A Very Strange Election aka Swann's Song

I was watching the news tonight and they had a story about how the race for Lt. Governor here in Alabama was now embroiled in controversy. It seems Republican Luther Strange's election campaign ad being shown on television mocking Democrat Jim Folsom, Jr., was undoubtedly a complete and utter rip-off of another one which is simultaneously airing...in Pennsylvania, for gubernatorial candidate, Lynn Swann (R). The ads depict both Folsom's and Ed Rendell's (Swann's opponent) careers throughout the last three decades (portrayed by an actor prancing around in disco duds, jogging suit, and Miami Vice-alike attire) and alleges such things as Folsom putting his family and cronies on the state payroll and Rendell never owning up to his "reform" promises.

Just some comments here that I'd like to make, altho I'm not at all usually political by nature...

It's an AD...get over it...it's not the first time someone is going to steal, borrow, or otherwise engage in a form of this...dare I say "plagiarism"...period. It happens in television...heaven knows if only one person could have kept the idea of a "reality show" to themselves, we wouldn't be in the predicament we are nowadays. How many times is the "two buddies and a girl" situation comedy going to happen? How about a "life at home" scenario? Or one about writers who work on a comedy show? Ooops...sorry, we can't do that, they had "The Dick Van Dyke Show" years ago. "Lost"? Sounds too much like "'Gilligan's Island' revamped for the 00's" to me. Something with a lawyer? Sorry...no can do. Forget doing anything CSI-ish as there was a show on The Discovery Channel called "The New Detectives: Case Studies in Forensic Science". Oh, but you say that one was real? How about that show back in the 70s with Jack Klugman modeled after real-life Medical Examiner, Dr. Thomas Noguchi. Oh...wait...do we see a pattern here? Most ideas are rehashed...political commercials are no exception. Granted it is an awfully irritating ad to watch...and it's pretty much the same as the Lynn Swann one...but if the first person to do political mud-slinging ads had the patent on it...well, we wouldn't be talking about this right now...and no one else would be either.

Oversight or brilliant campaign strategy? Now from what I've gathered, the same Washington, DC firm to do the Folsom ad was also the one behind the Swann ad. Either they really put one over on both candidates or this is some form of genius. Face it...what sticks better in the minds of the collective consciousness than controversy? Is this really going to plague the Strange campaign? The most you can determine from all of this is that their spin doctors are now engaged in counter-control and they were stupid in not determining that this ad was already out there in some shape or form. Did Strange know about it? Well, he's a politician...he'll answer that by avoiding it...and why even BOTHER to answer it? Does this have any bearing on the platform he's running on? Let's see...it's going to be like those Teen Beat magazines..."Uh, Mr. Strange...what colour do you like best? What did you eat for dinner last night? What do you look for in a girl (oh, wait...that's a question for Clinton...ba-da-bing)...Did you purposely know that there was a gubernatorial candidate/ex-football player running the same annoying disco ad as you? And, by the way, what's your fav disco song?"

So, I say this really is a reality show of its own...and further testament to the dumbing-down of our society as a whole. Do we really want to base our political decisions...waste our precious votes...and further degrade ourselves in the process by letting THIS "issue" be a militating factor this time around...and then surely in the future?

I don't know about you...but I vote "No".

Some Alarming Facts aka Dauphin Island 3

A little back-history for the moment...not recapping my last blog, but about Dauphin Island itself which I found interesting. It wasn't named for dolphins per se, although by the way people pronounce it, you'd certainly think it was. Just like people pronouncing "croissant" the way most people in America do...I have an issue (which has been handed down to me from my mother who was born in Belgium) about pronouncing French words...well...the French way. But I am getting a little ahead of myself...

...the island was originally mapped in fantastic detail by Spanish explorer, Alonzo Pineda, the first European in documented history to visit it in 1519. In 1699, French explorer, Pierre Le Moyne d'Iberville renamed it...quite appropriately..."Isle de Massacre" based on the fact there were human bones heaped up in piles lying around. This "officially" kicked off the island's French history and colonization along that area...but being named "Massacre Island" seemed a tad too icky and didn't sit well with the locals...and in 1707 was changed to "Dauphin Island" to honour their then heir to the French throne, "the Dauphin". Ironically, the Dauphin used a coat of arms with dolphins on them, hence his nickname "le Dauphin" meaning of course, "the Dolphin". Over the next 100 or so years, Dauphin Island's "ownership" (via lots more piles of bones I'm sure) changed from France to Great Britain and then in 1780, to Spain. Finally, in 1813 the United States seized the territory around Mobile Bay, encompassing the island as well...and now we have it - and there you have it...a little history about an island you possibly haven't ever visited...and some have never heard of. But something you might have heard of...the quote "Damn the torpedoes...full speed ahead". Well, Admiral David Farragut uttered that phrase just a few hundred yards away from Dauphin Island, which is home to Fort Gaines, built between 1821-1848 and subsequently occupied by the Confederate forces in 1861 until being captured by Federal troops during the Battle of Mobile Bay. This battle was also Farragut's last hurrah...after which he retired upon returning home to New York in 1864...dying only a few years later in 1870.

So we have now come full circle as to why you see symbols of dolphins all over the place there and not some rich dead French dude. As far as the pronunciation...well I'll still pronounce it the way I want to until they change the spelling. And speaking of spelling, nothing makes a bus load of little kids go "Ooooooooooooooh they are showing a bad word" more than a big brick wall outside of Fort Gaines with the word "Damn" on it. Good thing this wasn't a trip to New York City or Los Angeles. And speaking of trips...back to my trip story.

