Why.

I’ve decided that it is at age 40 that one becomes afflicted with the “get those damn kids off my lawn!” syndrome. I find myself thinking angry thoughts about the state of the country today and it has mostly to do with change. I’m not really feeling the vibe of society in general today, moreso than usual, and quite frankly some things are leaving me feeling baffled.

For example, I have mentioned countless times that Earl and I live in Upstate New York. We live downwind of a lake. It’s a really big lake, so big it’s called a “Great Lake”. It’s one of five with such a designation. It’s called Lake Ontario.

Mother Nature, always looking for mischief, decides to bring cold, Arctic air over our friends in Toronto and then shoot it across the lake. This in turn brings moisture from this great lake up into the air and then when the cold air hit land, the water falls in the form of snow. Lots of snow.

It has been this way for hundreds, if not thousands of years, ever since Someone decided that the lake would be great. I have been witness to such an event for 40 winters now. This year it seems like it’s an entirely new phenomenon for some bizarre reason and quite frankly this new attitude is baffling me.

Back in my day (did I really just say that?) it was a rare event for school to close. I grew up in the Lake Ontario Snow Belt, a region known to get the most snow east of the Mississippi (crooked letter, crooked letter). Just like the school districts of today, we were alloted five snow days to last the entire winter. If we used any more than five, they either added more days to the end of the school year or they took some vacation days away from spring break. I can count maybe one or two years where we used more than five snow days during a given winter. During those two years we ended losing a superintendent’s day to make up the difference. I remember getting out of school early on several occasions; those days didn’t count against our snow days. We would always pay close attention to the smells wafting from the cafeteria area. If we couldn’t smell lunch, we were getting out early.

I remember only two occasions where we were snowed into school and didn’t get out until later than usual in the afternoon. That was during the winter of ’77. We had an extra snack of peanut butter and jelly in the cafeteria. I was excited because I saw what the clocks looked like beyond 3:30.

This week is Regents week in the New York State school system. The Regents Exam are a set of standardised test that are required for high school graduation. The same test is administered at the same time across the state. The Regents are a really big deal. Because of the standardisation of the exam, if the test is not given at the right time, it’s not given at all. There are no make ups, if you miss it you wait until the next round. In this case, it’s June.

Many school districts canceled classes today, including Regents exams. The roads were dusted with snow this morning. I took my time and had no problem getting to work. As of this writing, we have received less than a foot of snow. Much of the snow came late this afternoon and this evening. The roads are a bit slick, but if you leave out the crazy hysteria that now grips society whenever the skies are less than sunny and 70 and pay attention to what you’re doing, one is able to get about the area just like we did 20 or 30 years ago when we had technologically inferior cars with rear wheel drive and much more snow on the ground.

I am trying to decide if it’s the constant screams of “Winter Storm Warnings” from the National Weather Service whenever more than six or eight inches of snow is predicted or if it’s the “we are in for a big one, news at 11!” dire warnings from the less than adequate television stations that is scaring the hell out of society. Maybe it’s the litigious nature of society today and every school district is terrified of being sued by a greedy set of parents. Or could it be that union’s are putting undue pressure on administration to make their jobs as easy as possible?

Whatever the reason for the hysteria we now face whenever there are more than 40 snow flakes in the air at once, quite frankly I am sick and tired of it. I will trudge on with confidence in my driving abilities and live life as it was meant to be lived downwind from a great lake. I’ll be annoyed and angry but I’ll deal.

And I’ll spin a tale from the good old days for those that’ll listen.

I found this on another blog and couldn’t help but agree with it completely. I find this to be an accurate depiction of how society has changed over the past 50 years. I shudder to think what it’ll be like in the year 2057.

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SCHOOL — 1957 vs. 2007
Scenario:
Jack goes quail hunting before school, pulls into school parking lot with shotgun in gun rack.
1957 – Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack’s shotgun, goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.
2007 – School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers.

Scenario:
Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.
1957 – Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.
2007 – Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark. Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.

Scenario:
Jeffrey won’t be still in class, disrupts other students.
1957 – Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the Principal. Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.
2007 – Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. Tested for ADD. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a disability.

Scenario:
Billy breaks a window in his neighbor’s car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.
1957 – Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.
2007 – Billy’s dad is arrested for child abuse. Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang. State psychologist tells Billy’s sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison. Billy’s mom has affair with psychologist.

Scenario:
Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.
1957 – Mark shares aspirin with Principal out on the smoking dock.
2007 – Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons.

Scenario:
Pedro fails high school English.
1957 – Pedro goes to summer school, passes English and goes to college.
2007 – Pedro’s cause is taken up by state. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedro’s English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro ends up a drop out because he cannot speak English.

Scenario:
Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red ant bed.
1957 – Ants die.
2007- BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated, Johnny’s Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.

Scenario:
Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary hugs him to comfort him.
1957 – In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2007 -Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.

Today is World AIDS Day.

Since I came out during the relatively early days of this epidemic (the “AIDS scare” as it was called back then) I have lived with the existence of this disease all of my adult life. I have watched people that I love die of the disease. There are people that I love that are HIV+.

