Why.

I have been pruning my Facebook and Twitter friends lists and my blogroll lately. The reason for this is simple: I can’t take the friggin’ negativity any more. My god there seems to be a lot of down people on these interweb tubes. Is this limited to the social circles in which I travel or is there a prevailing wave of depression making it’s way through the U.S. these days?

“I need the purple pill (the one that makes you happy)” Just get the hell out of bed.
“I’m fat.” (Yeah? So am I. Stop eating.)
“No one looks at me.” (Stop being ugly on the inside!)

Listen, I know that a lot of people in this world have a lot of problems. And the gods know that I have bitched and bitched and bitched (like right now!) on this blog on more than a few thousand occasions but when Every. Single. Blog. Entry. or every twit, tweet or twat is about how horrible the world is because your clothes are too tight or the oil ran out of your car or your hairdresser bleached your hair too blond or you’re shocked I tell you, shocked because you just found out that a hamburger with cheese and bacon wrapped in roast beef is bad for you and you’re blue flunking it all becomes very, very tedious.

It’s dragging me down, baby.

You want something to bitch about? How about the fact that there is no cure for AIDS yet or that our government is spending money like a sailor in a whore house by throwing money in every direction hoping that something somewhere gets fixed or we are eating food that is undoubtedly going to fill us with cancer 30 years from now or that today’s kids will have no imagination because everything is being electronically fed to them. You want to complain? How about the dead Americans and Iraqis in a war that doesn’t seem to have an ending or what about all the men and women still sitting in their living room full of despair everyday because they lost a loved one. What about the way we shove our elderly into nursing homes or burn oil in these outrageous behemoths in the interest of having the biggest car (and smallest dick, apparently) on the block? I could go on and on and on about issues that have a national or even global effect.

I like writing fluff pieces here in this blog. (Hey Paula!) I also like writing the heavy stuff once in a while. And yes I do complain a lot. But goddamn it, life is not that bad and when it is, it’s probably going to be something that you’ll laugh and/or be embarrassed about 10 minutes from now anyways so for the love all that’s holy mix it up a little bit!

I am going to try to do something this weekend that I’m not sure I’m capable of doing. I am going to power down the iPhone and leave it in the drawer of my nightstand both Saturday and Sunday. My contact with the outside world will be with real human interaction. I’m not going to twit, tweet, FB or interact with anyone that isn’t either talking to me on the landline at the house or better yet engaging in a conversation face to face. I’m going to hike or go to the beach, chase storms, take pictures and spend time with my family and recall what life was about before I became so embroiled in this digital revolution that I forgot what the sun looked like and what a sunny disposition felt like. You want to talk, call me on the home phone and c’mon get happy about it. Better yet? Visit me!

Enough is enough. I’d break into song here but I can’t remember if I prefer the Barbra or Donna part.

I posted this quote from another blog last week in reference to the anniversary of the moon landing back in 1969.

Some people say that September 11, 2001 was the moment America best defined itself. I respectfully disagree. On the evening of July 20, 1969 we defined ourselves not by our fear of what could happen, but our dreams of what would happen, if we only dared to dream.

This is so true. Our society seems to be so fear driven these days and I really think it’s been full-tilt in that direction since 9/11. While eating lunch at the mall today the electricity briefly blinked on and off. This outage lasted no more than five seconds. This is not an uncommon thing; it’s hot outside, there are way too many air conditioners on and we are putting a lot of demands on the power supply. Sometimes there is just not enough juice to go around. I just went on eating my lunch but when it happened, more than one person near me gasped in horror and there was one middle aged woman who screamed like she had just been shot.

I found her reaction to be a little over-the-top. What is really sad about the situation is that it’s not the first time that I have heard someone react that way to a power outage in the past five years ago. My god, what would she do if there was something life threatening going on?

I think here in the states we really have this whole fear thing going on and quite frankly it’s become quite tedious. For example, Every. Single. Thunderstorm. is a severe thunderstorm. There are no regular thunderstorms anymore. Last week we had several “Severe Thunderstorm Warnings”, accompanied by an alert of the Emergency Alert System. Not one storm passed through the area and being on-call last week I was well aware of who was getting hit with storms and who wasn’t. No one within 75 miles got hit with a severe thunderstorm. A few scattered storms here and there, yes, but nothing that would be considered “severe”. A bolt of lightning and a clap of thunder is not severe. It’s just the way it is.

By the way, back in the day the Emergency Broadcast System was reserved for really important things like nuclear bombs, catastrophic floods, tornados and hurricanes. If the two-tones of the EBS were heard without the preceding “This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System…” message then you were headed for the basement. Something bad was going to happen. With technology upgrades, the dire sounding two-tones of the days of yore have been replaced by something akin to “duck farts” and they fire the damn thing off every time someone has bad gas. No one takes it seriously anymore.