My daughter's teacher (and one of the Science Olympiad coaches) was nice enough to let me follow him on the way up to Dauphin Island (and this guy followed behind me)...and we were all ready to do it on the way back...but her teacher first wanted to stop at this quaint little sandwich shop on the island to get a sandwich instead of eating at a fast food place, which, of course, all the kids wanted to go...so our plan was to get our food there and then consume it at the place we ended up going for the kids. So...off we go and get our sandwiches and then I proceed to open my car door and I set off the alarm...something I've never ever ever done before...and my auto-door-alarm doohickey just broke the week prior...as luck would have it...and I couldn't "disarm" it. So...this was so incredibly prescient, as right before we left I checked the owner's manual to find out what to do in case I set it off...I kid you not. AND, true to Murphy's Law...what they recommended...or at least what I remembered reading...failed to do anything except let the exceedingly loud alarm continue within feet of this little place with old ladies on the porch sipping tea. This alarm, by the way, turns itself off in three minutes. Three minutes, which seem like 15 when you are the loudest thing on the island, unless you count the cannon they fire at Fort Gaines (yes, they do and yes, it is pretty insanely loud). So, we...the teacher...the other guy...and me (and all our passengers) sit around waiting for the time for the alarm to go off since it didn't cut off as the manual said...and yes, I did dig it out after the first few seconds and recheck...and yes, I did as it said all along.

And after I try to start the car, about five times unsuccessfully...since the engine cuts off when the alarm goes off...I figure...well, this is totally unsuccessful...and start doing all manner of other things to get the darned thing to stop the alarm and allow me to start my car and go on about my merry way...none of which work...I am forced to (well, it was easier to get my husband, Doug, to do it as he knows the people at the dealership) call my husband. Meanwhile, since Doug never answers his phone when he sees it is me calling...the guy (whose name from the other point on until the end of this story will be known as "the guy") starts suggesting we yank fuses out to disengage the system and try to bypass it. I am thinking "oh, I bet that would really make the system mad and it would probably not work again until some Dodge guy came over and keyed some 'magic Dodge combination' to get it to ever start again". Luckily he listened to me and didn't have the faith in his own mechanical know-how to even attempt to open the trunk without a diagram.

Doug finally answers the phone and he agrees to call the Dodge people to see what I'm supposed to do...after telling me that I should probably do what the manual tells me...like I haven't the brain-power (and apparently the teacher or the guy hasn't either) to have thought of that on my own by then. After another 10 minutes, and a couple more three-minute interludes of alarm mishaps (yes, I'm still trying to get the stupid car to do as the manual suggests)...he calls back and tells me that I should do what I've been trying all along...which doesn't work. And if that doesn't work to go and lock and unlock the door then start up the car. Well, locking and unlocking the car turns off the alarm...but lo and behold...doesn't allow you start the car...which, by the way...you guessed it...sets the alarm off again in the process of turning the ignition switch. So...I get a revelation: Get one of the kids to unlock the door from the inside after I relock it...figuring that someone has to be INSIDE the car and thus might bypass the whole stupidness. Well...that doesn't work worth a damn (in the torpedo sense because I'd like to start going "full speed ahead") as the alarm sets itself off and the car automatically shuts itself off again when I try to start it. So, I'm about to resort to Plan B...which is to systematically do the lock/unlock to each of the doors and then the trunk...when I say "oh let me try this a couple more times on the driver's door...when it finally figures out I must have the key and if I have the key...I MUST have the key...and duh...I should therefore be able to use said key to start my car and leave whatever place I've already disrupted for the last 30 minutes. Which I did. Luckily I will probably never see these people again as long as I live because I am probably now going to be front-page news in "The Dauphin Gazette" or something with the word "IDIOT" plastered next to it with a nice cell-phone photo of us all standing around looking totally dumbfounded like none of us could figure out that all we had to do was press the "Panic" button to turn off the alarm (they'd never figure out it wasn't working after all).

Anyway, needless to say, when we finally arrived to the fast-food place I was more than reluctant to lock my car...but I mustered up the courage to do it anyway...and was exceedingly proud of myself to not set it off when the time came for us to leave. The simple things in life...for the simple...I guess.

And needless to say we all arrived much later than our rendezvous time of 4:30 at the school.

But it could have been worse...much worse. I could have been on Dauphin Island until the following Monday waiting for some guy (not to be confused with "the guy") from Mobile to get the part from Detroit to work on a 1996 Dodge Grand Caravan.

Lastly...and ironically, the sandwich I purchased from the quaint little restaurant...was on a croissant.

Sea Hunt at Sea Lab

Last time around I left you waiting in line...so I think we will move ahead now. I had no doubt in my mind that Dauphin Island's Sea Lab food would be terrible and that the atmosphere would be rather the same as when I went to Space Camp...which, in a nutshell, was as soon as I sat down to eat, literally, we had to get up and move on to our next event. I wasn't going to be a happy camper...I just knew it.