Back in 1986 I must have been a very naive boy, because I really thought they would have a cure by now. I really wish they would prove me right.

While folding laundry and watching “I Love Lucy” last week I noticed a bunch of new ads promoting sweetsurprise.com, the Corn Growers Association (or whatever they’re called) touting the benefits of High Fructose Corn Syrup.

I almost smashed out the television set.

The ads tell us that when used in moderation, just like sugar, it isn’t so bad for you after all. Here’s the deal with high fructose corn syrup:

1. It is digested in a completely different way than regular white sugar. It goes straight for the liver and then releases enzymes that tells the body to store fat. This in turn may elevate triglycerides, which increases cholesterol levels.

2. It is an artificial product derived from transforming corn starch into a thick, clear liquid.

3. Since the introduction of high fructose corn syrup, the average weight of Americans has increased considerably. Type 2 diabetes is running rampant and for the first time in history, this generation’s life expectancy is lower than their parents.

One of the “benefits” of high fructose corn syrup is that it has a really long shelf life. I have remarked before that something seems amiss when bread doesn’t go bad for a month when it used to last only a week or two. If it doesn’t go bad, it can’t be good, because it’s pumped full of way too many chemicals!

When an organisation has to run ads to tell you why you should consume a product that is getting a lot of bad press then red flags should go up in your head. High fructose corn syrup is found in everything these days. Read your labels. It’s even in ketchup and tomato sauce. Notice the correlation between the introduction of the stuff and the obesity epidemic. The use of high fructose corn syrup is cheap which in turn allows food manufacturers to make larger portions for less.

Don’t blindly follow the ads on television. Take a moment to read your labels and do your research.

And I’ll refrain from kicking in the television set.

I also believe that “New Coke” was introduced to distract us from the conversion of cane sugar to high fructose corn syrup in the original/”Classic Coke”. “New Coke” was never meant to fly, it was a deterrent. Ask any Coca-Cola fan from the era, Classic Coke was not the same as the original Coca-Cola. High fructose corn syrup.

I am going to use very strong language in this post. If this offends you, please feel free to disembark this ride and find the bumper boats or something instead.

Earl and I went to one of our local haunts for supper tonight, where we couldn’t help but overhear a tirade of someone sitting close by. He was obviously upset about the results of the presidential election and he was sharing his dismay with the others in his party. To this man I say: Shut The Fuck Up. Just Shut Up. You have a right to free speech and you have the right to think what you think but my God, to hear you say that the only reason President-Elect Obama won was because “those blacks” were bullying “all the blacks” to vote for him on Tuesday is absolutely ludicrous. Here’s the thing. On Tuesday, like many, many, many of my fellow Americans, I voted for the candidate that I thought could handle the task of reuniting and rebuilding out country. I didn’t care if he was black, white, green, blue or chartreuse. I am sure that there are many that voted for our President because of his race and if that’s their choice then so be it. By my God, if you truly cared about your country, if you truly cared about the world, then you would just Shut The Fuck Up and support the new administration. If he starts to fail us, then you can open your trap again. Until then, sit down, eat your supper and think happy thoughts.

And while I’m ranting, to all the people that think that “Pro Choice” is the same as “Pro Abortion”, why don’t you Shut The Fuck Up as well. I am sick and tired of you walking back and forth in front of the local Planned Parenthood intimidating the hell out of the scared people that are trying to visit the clinic in an attempt to get a foothold on their life. I am pretty sure there are not a lot of people out there who exclaim “Oh, I’m pregnant now I can get an abortion! Whoo hoo!” A woman’s right to say what can or can not happen to her own body does not mean that she wants to run out an get an abortion. And while you’re at it, after you Shut The Fuck Up you can take the horrific posters down that terrorize the street passing in front of Planned Parenthood. I don’t care if you’re old, young, male, female, a priest, a nun or a bag lady – if you want to take the rights away from people to suit your own cause then just Shut The Fuck Up until someone asks for your opinion. And why is it that you “Pro Life” people are usually in favor of the death penalty? Do you enjoy celebrating contradiction?

You know what else? For all you people in California, Arizona and Florida that voted to amend your constitution to define marriage to be exclusively between a man and a woman, here’s the thing: you need to Shut The Fuck Up. I believe the founding fathers set up this whole United States thing so there would be NO mingling between church and state. If a CHURCH does not want to marry two men or two women then so be it. That’s your choice. But here we are again with the whole “let’s take their rights away” concept. If you voted “yes” on these amendments then I see you as uneducated, scared sheeple that are doing their best to impose your beliefs on everyone. Taking away my legal right to marry my partner is not going to make me go away, and I can tell you that you’re not going to make the other millions of gay men and lesbians go away either. You’re going to make us louder and madder and more determined than ever to gain the legal right to marry the person we love. So until someone asks for your opinion, just Shut The Fuck Up. If anyone, and I mean ANYONE ever tried to stop me from visiting Earl in a hospital or any other time of need because we aren’t legally married then the only way to stop me is to kill me. I will smash and trash everything in sight and make my way to my partner’s bedside if it is the last thing that I do. So you can just Shut The Fuck Up and save us all the hassle.