Now I know that really bad news gets really good ratings in the news business, especially when you have to fill 24 hours of a dozen all-news stations simultaneously, but we really don’t have to have a panic attack every time the power goes out or there’s a lightning strike. I won’t get into the whole “we are in Central New York and we get snow in the winter” thing that people get hysterical about.

Many have subscribed to the training(?) of living in fear, especially since 9/11. Small wonder people are stress eating, drinking and taking all manners of medicines to cope with it.

How about we start living in hope. And for goodness’ sake, stop sweating the small stuff.

By the way, I thought I’d share a picture of me smiling from the Apple Store at Eastview Mall in Rochester. Do I look hopeful or just mischievous.

What a week it has been. I think I need a vacation.

Wait, I just got back from vacation!

Talking or texting on a cell phone is a risky proposition, no matter how you go about doing it. Whilst I try really hard to mind my mobile manners while in a public setting, I have to admit that I am guilty of texting or talking while behind the wheel.

I have decided to stop this practice, effective immediately.

No longer will I hear the frightened murmurs of my passengers. I will now set an example for others by doing the responsible thing.

The decision has been spurred by this article that recently appeared in the New York Times. I find it interesting that politics are playing into whether or not the public should be informed about the dangers about distracted driving.

Here’s the link to the article.

For your reading pleasure, here’s a snippet of the article:

But such an ambitious study never happened. And the researchers’ agency, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, decided not to make public hundreds of pages of research and warnings about the use of phones by drivers — in part, officials say, because of concerns about angering Congress.

So I stopped at the convenience store to pick up a bottle of iced tea. I was in luck, though I rarely stop at this particular store so I was flying blind, so to speak, they had the brand of iced tea that I enjoy because it’s made of real all-natural tea (instead of just labeled all-natural tea which often contains high fructose corn syrup or sucralose). The young man behind the counter was relatively grubby looking; I pulled out my wallet to pay. As I did so, he looked like I had just pulled Magenta’s ray gun and was about to stun him. I handed him the two dollars and waited for my change. He looked at me oddly and gave me my change and I turned and left. I politely said “Thank you”, he was silent. Just as I was approaching the door I heard him mutter something.

“Fucking Canuck.”

Here’s the thing. I have more Canadian cash than American cash to my name at the moment. I had taken out too much cash from the ATM the last time I was in Canada and found myself with a few extra bills. Since we are going to Toronto for pride in a couple of weeks, I have opted to wrap my American cash in Canadian cash in my wallet so that I don’t forget I have it when we go back. I’m also not shy about the fact that I love Canada very much (at least the parts I’ve been in) and would love the opportunity to move there so I also keep the Canadian cash around to make people notice me in an odd little way. It makes me stand out, it makes them think. I like to think that it makes them think that not everyone is the same. I was born and bred in the United States and I love my country, but I have to admit that over the past ten years or so I haven’t been as proud of it as I have been in the past.

I thought out shrugging off this little grubby man’s comment but I decided not to. I turned back to him, walked a few steps in his direction and simply said:

“Thank you for demonstrating one of the many reasons the rest of the world dislikes the United States.” I was calm and rational as I said it. The grubby little man just stared back at my comment. Another woman at the register smirked. It was then that I turned and walked out.

It was the second time in relatively recent history that someone has insulted Canada around me. I think I find this surprising.

With the recent passing of Bea Arthur, The Hallmark Channel is showing it’s respects for this extraordinary actor with a “Golden Girls” marathon today.

Known for playing two very liberated, opinionated and in the case of ‘Maude’, controversial characters, Bea excelled at her craft and left the two shows when she felt it was the right time, not when the programs dissolved into cancelation.

I just finished watching episode #66, “Dorothy’s New Friend”. This episode features Dorothy’s new friend Barbara, a snotty literary type who looks down on Rose and Blanche. In an effort to make amends with Rose and Blanche, Barbara offers to take all the girls out to an exclusive club for the evening. Sophia’s date, Murray Guttman, arrives in a powder blue tuxedo. Barbara speaks with Dorothy in the kitchen on the matter, where Dorothy discovers that Barbara won’t take Murray to the club because he’s Jewish. Dorothy realises she has misjudged her new friend and tells her to go to hell.

The line is delivered in the typical Bea Arthur manner: full of confidence and not overstated.

The problem is, Hallmark covered the line up with a really out-of-place, out-of-date laugh track. They censored the line “go to hell”.

Wow.

Bea Arthur chose to play the characters of Maude Findlay and Dorothy Zbornak because she believed in those characters and what they represented. The “Golden Girls” marathon on Hallmark Channel today is a touching tribute to her work, however, I really don’t think that Bea would be satisfied with the way these episodes have been edited.

It’s a shame. I thought Hallmark Channel had picked up the “Golden Girls” from Lifetime because they recognised a classic.

What they apparently recognised was the ad revenue.