One of the kids pointed out the sign right over the trays which said we could return in line and get seconds. Things were looking up...as I was assured that I would indeed choose the ickiest thing on the menu the first time around and be forced to eat it or go without...at least I'd now be able to get a second try. But wait...this food actually looks edible. And the servers...so incredibly nice...I guess I should have suspected something was amiss with the little hand-made "thank you, lunch ladies" cards taped on the fridge behind them. So, I told the woman what I wanted and scurried off to my table...my table which was clean...and so was my silverware. So, I bit into my chosen fare...a chicken sandwich and french fries...and altho salty...they were quite edible. They also had a massive salad bar - but right after that spinach scare...I'm not biting into anything leafy lately (speaking of which they just recalled some lettuce today)...so I passed on that...and actually too bad, too...because it did look quite tasty...but hanging out in a communal bathroom isn't an idea...or reality...I wanted to entertain. We also had plenty of time to eat our food and drink our drinks before we moved on to our scheduled event.

Enter Hazel Wilson, our designated marine educator guide, who proceeded to show us, via school bus, the devastation on the island that Hurricane Katrina exacted on it. You could see quite a few houses which have not been torn down...houses which were left standing...like a Hollywood set...with the exterior wall removed...and we were the eye of the camera which panned from one room (still appointed with furniture) to the next. In a way I felt like a voyeur...peering into these houses from the safety of a bus...knowing I was only invited in by something evil and malevolent. Other houses, their bodies long removed...the only remaining proof they once stood there being their "legs"...the pilings still sticking in the sand like toys left by toddlers in a gigantic sandbox. Then we went pretty much as far as we could since the island was cleaved in two...a mile-wide canal now where land used to be..."thanks" to Katrina...showing us yet again the power of the forces of nature in action.

On now to more fun events...Ms. Wilson led us down to the beach and encouraged the kids to pick up hermit crabs and dead things. It was getting interesting now. Then on the bus as we didn't want to delay mucking through the marsh...that's why we had to bring shoes we didn't mind messing up or losing. Oh, the kids found all sorts of things from snails to crabs to shrimp...and mud. Lots of mud. But it was okay as we were going to wash it all off in the Mississippi Sound picking more living and dead things up anyway. We were given hand-held nets and buckets...and even seine nets to drag around scooping up even more unsuspecting things. This was far from a boring, run-of-the mill trip staring at things while the guide spoke...this was not only educational but enjoyable for both children and adults...and Ms. Wilson was exceptional.

Fast-forward to dinner...which again was better than I expected...and the dinner crew was as friendly as the lunch people were. These people all had their act together...maybe it was the Gulf air or the area in general...but whoever is in charge of this operation certainly should be running the country. Next on the plate...not the dinner one...but the scheduled events...was a night-time walk on the beach finding and subsequently catching ghost crabs by flashlight...and we didn't lose a single kid. I guess I've seen "Jaws" a few too many times in my life...but even without the shark, the dangerous undertow, the Gulf, and a bunch of kids all running around in the dark didn't seem like a good combination - but luckily the kids were good.

Bedtime came earlier than usual for me...and so did the start of the next day...and I wasn't looking forward to either, but the kids quieted down quickly...I'm sure they were quite worn out from the events of the day. Even the boys stopped running around upstairs and I think even without the aid of Ambien I might have been able to sleep through the night...had the night lingered on until 3:00 a.m...but as it were, I, too, had an early start and a long day of foraging for more sea-things the next day. This place was no place like home...but it wasn't like my previous overnight trip either. It was remarkably quiet. Perhaps being on the far end helped, but no doors clanked...no people screamed in the hallway...and best of all, I didn't have to share my room with a bunch of others who got up every hour on the hour for one reason or another. I slept.

The following day started out with an early breakfast...again edible served with the same graciousness as the previous meals. Ms. Wilson, to my delight, was again our guide and this time we'd be tasked with going out and catching things from two different waterways to take back to the classroom to view under microscopes. We also had plankton "races"...using wire and Styrofoam each table had to construct a "plankton"...and the slowest one to sink to the bottom of the jar of water was going to be declared the winner. I was at a table of all parents...and my ingenious plankton design coupled with the Styrofoam bits added on by another parent was destined to be the sure winner...ours drifted down so incredibly slowly...ONCE. Each subsequent try hardly matched that one magnificent time...and we were beaten by our own kids...how humiliating is that? But I guess if you have to lose to someone - it might as well be your own. But still...and I still resent one of the chaperones, who happened to be the older brother of one of the students...telling us "old people" that our "sea-based" name for our table should be "The Ancient Mariners"...okay, it was extremely funny - I'm just annoyed by the fact I didn't think of it myself. We went with "Exoskeletons"...hey...we were a bunch of old skeletons after all...I admit not nearly as good...but then again, unfortunately, neither was our little plankton display.

Our last scheduled stop before we left was to check out the Estuarium only a short walk away...which was chock full of all types of Alabama marine life...rather like a mini-aquarium, but done nicely nonetheless. They even had a display of dead things we could touch and another with live horseshoe crabs...kind of like what we experienced before only this time we didn't have to run off into the water to retrieve them. Pity. As what we'd done up until that point had all been extremely enjoyable...made even more enjoyable by the staff and the "edutainment" factor of Hazel Wilson. I was sure going to miss this place once we left...but as you shall read in my next blog installment of this story...well, I'll just leave it at that for now.

Bloggus Interruptus

Well, I was going to continue my story the other day, but my daughter started running a high fever and has been out of school...and then again, because I am sharing a computer with my son...by the time I finally had my hands on it I wasn't in the mood to finish it. She's going to be out of school for at least one more day here...so I am going to try my best to write Part 2 of my blogstory either later tonite or sometime tomorrow.

