Why.

Since I have the luxury of working from home, I am able to keep track of how many phone calls our home phone number receives on a typical day. Today, the daily number has reached a double digit for the first time.

I am not amused.

I just checked the National Do Not Call Registry and confirmed that our number has been registered for quite some time. Since we are well beyond the 31 day “grace period”, theoretically I should not be receiving any telemarketing calls, never mind upwards near a dozen a day.

If the United States Government can’t manage a database that theoretically contains one table with three columns (serialid, phone number, effective date), it is beyond my comprehension to think that any sort of data can be effectively managed by them. This makes me very nervous, because if they’re aggregating all sorts of data on its citizens and tell us not to worry because we won’t be tagged in error, how on earth am I suppose to believe this when they can’t even reliably list my phone number in a list of forbidden-to-telemarketers phone numbers?

In all reality, the Do Not Call Registry appears to be a complete waste of time and quite frankly, I feel the need to double up the foil on my tin foil hat.

Before I dive into this blog entry, I must confess that it is not populated with all of the photos I had originally planned on including with this narrative. Just as I was taking photos, a very large woman with a very large baby carriage parallel parked in front of the beverage station that I am about to talk about and I didn’t have room to wedge my iPhone 5 in for a proper photo. Please bear with me.

Earl and I are at the local Panera for a little wind down soft drink and treat. This location was renovated a few months ago and part of the sprucing up of the place involved relocating the self-serve drink station to the rear of the restaurant.

It wasn’t the most efficient of moves.

To keep matters interesting, the drink dispensers are located to the right of the utensils and condiment station as shown above in the second photo. So, one gets an empty cup at the front register, follows handwritten signs to the back of the store, fills their drink amongst others that are trying to figure out how to fill their drink and then to get a cover for their cup of free water (or purchased pop, iced tea, etc.), they must move to the aforementioned condiment/utensils station to the left of the beverage dispensers.

However! The dispensers and the condiment/utensils station are separated by …

… a hallway! And it’s not just any hallway, but it’s a hallway to the seating that was recently added to the location AND the rest rooms. So people whipping their baby buggy around Panera can slam into the patron who is trying to move from the filling station to the covering station.

As seen in the first photo, there is plenty of room to the right of the beverage station to house the utensils, or at the very least, the covers for the beverage cups.

This is not efficient. This isn’t even smart. The hallway is often slippery due to spilled drinks. I would think that a chain as large as Panera would have already figured this scenario out to peak efficiency.

Apparently I was wrong.

So Earl and I went out on a little date night to the Armory Square area of Syracuse. We had a few cocktails, we enjoyed a nice meal together at the Empire Brewing Company and we had some great conversation. After our little adventure at the brewery, we decided to go for a walk before returning to the Jeep.

That’s when I discovered that I needed to find a restroom. Beer has that effect on me.

I quickly navigated us to a nearby Starbucks, where I hastily ordered an unsweetened green iced tea and asked for the code to gain access to the men’s room. Armed with the code and with Earl installed to pick up my tea, I made my way to the restroom and did what I had to do.

A sigh of relief.

As I started to get myself back together and presentable to the public, I was disheartened to discovered that the one-seat restroom was completely out of toilet paper.

Oh noes!

I looked around and found no place anywhere in the small room where extra toilet paper could be hiding. There was no cabinet under the sink. The public restroom certainly has no need for a medicine cabinet. I guessed I would have to settle for paper towels.

Except I was in Starbucks.

Where every thing is “green” and “environmentally friendly.” (Plastic cups notwithstanding).

No paper towels.

No extra toilet paper.

No tissues.

There wasn’t even a well-read copy of Reader’s Digest.

The only thing available was a hand dryer and I had no idea what I was going to do with that in this situation.

I improvised. How I improvised shall be left to the gentle reader’s imagination, but I will say this, from this day forward I shall always grab a napkin or two before entering a Starbucks restroom. Just in case.

I like to think of myself as a caring individual of this planet. I am trying to leave as little destruction of the environment as possible during my stay here and for the most part I think I’m doing an ok job. Of course, I drive a Jeep Wrangler, which is not exactly the most eco-friendly vehicle one can choose, but like I said, I do an “ok” job.