So on the way home from work I decide to do something really daring and start punching around the “terrestrial” radio stations on the old-fashioned radio in the Jeep. Traditional radio doesn’t offer much to a guy like me these days, what with all the merging and divesting and changing of the formats going on. There’s my old station that went to outright Top 40 and became very less gay, they play Britney Spears’ “Circus” 24/7. Sometimes they throw in a commercial or two to keep it interesting. There’s the “Good Times Rock ‘n Roll” station called “Oldiez” that plays that car cruisin’ music like “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper and “I Ran” by Flock of Seagulls. Then they play “The Twist” followed by “The Lord’s Prayer” by Sister Janet Mead. I think they should change their name from “Oldiez” to “Sybil”, as it would be much more apropro.

Four of the ten or so primary stations in this area have gone to an all religious format. Sometimes I get a kick out of hearing what they have to say on these stations because quite frankly I find them exceedingly absurd. One of my favorites, “Faith and Hope for the New World” or something like that was offering financial advice to callers. The call I listened to was from a man who was over his head in debt and didn’t know how to deal with it.

The man was living under the following circumstances. He and his new bride had four children in five years. They lived in a small house in the country that they absolutely adored but it was a little small and far from the city where their church was. So instead of selling the house and relocating, they decided to rent the house out and then buy a new house in the process, something newer, bigger and located in the city (he didn’t say which, I’m guessing Paducah). Due to their financial considerations, owning a house, having four toddlers, etc., they were unable to come up with a downpayment for their new house, so they got an 80/20 mortgage to cover that. After a couple of years they realised that they couldn’t afford the bigger, newer house that was located in the city so they decided to sell it.

O.k., they have two houses, one presumably being paid for by the rent they are collecting from their tenant in the small house in the country and another house that they have two mortgages on and can’t really afford. They decide to sell the second house. So what do they do?

They rent an apartment.

That’s right, they rented an apartment so they could sell the new house, because they didn’t know that you could be living in the house when it was being looked at by prospective buyers.

So they are paying roughly three mortgages and rent on an apartment that is presumably big enough to handle two adults and four toddlers.

They were curious as to where they went wrong with their finances.

The kind gentleman on the “Faith and Hope for the New World” gently told them that they didn’t need to move out of their house until it was actually sold and that they should bag the apartment and move back into the house to save a little money.

He was way too kind, I would have just called them a dumb ass.

And I wonder why the United States is in such financial disarray today. Just think, this brainiac has made four more just like him for the next generation to enjoy.

Earl and I are on our way to my Dad’s to drop off Tom in anticipation of our trip tomorrow. We were originally going to drive to Florida but we both love to fly so we are flying nonstop to Orlando tomorrow afternoon.

Even though I went to school to be a highway engineer, I’m really not feeling the “Happy Motoring!” vibe. Maybe I’m becoming crotchey, but it seems to me that people are becoming increasingly bad drivers and no one seems to give a damn. Drivers yak on cell phones, ignore traffic signals and any manner of discipline on the roads these days.

One thing I’m noticing is that people, in these parts at least, seem to be more and more terrified of “Right On Red”. It’s not a difficult concept, really, you stop at the red signal, assure that the coast is clear and then you make your right turn. It’s no different than a stop sign which, ironically, most people run.

Another issue that I have with drivers these days is that they’re terrified of winter driving conditions. Granted, if you live Corpus Christi you’re probaly not used to dealing with snow. But in these parts, where we get an average of 115 inches a year, snow is a given. However, no ice will be found on the road if it’s an early thaw and 50 degrees out, even if there is still snow on the ground. It’s physically impossible. There is no need to slow down to half of the speed limit.

So here I am. Sitting in the passenger seat. The cat is crying an average of one meow every 1.4 seconds and Earl is driving.

I think I might be a little crabby.

Earl, Jamie¹ and I were just finishing up supper last night when I decided to start clearing the table. I got up and picked up a few plates and walked across the kitchen toward the dishwasher.

“The floor feels a little squishy”, my technical talk is always appreciated. The tiles felt a little bouncy when I was walking across the floor.

“Don’t jump on them”, Earl replied. I guess I’m a little bouncy when I walk.

I deposited the plates in the dishwasher and started walking back towards the table. I took one step. On the second step there was a loud “bang” and two rows of the floor tiles were heaved and now shaped like an upside down “V”.

“I didn’t do anything!”, I yelled as I automatically defended myself. I think there’s a childhood trauma buried in that auto-defense mechanism I have. Something about locking the keys to the safe in the safe, but that’s another blog entry.

There we were with our own continental divide going down the middle of the kitchen. Upon further inspection, these two rows of tile were over the water pipes that lead to the dishwasher and sink from the hot water tank. There’s no water leaks or anything, it appears the heat from the pipes being used for the past 13 years finally took their toll on the glue holding the tiles down.

This morning Earl smashed the tiles so we could get them off the floor and we put a throw rug over the whole mess. The continental divide has turned into the continental canyon. It looks I know where the tax refunds are going.

¹ Jamie is our friend from Buffalo. He was visiting for the weekend.