What a Long Strange Trip It's Going to Be

Going on your child's field trip isn't always fun. Personally, I am not into trying to corral five kids whilst traipsing around Fort Toulouse with 25 other school bus-loads of kids there at the same time. Yes, I DO watch the children in my charge...but it's not exactly a piece of cake with 14 activities going on and them all thinking they can each go their separate ways...nuh uh, girlfriend...not on my watch. And staying overnight at a trip? Don't even get me started...I have two words that changed my outlook on that: "Space Camp". And didn't change it for the better. So, you can bet I was reluctant when I heard we were doing it again...only this time at Dauphin Island's Sea Lab.

First off, picking up sea-life from the Gulf of Mexico and mucking around in the mud finding things that only an estuary can hold was pretty darned intriguing to me. A nighttime walk on the beach to "hunt" for ghost crabs...well that sounds like fun...and so does looking at minute squirmy things we just plucked from the water under microscopes...so I actually was looking forward to this trip. Driving the 3 1/2 hours with three other children besides my own and staying overnight with public restrooms and showers...well THAT I wasn't. Keep in mind I did stay two whole nights at Space Camp in Huntsville...sleeping six to a room in bunkbeds...lights literally turned out on you at 9:30ish to be turned back on for you at around 5:30ish. This was a "joy" I didn't soon want to relive. But things started to look a little up when they said we'd be staying at the dorms and they sleep two to a room. Now when they said we were going to sleep on "cots"...that kinda didn't sound too appealing, but this was only for one night. I think I'd be able to rough it.

Meeting up at the school at 7:15 isn't exactly a night-owl's dream...and then imagining "can you PLEASE stop singing that same song over and over and over...and by the way, stop kicking my seat" for 3 1/2 hours wasn't exactly helping. But I made it up there, packed up the van, and proceeded to head out for our destination to arrive sometime around 11:30 just in time for "lunch". Oh...lunch..."yummy"...visions of a previous trip's version of "food" dancing in my brain like so many rancid sugarplums.

But, wait...these kids were pretty good...in fact they were excellent. No "I have to go to the bathroom, Mrs. Simms"..."Why didn't you go the last exit when we stopped?"..."I didn't have to go then." antics...no "A million bottles of..." song to drive me completely insane...and apart from my coaxing to get them to stop that one game they were doing and try this other one I made up instead...it was ideal. In fact the worst part of it was thinking that the rest stop I was supposed to meet up with the teacher wasn't the right rest stop and maybe we are hanging around and they are hanging around...15 miles apart. But they finally showed up...so our worries about that were all for naught.

So we made it there...unloaded the van and dropped our stuff off in our room...which, by the way, to my delight, didn't have measly cots but actual "mattressed" beds. The showers had individual little stalls AND curtains...Space Camp didn't. As a plus the bathroom was next to our room and didn't have a clanking door and you couldn't hear anything really thru the wall. The only discernible noise were the boys who occupied the upper level of the dorm and the fact that boys must run wherever they go...and apparently the average 11-year-old boy's weight while in run-mode is comparable to that of a full-grown elephant. And speaking of elephants...it was time to herd up outside the dorm and go grazing at the cafeteria...with no doubt in my mind this shall be about as tasty as an elephant's hide...

...but enough for now...I am going to play Scheherazade and continue this blog tomorrow.

History-onics

And "the rest" as they say "is history"...

I was talking today, ironically, to someone who edits textbooks. Ironically, I say, because although I've talked to this man on several occasions, this is the first time we've really spoken in-depth and after voicing a few of my opinions about teaching and teachers...found out what his present vocation is.

He started by asking me if I ever watched a certain show on HBO...and I remarked that mainly I watch AMC, TCM and The History Channel. The latter being the last bastion of documentary television since TLC and Discovery have, unfortunately, segued into the realm of reality TV. Then from there I got on the topic of how I probably never would have been interested in history at all without the intervention and innovation of my 8th grade History teacher, Phil Marder. Mr. Marder...if you are out there...and I Googled you the other day and couldn't find anything on you...I would like to take this opportunity to say "thank you...you made History...one of the most misunderstood and maligned of subjects...interesting".

Oh...sure, we all cringed and thought he was corny with his "Where are you heading? Bering Strait." and "Sideburns...Burnside" remarks...and countless others of that ilk...but to this day I still remember their significance. I also remember the films he used to "sneak in"...oh, he'd be fired in a heartbeat if he showed them today. Let's say they were less than acceptable, by today's standards...films he "procured" by, as he always asserted, by a friend who worked at Washington DC's National Archives Building...excerpts I don't think they'd even dare show on The History Channel. Graphic footage of mutilated Mussolini and his mistress, the Holocaust, and more were shown to us...and to the best of my knowledge, since they continued...and he continued teaching...no one complained. We were appalled...but morbidly, like that horrific roadside accident we've all passed, we crooked our collective necks and watched. And because of a grisly fascination and roll-your-eyes "Welcome Back, Kotter" approach...history became something not just to read in some boring old book...but something tangible that everyone experiences at one time or another.

I've had only one other teacher who actually truly influenced and inspired me...my High School English teacher, Tom Bauer. But for now I'll leave the writing of my past and the writing of my present to the future...and talk about him and how one teacher can make a difference...in a subsequent blog.

