun or an image of the Virgin Mary in your Mac-N-cheese. So I took that too and for one, guilty yet regretless afternoon, I was complete. ...True story.
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Aug
10 |
 I have an acquaintance who is so entrenched in lie-telling, they forget what they told, to whom, when and for what reason. Know anyone like that? I'm at the end of my rope with it. How could someone otherwise so beautiful, intelligent and kind be such a complete asshole? Beats the shit out of me. I learned early on, like the rest of you bitches how to spin a tale when situations called for it. And then some. But I've reached the age where I don't have to. I owe you nothing other than what you see in me and I expect as much back. Is that so much to ask? I didn't think so. Save your fiction for the Height & Weight section of your driver's license. You know who you are.
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The Logo network held its 'debate' between the Democratic presidential candidates last night. I tuned-in for a bit and queer John Edwards was still doing her queer 'I'm not a queer' shtick, fake smile and hokey drawl included. Nevermind the rumors of him spending the early days of his career smoking tube steak around the Carolinas; I think he's a big queen for lots of other reasons. But I guess it takes balls to tell Melissa Etheridge to her face you don't believe in gay folk having the right to marry whom the fuck they like. But he says he wants to be a "president for everyone". Liar. ....Too bad Liz Edwards was the one in the family stricken by cancer. Life's not fair.
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Aug
7 |
 I hate fish burps. It's a new phenomena with me and I don't like it one bit. In an effort to take tiny itty bitty baby steps toward making myself better and healthier and without much cholesterol, I've taken to popping fish oil supplements on a daily basis. They're all the rage you know. Diane Sawyer takes them as does Robin Roberts. (But we see how healthy they made her I suppose. But that's another entry. Maybe.) The first month I was taking the NatureMade, a brand I picked up from Walgreens and they seem to work pretty well, although I wouldn't exactly know if they're working well or not. By 'well' I mean they weren't causing the frequent bathroom trips or foul emissions I was afraid they may cause before beginning the regimen.
Anyway, I finally ran-out and picked up a new bottle a few days ago, this time going cheap and getting a slightly smaller bottle of another brand. I read in Men's Health how you're supposed to take them with a certain dosage of something called DHA and EPA and want a combined dosage of the two of 500mg per day. The article says to ignore the suggested dosage on the bottle and to try and find one with Vitamin E, also known as tocopherol to offset the oxidation of quickly eroding Omega-3s. Now, don't I sound like I know what I'm talking about?
The article also mentions "fish burps" and while my first, slightly more expensive supplements didn't cause this little side effect of healthy pill popping, the news ones seem to be made for it, and it’s gross. A lesson learned for me that everything good comes at a price no matter how small.
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Websites and their upkeep don't come cheap and a buck here or there really helps.
Thanks for your support!
-JD
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