And to the woman on the tinny AM radio who was going on and on about how this was a dark time in the United States because of the election on Tuesday, you can Shut The Fuck Up too. It wasn’t that long ago that you were bare-footed, pregnant and had no means of making your voice heard or your vote count. It is the liberal, progressive thinkers that got your ass out of the kitchen a century or so ago so just thank your lucky red, white and blue that you’re seen as an equal in our country and not stowed away wearing pearls and making cookies all day.

Thank you for your attention.

I would like to take a moment to thank the driver of the rusty Chevy Lumina, New York tags # EKP-4405. In the moments that were flashing before my eyes earlier this evening, you gave me a great sense of enlightenment and realisation.

Yes, thank you driver of the rusty Chevy Lumina, New York tags # EKP-4405 for reversing my beliefs and proving that New York, The Empire State, really does need to become a nanny state to protect us from ourselves and remove us from all responsibility of common sense. Thank you for proving that we need seat belt laws (you weren’t wearing one) and prohibitions against driving while talking on our cell phone (which you were doing).

Thank you, driver of the rusty Chevy Lumina, New York tags # EKP-4405 for allowing me to prove to myself that I am an excellent cyclist. As I made my way down the hill at 33 MPH with all the other vehicles (cars, trucks and one cyclist) lined up in a row coming down the street, you reminded me that as a cyclist, which by the way is a vehicle on the road that wasn’t burning fuel other than the afterglow of today’s lunch, I am not entitled to be a vehicle on the road. As you smoked your cigarette, talked on your cell phone and as your poodle sat on the dash and your ugly mouth breathing daughter looked at me, you ignored my screams and pulled out in front of me as you tried to beat the car coming in the opposite direction. Because of you, I proved to myself that I am nearly invincible as I took my fluorescent clad body and bicycle, at 33 MPH, and made a mad dash of a detour across the lawn surrounding yet another Rite Aid drug store, through some barely manicured bushes, over a storm grate and back on to the road, where I took my place back in line behind you.

Thank you, driver of the rusty Chevy Lumina, New York tags # EKP-4405 for cementing my belief that our country is slowly evolving from the “land of the free” to the “land of the fucked up” as we make our way toward the plot outlined in the movie Idiocracy.

Thank you, driver of the rusty Chevy Lumina, New York tags # EKP-4405 for making me terrified of the latest round of “Who Wants To Be A President?”, currently scheduled for the first Tuesday in November (check your local listings for last minute changes), for it is people like you and your ugly mouth breathing daughter than make me realise that mediocrity is now the standard to which we base all accepted forms of accomplishment and pride.

And thank you, driver of the rusty Chevy Lumina, New York tags # EKP-4405 for glancing around the smoke belching from your face and looking at me in your rearview mirror and then putting your windows up, whilst telling your ugly mouth breathing daughter to do the same to the back windows, because had you not done that, I might have done something that I just might regret.

¹ I can make fun of mouth breathers because I used to be one myself when I was a young kid.
² I am terrified of the fact that the U.S. is truly headed to the scenario painted in that movie “Idiocracy”.

As God as my witness I hereby declare to all the care: No more cheese for me. None. Do not feed me cheese.

I do not cherish sitting in the bathroom for a good chunk of my lunch hour. I’ll refrain from further description.

That is all.

I own an iPhone. I use it a lot. I don’t talk on it so much, rather, I update my Twitter and check my e-mail and chat with various people through the built in chat mechanisms. I try not to be obnoxious with my phone, but I admit that I can be from time to time. I usually get a “look” from Earl when I get that way. I have important things to say to important people.

Anyways, I find people yakking on their cell phone in public spaces to be obnoxious. Where is it written that people should carry on mundane, ordinary conversations whilst standing in the middle of a restaurant? I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a cell phone for a really long time or what, but I always thought that a cell phone was for important, earth-shattering conversations. “My wig is on fire.” “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” “I’ve ran the car out of oil and it isn’t moving now.”

“What are you doing?” in a monotone, uninterested voice is not a conversation to have on your cell phone while standing in the middle of Wendy’s, balancing a Big Gulp on a tray loaded with fat with a newspaper wedged under your smelly armpit. I resisted the urge to bump into the tray by mistake. I would have forgiven her if her wig was on fire.

While Earl and I were enjoying our quick lunch at said Wendy’s today, I noticed that there were 11 people talking on their phone out of the 30 or so in the restaurant. Three of them were at the same table. I envisioned them in a conference call with one another.

I tried calling my friend Greg the other day at lunch time. The call went to his voice mail. A little while later I got via text, “I couldn’t talk, I was in a restaurant.” Now that is the type of response that I would expect. I’m glad he didn’t yak at me with his mouth full. That would be improper.

So the next time you see me in a restaurant and I happen to be talking on my phone, slap it right out of my hand and declare “Practice what you preach.”

Unless my wig is on fire.