Nobody's Fault But My Own

I don't know if anyone has ever noticed but I typically post these blogs quite late...as that's usually when I'm writing them. You can say I do my "best" work at night...or at least I think so. Well, I was indeed thinking so last night...but this might not necessarily be the case. Case in point:

What I usually do is think of some ideas I could use for blogs...then I sit on them as I think of something else to write instead. Just the other night I was sitting around and thinking..."ya know, I bet people don't even know there is a fault line nearly outside our door...and those people further north probably never think of the New Madrid Fault Line". I remember watching a program on television years ago which talked about how we here are "due for one". I thought of all this and sent the idea to my friend on the 5th of September...and then sat on it. Oh sure, I gathered up the geologic info on earthquakes and on fault lines and such...but I didn't do anything...blogwise. And then what happens? A 6.0 earthquake in the Gulf of Mexico on the 11th. How timely would that have been? Well...at least there is one person out there who believes me when I say this.

So, what does all this have to do with thinking I do my best work at night? Hang in there...I shall try to illuminate you.

I grew up in New Jersey as many of you are aware if you've read my blogs...and I also have trouble sleeping...a fact I've also mentioned. So, last night I take half an Ambien and then decide to forage thru some of my blog ideas I've sent myself and pull one out and work on it. One I've been meaning to do is about prescription drugs and how drug companies are supposedly trying to make them affordable to the elderly and lower income bracket people...especially those with children.

"What does all this have to do with New Jersey? And really...what does it have to do with you thinking you do your best work at night??" Those are the two questions that are probably still sticking out as unanswered to you at this point...but please don't give up yet...there's a method to my madness.

Growing up 45 minutes from Philadelphia meant we received the Philadelphia news channels, and one year one of them started doing this "experiment" which was really fun and enlightening to watch. With the aid of the local police department the news team would, one by one...and literally "one by one"...get behind the wheel of a car on a closed test track and go all around the little orange cones like you've seen done in those car commercials...darting in between them and on a curve...being careful, of course, not to smash into any or knock them down. "Pretty easy" you say, huh? Well...have a beer! And another and another! Each time they drank one down they would ask them how they were feeling and if they felt at all impaired. Then they would let them drive around the track. It was actually quite comical after a while...they honestly thought they were fine...that they could literally drive their "best" after a few. Then when they all sobered up...they played the tape back for them and boy were they surprised...cocky attitudes...cones all over the place...and not as many beers tossed back as they'd have imagined.

So...although not nearly as dangerous...but equally as comical I assure you - is my Ambien-taking and blogging, ironic as it may that my intended blog was about prescriptions drugs. As for my self-assuredness? Let's just say it's not very likely that I am ever going to produce the evidence to show you, even if it is, essentially, "on tape" as well.

Don't Abandon All Hope...

Like many of you who watch or read the Montgomery, Alabama news, I was sickened and saddened by the story of a woman who drowned her newborn baby daughter in the toilet tank of a gas station on West Fairview Avenue on the morning of September 1. The surveillance video shows an unidentified woman, who appears to be pregnant, entering the service station and leaving some 40 minutes later.

When I heard this, having two children of my own, I had to think "what kind of monster would do this to a baby...what kind of monster does this to their OWN baby"...but I try not to judge people as I don't know the circumstances which led to the event. But one has to wonder how someone can put their own welfare ahead of their own child's. We've seen the 9/11 tributes the past few days which show how unselfish people can be...putting their own lives on the line for complete strangers...and police and firefighters do this nearly every day of their careers...how can someone not for a completely innocent child?

Yes, the person could have been afraid for their own life...could have been under the influence of drugs...could have been mentally unstable. We won't know until they apprehend and question this woman...but one thing I do know is that they could have taken another course of action. One that perhaps they don't even know exists. I am speaking of the "Baby Moses" or "Safe Haven" laws which many states have adopted whereby a person, usually the parent, can drop off (abandon if you prefer...I prefer "drop off") their child at a designated location, usually a hospital, police station, etc., without criminal investigation...totally without retribution. They can literally walk away...no questions asked. Ever.

That's the second thing which entered my mind when I heard this story...how much differently this ending would have been if only she had gotten back into her car and headed to a hospital. Now not only is an innocent life snuffed out...but her "life" as well. She cannot keep running...someone will find out...maybe not in a week or a month...but eventually. And even if they don't, imagine the inner turmoil of dealing with committing such a heinous act. You might say "well she's a monster...she doesn't have any remorse"...but you cannot be the judge of what a person thinks any more than I can. Please don't get me wrong...I am not at all saying any excuse she gives will be justified...and certainly nothing she or anyone says on her behalf will change the end result.

All I do know is that educating the public, thru Public Service Announcements, billboards, word of mouth, etc., might have prevented this from happening...and might prevent the next one. I don't believe, as some things I've read regarding this "drop off" system stated would lead to countless children being abandoned. I don't think they have the statistics to back that up...and face it, if someone abandons a baby...that child is most probably better off than suffering the consequences had they not. All is not 'Ozzie and Harriet' in this world...we need to educate people in that respect as well...as I believe all too well people don't necessarily turn a blind eye to the bad things...but they just don't know.

Knowing things is the key...and that key can unlock so many life-changing possibilities...but it cannot happen without someone teaching us...and I think we can all benefit from learning something...and from teaching others.

A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

Will someone please tell Hollywood they can stop already with the "shaky-camera technique"...I tuned in to watch this (probably) horribly bogus show on Sci-Fi Channel tonite...altho I completely forgot about it, and only caught the last 20 minutes. It was this film with Lance Henriksen (of Aliens and MillenniuM fame) - something about Sasquatch. Then I changed the channel to this movie called "Primer"...granted it was made in 2004...but it is replete with the "shaking"...every single frame.