I noticed shortly after purchasing my Jeep that there was an indicator on the dashboard that showed when I was driving in an ecologically friendly fashion. A little “Eco On” light would blink on and off when my driving habits were where they should be and it didn’t take long for me to figure out where the “sweet spot” was to get that light to be on as much as possible, for example, the light never came on over 72 MPH and it would not come back on until you slowed down to 65 MPH. When commuting back and forth to the office, I would drive at 70 MPH on the Thruway and watch others whizz by me, knowing that I was doing my part to make a smaller impact on the environment. I didn’t feel smug.

The past weekend we had to get down to the Philly area pretty quick, so I kind of shunned the Eco indicator on the dashboard and, thankfully, was able to turn the indicator off so I wasn’t constantly reminded of my temporary driving habits. I felt some guilt but I did my best with it.

Imagine my surprise when the fuel-use indicator showed that I gained a greater MPG rating than when I was trying to drive with the Eco On indicator illuminated. Instead of averaging around 18.5 MPG, I was able to hit a little over 20 MPG and that was be driving faster than usual.

Thinking that there must have been some helpful hills and the like, I decided to experiment again yesterday during my normal commute to the office and sure enough, when ignoring the Eco indicator on the dashboard, I was able to achieve a higher MPG rating.

What’s up with that?

I don’t think I’m missing anything here in determining that a higher MPG means a touch less of an impact to the environment, so why the discrepancy? No clue. Earl says that the Eco light is a gimmick. I’m starting to wonder that myself.

There’s too many gimmicks in the world.

“April showers bring May flowers.” It’s a popular saying in these parts, what with the ample rain we get every year during the month of April. As I look outside over our patio, I see the rain coming down in droves and indications that the temperature is hovering just about 40F.

Sigh.

I will say that I’m thankful that it’s not colder and that we are not getting snow at the moment. Worried isn’t the right word, but there is a thought lingering around in my head that tomorrow morning we’ll wake up to snow on the ground.

Sigh.

I keep looking at the weather app on my iPhone and seeing that by this time next week it should be in the 60s. I am really, really looking forward to that.

I love kids. I think their presence is important for the continuity of the human race. I have to admit that without kids, the world would certainly be a different place. Especially in a hundred years or so.

I believe that kids should be given the opportunity to vocalize and be creative and find their path, no matter what it may be, with as much encouragement as possible from the adults around them. A kid that is free to express him or herself appropriately will hopefully grow up to be a well-adjusted, contributing member of society. And that’s what we all want, right?

Please note that in the previous paragraph I said, “express him or herself appropriately.

I try not to judge people based on stereotypes. I do it, but I really tried hard not to do it. But when I saw a scrubby looking family of four, complete with two young tots, headed to the row behind me on this flight, whilst carrying take-out pizzas, I knew it was not going to be a quiet flight. I knew there would be little in the way of napping. And I could really use a nap today.

I’m not going into the intricacies of wondering why an airport vendor would serve full-sized take-out pizzas in an airport terminal, nor am I going to question as to why they brought them onto the plane, especially when we will be landing in relatively close proximity to the lunch hour. I’ve smelled worse food on plane in the adventure with the yak sandwich Earl and I encountered on a flight years ago.

Apparently the child bouncing on the tray table on Friday’s flight was just an appetizer for my airlines experience this weekend. For this scrubby family of four with their airport Chuck E Cheese in tow have kids that are screaming at the top of their lungs, kicking the seat at an almost amusing velocity and, from what I can tell from the sound, trying to exit the airplane by banging on the window as hard as possible while making a shrieking noise not to be equaled by the whine of the aircraft engines.

It’s not that I’m a snob. Ok, perhaps I am a bit of a snob, but I believe that we should train our children to behave appropriately in public and that starts by behaving appropriately at home.

The father of the group has put on headphones and sunglasses and has tuned out what is apparently SNAFU. The mom is gazing at the scabs on her new arm tattoo. The tattoo is that of a wolf head. I don’t think her biceps quite do the tattoo justice. She’s busy, so the two children are doing the aforementioned jumping and screaming and banging on the window.