Anyway, not only did they (the Sasquatch film) have the annoying "must be your first day with the studio camera" thing going on...they also had this eye-strain-inducing severe colour contrast thing happening...where it was totally too intense in the white/black realm to watch comfortably. Hopefully this will not be a mainstream manifestation...and this begs the question..."what is next"...perhaps that horizontal hold from the past brought back?

"And, no...I won't attempt to adjust my picture...I'll just change the channel...like I did watching Sci-Fi tonight."

Something to Whine About

Well, it's been over two months now that I've gone without my computer. Sharing a computer with my two children isn't very much fun...really that's not fair...it's basically just with my son.

I guess in the grand scheme of things that above statement does sound rather ridiculous...most people in this world don't have any computer...let alone one computer to share with their kids, so I guess I shouldn't whine. In general I think Americans whine a lot, so why should I be any different?

So, I guess what I'm trying to convey here is that I haven't had access to a computer whenever I want, so when I want to write a blog or update my humour website, I usually am "computerless". Heaven forbid I do it the "old-fashioned" way and hand-write something out to type up later...I have a standard to live up to...I have to have something to whine about.

Goodbye My "Baby"

Well, I was going to write something yesterday...but someone ran over and killed my cat...he was also dragged about 20-30 feet. Now, we live in a very nice development that doesn't have a lot of traffic...has a road with barely a two-car width...and also has 25 mph posted speed limit signs. But, unfortunately, save for a few people, no one pays much attention to it...I can't begin to tell you how many times I've reported the Wetumpka school bus driver, who I've clocked from my car behind, going faster than 45 down this narrow curving wisp of a road. Just imagine him trying to swerve out of someone's way at that speed with no shoulder and with the "Montgomery overlook" drop-off up fast approaching around the bend. Good luck, especially not wearing any seatbelts...I don't want to see what you or your passengers look like when they finally manage to winch your car/bus from 80 or so feet below.

Anyway...cats aren't stupid - they don't usually go dashing across the street when a car comes...my cat was only two-years-old...a gorgeous Lynx-Point Siamese (named Balthazar...but we called him "Baby")...so I wanted to take this opportunity here in my blog to say "thanks" to the person who apparently couldn't avoid hitting (and subsequently dragging) my cat at about 10:00 yesterday morning in broad daylight with excellent road conditions and equally favourable visibility...and of course I am sure they were indeed following the 25 mph speed limit. Lastly, from the "point of impact"...it seems they did indeed have to swerve...nearly hitting our mailbox...to "avoid" him.

Trivia Pursuit

"Did you know he's 6'5"...supposedly the tallest actor to star in a leading role...and was born in 1922?" "He tries to use a different accent in each of his films." "Oh...she died at age 26, of renal failure, in 1937...the same year the Golden Gate Bridge was opened for traffic...in fact nearly a week apart." What do these things have in common? They are all things that I blurt out for no apparent reason whilst I'm watching a film, talking on the phone, or otherwise engaged in some form of conversation in which I somehow conveniently manage to work them into...yes, I am essentially the bar know-it-all, the Cliff Clavin if you will...of nearly useless information gathered from years of watching films and years of reading the Internet Movie Database (IMDb)...years of watching The History Channel, and years of other things I must have done because it's in there...in my head...for some reason. Sometimes I don't know how it got in there to start with...believe it or not...it baffles even me.

I think it has something to do with being the youngest child of the family. I have a couple much older siblings...who were teenagers by the time I came along. My mother always said that I actually did 'The Twist' before I could stand up unaided...pulling myself up in my crib while watching my brother's and sister's friends 'cut a rug'...literally...I was also told of the many rugs that 'Twisting' wore holes into. So...this unconscious listening to late 50's/early 60's records in my very early youth must have somehow gotten in and stayed there. Sometimes, very late at night, coming back from a trip to Atlanta, I'll put the radio on "auto-scan" and the oldie station will come in and I'll listen. Not "oldies" as in Zeppelin, kids...this is "oldies" as in what oldies actually were when I listened to Zeppelin...yes, I'm afraid to say it's "them oldies". But I know every word practically. How can I know every single word? I never listened to these when I grew up. I grew up, because I also had a sister five years older than me (by this time my brother and sister were out of the picture, i.e., out of the house) listening to secret messages of "Paul is dead" on Beatles records. Yes, I strung my fair share of beads. This was the 60's...I also know the words to all of Donovan's songs, too. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing...I just know they're in there...somewhere...stored in there with Freddy Cannon's "Palisades Park"...and "This Diamond Ring" by Gary Lewis and the Playboys. The fact I also knew this without the aid of "Googling" is even more disturbing to me the more I think of it.

Being the youngest child of the family...you have to grow up faster to gain acceptance I think...and to do this, you have to be able to relate to those around you who are older...therefore you are subjected to things much earlier in life than had you been the first born. So, the youngest child's tiny little infant brain has to make hardwire connections that it normally wouldn't do...and I think that helps in the long run with memorization of things you never realized you had memorized from such an early age. This also helps you remember things without much effort...or perhaps you just have to listen much more intently being the younger child as no one is going to repeat it...to "the baby". Oh, that's my theory and I'm sticking to it...at least it sounds plausible as to how all these songs ended up my in head and stayed there.

Unfortunately, for me, my siblings were not rocket scientists and literary scholars...as, frankly, I'd much rather be able to rattle off complex mathematical equations, Quantum physics principles and quote Keats and Thoreau...more thoroughly than I can remember the fact that Marilyn Monroe was born in 1926 and died in 1962...as the last two numbers are transposed. That's about as mathematical as I get...altho I do know that Marilyn Monroe badly wanted to be in a production of Dostoyevsky's 'The Brothers Karamazov'...sadly, that's about as literary as I get as well...but she also reportedly had sex with Albert Einstein...so I've now nicely linked math, science AND literature in one fell swoop. Let's see your average physicist do THAT!

So, I will have to remain content with the realization that my entire family never wants to play Trivial Pursuit with me...that 'Jeopardy!' comes on some weird time here...if at all...and that one day, probably in the not too distant future, I will have memorized the IMDb in its entirety.

By the way, in case you were wondering, regarding my opening paragraph...in order...I'm referring to Christopher Lee, Gary Oldman and Jean Harlow. Cliff Clavin was, of course, John Ratzenberger's character he played in Cheers...which, upon not doing well trying out for the "Norm" role, supposedly turned on his way out and asked "You guys do have a bar know-it-all, don't you?" They didn't...and he ended up getting a key role he himself created. Not at all bad for an irritating trivia buff.

Our Plutonic Relationship

Well...Pluto has been demoted. No, nothing to do with Walt Disney or Mickey Mouse...the planet...or the "dwarf planet formerly known as a planet" is just too tiny a cosmic speck to be ranked up there according to the International Astronomical Union (IAU). For the next week or so prepare yourself for the onslaught of "planet envy" and obligatory "Uranus thrown in for good measure" jokes.

Now this is nothing new...planetary science has changed their minds lots of times...the Earth is not flat...the sun doesn't revolve around the Earth...Neptune has more moons than originally thought...but this changes everything. The effect is literally of cosmic proportions...Clyde Tombaugh will now be stripped of the honour bestowed upon him in 1930 of discovering the 9th planet...textbooks will have to be rewritten...those $8.99 glow-in-the dark mobiles they sell at all science stores will have to sport "take out the tiny one...no, not that one, that's Mercury...the other tiny one...throw it away" stickers...the very boring guy at the planetarium who's recited the same speech he's memorized and rattled off to visiting 3rd grade school groups since nearly 1930 will have to be "reprogrammed"...or worse...or...uh...maybe better yet - replaced.

But the thing that the IAU failed to take at all into consideration when they voted poor little Pluto off the solar system was the fact that the "My Very Excellent Mother Just Sent Us Nine Pizzas" mnemonic acronym will now have to be totally revamped. Oh...this is not a very simple undertaking whatsoever...just imagine having to erase that "Roy G Biv" thing out of your head...or "Every Good Boy Does Fine"...sure we've all heard the alternate versions, "Deserves Fudge" and "Deserves Favour"...but it's like that "i before e" thing...or the "It's a Small World" song... it's IN there...it cannot be taken out or altered...it's just NOT done...what on EARTH were they thinking there in Prague today?

So, I call upon everyone out there to make up a new "planet order" version and send it to the IAU...well you can send it to me, too...but maybe a flood of emails to this scientific group will get them to rethink their decision...and revote. Come on, it IS a union after all, right...aren't they supposed to deal with changing demands...sometimes even on a universal level?

The DVD Conspiracy

I had a dilemma I faced a while back...if you've kept up with my blogs you're going to hear it again for the benefit of those of you who haven't. The story goes a little like this: I never watched The X-Files when they first came out...by the time I wanted to, too many people were gaga over it and it would seem like I was going along with them all...like I was just another donkey going around in circles turning that millstone. So, I bade my time hearing my friends say they had to be home by whatever time and day it came on so they didn't miss the next episode. One by one my buddy list on my computer would trickle down to just one or two...talk about "spooky".

Years passed...and what I thought was just a passing fancy didn't pass...in fact it attracted even more people to it...it was like a horrible accident...people just had to stop and look. One day I thought I'd find out what all this fervor was about...I tuned in to an episode. All I can say is that it must have been the "Jersey Devil" one...because there was just no intrigue. THIS is what's been captivating the public for years now? THIS? I turned it off never to turn it back on until the Sci-Fi channel had it on a couple years ago. "Eh...why not...I've already seen the "Megastructures" show on The History Channel...let me have a quick looksie." I wasn't going anywhere...I was now hooked...only the dilemma I spoke of earlier reared its ugly head. The imdb stated that it ran for nine seasons...I looked up the one I was watching and it was smack in the middle somewhere. But wait!...FOX is also running their shows...and so is that TBS channel! This is great! Or IS it? Oh...season five at midnite, season two at 1:00 a.m...and season eight at 2:00-5:00? I'll NEVER be able to figure it out this way...maybe I can just buy them all? No, not at $90.00 a seasonal pop. Then someone suggested Netflix to me...I checked and for a mere fraction of the cost I could have them delivered to me and I could play them when I wanted and I'd have the added bonus of being able to watch the show for the first time without any influence of anyone saying I "have to watch"...and now I could be the one to disappear mysteriously off buddy lists. Payback time...and all for the low price of $17.99 a month for 3 dvd's out at any one time...most delivered to you the following day. Or so they claim...

So...I fill out all the little online forms and I'm going to get my three dvd's in the mail the next day! And lo and behold they come...The X-Files - Season 1 - disc 1, 2 and 3. This rules! I send them back...in the prepaid envelope they enclose (clever design by the way) to my "Nearest Netflix Shipping Facility" - in my case this means Birmingham, Alabama. By my calculations...given the fact that I could watch at least one of these 4-show dvd's in one night...and return it the next day...I could be finished viewing all 69 dvd's in...uh...well...did I mention the return envelopes were designed really niftily?