On lookers from outside might see large letters forming the words “HELP ME” on an iPad in the window of the aisle in front of them.

Frequent flyers are probably chuckling knowingly because this is apparently the way flying works today. I’ve lamented on the loss of dressing nicely and behaving civilly while on board an aircraft. Those days are long gone, apparently, and have been replaced by the McGrubby to go set.

I know, I know, I sound old and cranky and I’m really trying not to be. Earl says I sweat the small stuff. But when you can’t take a needed nap and the flight you’re on doesn’t even offer any sort of entertainment, sweating the small stuff is basically the only thing you can do.

33 minutes and counting.

Sources close to Sony/Screen Gems have confirmed the greenlight for a remake of “Bewitched”. Beyonce has signed on to star as Samantha Stephens, the famous role originated by Elizabeth Montgomery.

Dionne Warwick has signed on to play Samantha’s mother Endora. When asked for comment, Ms. Warwick simply said, “gurl, I knew all those years at the psychic network would pay off!”

Sherri Shepard has been approached to play nosy-neighbor Gladys Kravitz, however, her commitments to “The View” are preventing her from joining this reimagining of the top-rated 60s series. The source could not firm further rumors that Barbara Walters is considering releasing Sherri from her contract. In moments of senility, Ms. Walters said she could be persuaded if she was considered to play the role of Mr. Ed.

Sony expects the series to debut 4/1/14.

One of the cool theories behind excessive use of technology is that it should reduce the amount of paper we use. Hasn’t that always been a mantra, to try to go as paperless as possible?

I just stood in line at the post office awaiting my turn. The customer in front of me had a parcel waiting. The clerk scanned it and the parcel came up COD. Theoretically, there was money due. The customer should not have been given the parcel until he paid for the contents.

The concept of COD still being around is quite humorous to me. I haven’t bought anything COD in a couple of decades. The last time we had any sort of postage due was when an overzealous couple didn’t put enough postage on their wedding invitations and we had to pay for the privilege to RSVP, but even that was eons ago.

The clerk scanned the package numerous times and the computer insisted that it was COD. There was some drama about trying to get out of the proper screens and the like but the clerk didn’t believe the computer because there was no COD paperwork attached to the package. So she just gave the guy the package.

This is the same postal service that just eliminated the priority mail confirmation form to go as paper free as possible.

So after the guy got the free COD package it was my turn. I had one envelope to send with confirmation. The clerk put a little sticker on my envelope. I paid in cash and then the same postal service that is trying to go paper free spewed this monstrosity of a receipt at me.

This is your government efficiency at its best.

People, gay men in particular, that hyperventilate and get downright evil when a man decides to shave his beard down to a goatee or grow a beard or change it up a bit and go with just a mustache need to calm the hell down. It’s not the critic’s face and quite frankly it’s none of their business. When I read comments from others about someone’s decision to change it up a bit and they scream in anguish usually reserved for the likes of nuclear explosions, plagues and famine, someone needs a reminder to keep things in perspective.

When I shaved off my handlebar mustache for charity last fall you would have sworn I had just slapped my grandmother and sold her into slavery. Shaving off that monstrosity of a mustache boosted my self esteem ten-fold and it made me feel good about myself. Will I grow another one? Perhaps.

A fellow blogger recently shaved his big beard down to a mustache. The cries from the peanut gallery sound like he just betrayed his country and sold the launch codes to the Russians. Calm down people, it’s only facial hair and odds are he’ll grow another beard someday.

I enjoy looking at beards. I also enjoy mustaches and clean shaven faces. But what’s more important is the person inside. There’s a lot of beautiful people out there and they all look different and can choose to change how they look without needing to hear judgment and the like.

I was recently chastised by a beard fan because my charity “promoted the destruction of facial hair”. No, my charitable efforts helped raise money for homeless kids, and if losing a mustache for a while was going to help a teen sleep somewhere other than the streets then I’m going to shave it off and raise the money.

This has been bugging me for a while and I finally felt the need to get it off my chest. It’s only hair. It’ll grow back when the owner wants it to.

He’s still the same guy inside.