Now, please keep in mind these shows have a reason for the way they were released...one episode after the other...as they follow a plot and timeline (or at least 85% of their shows do)...so the one thing that you don't want to do...is watch them out of order. So, what's the first problem with Netflix that I encounter? They said they shipped the next disc, let's call it "disc 4" for the sake of easy identification purposes...to be due to me on Tuesday...and then I return disc 2 on Monday...which supposedly will allow the next disc on my list, disc 5 to be sent when they receive disc 2. I wait. Tuesday comes and goes...no disc 4...Wednesday...no disc 4...now I send out disc 3...and what comes in the mail? You got it...disc 5 on Thursday. Sill no sign of disc 4 by Friday and it's been sent out prior (supposedly) to disc 5. Netflix offices don't mail anything out on weekends...I am at a stalemate...I have the whole weekend and with no disc 4 to watch, I am not going to jump the gun and watch disc 5 out of order. Hmmm...a mail problem or done on purpose? I am from Jersey...we're skeptical there...so naturally I opt for the "on purpose" reason.

The following week disc 4 shows up...but this already has put a delay in the whole "watch a disc...send it back...we send the next one to you the next business day" process. But, perhaps it is an isolated event...I will go against my better judgment and give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, they couldn't do this to everyone all the time and get away with it, right? Things start going again smoothly...for a little while...and then a disc I've returned to them goes missing. Then one they've sent to me does. By this time I'm figuring they are doing this on purpose...sure, it's one silly disc to me...but you multiply that by a million discs running around there across the country and X amount of customers...that's a whole lot of delay that adds up. Adds up nicely in their favour. So, I get on my "bud list" and query some people..."Do you have Netflix? You do? Has THIS ever happened to you?" The response I get is overwhelming...anywhere from missing discs to "at least one wrong disc appearing a month". Oh sure, they are nice about "rectifying" the situation...they send you out a replacement one...the correct one they should have sent all along - but they don't take in account the time delay. One time I had a broken disc sent to me - it was a clearly done from their end...the envelope was pristine...the disc wasn't. It's reminds me of that old joke about the guy who buys a broken vase very cheaply for a friend...thinking his friend will assume it was broken in the mail...so he tells the merchant he'll take it anyway and here's the address to send it to. His friend calls a few days later and tells him about the broken vase. "Oh, my...that's awful...can't trust the mail, can you?" His friend agrees that is indeed so true...but it was very nice of them to wrap each broken piece individually. Busted! The vase AND him. Same here with the broken dvd...no way I'm going to believe there was not the slightest indentation, the slightest bit of tear or wrinkle on the envelope - but the dvd inside is nearly cleaved in two.

So...even with claims of "throttling" going on and a class-action lawsuit, Netflix continues to maintain their innocence...even tho they did agree to "settle" by "upping everyone to the next level for a month". Wow...let's see...so instead of getting my typical 3 dvd's late a month...I'll get 5?? Wow! What a great deal, guys!

My "Tag" Line

I've been tasked to drive my son around since he was rear-ended a few weeks ago and his car is now history...something that has good and bad points. Bad being I have to drive my son around since his car is now history; good being that it gives me the opportunity to talk to him some more...my captive audience, so to speak. That has nothing to do really with this blog...but it was actually the impetus behind it...I was actually behind it when I said "enough is enough in this town...I'm going to write a blog about it...I have the power...I have the three people who read this...I owe it to all of mankind". Well, I didn't exactly say all of that...which part I said is what they commonly refer to in the "business" as "a trade secret". That fact that I'm not actually "in" the business is of no consequence to this story...sometimes I just like to whine about it all...and technically YOU are my captive audience at this moment.

I used to live in Jersey (that's New Jersey to those of you who aren't FROM there) until I was 26...I grew up driving in Jersey...and Pennsylvania once in a while. I can honestly say that in my "driving" years there I don't ever recall seeing anyone without a license tag (of which we had both front and back plates)...even the "Temporary Tags" were very few and far between. We also had state Motor Vehicle Inspections once a year...there's nothing more comforting than waiting in a line halfway to the shore only to fail your inspection...which meant you had 30 days to come back...wait in line all over again...and hopefully not fail...again. Now I'm not at all insinuating that Jersey was so much better than anywhere...sure there were morons who had their mufflers strapped onto the underside of their cars with a length of rope...I had witnessed people having to push their cars out of the inspection line due to various reasons...and I heard stories of people knocking their driver's side window out because as long as you didn't have one...you wouldn't get cited for not being able to roll it down and back up again. For the benefit of those of you who don't know...Alabama has no yearly vehicle inspection...their inspection consists of someone coming out of the Motor Vehicle Bureau when you first get tags for your car...and visually verifying it's the vehicle...and that the windshield wipers and horn works. A godsend really if you've grown up in Jersey...and failed as many inspections as I have.

But the thing I cannot understand in this town is how so many people...and I saw it again today driving to the mall to pick up my son...in fact I made a concerted effort to look at each passing car after I jotted down the mental note to myself to use this idea as a blog...have no license plates on their vehicles. This fact apparently goes totally unnoticed to the Montgomery police...maybe it's okay to drive around without plates...I never looked it up, altho I would figure the purpose of HAVING plates to begin with would negate that idea totally. I do know that in Jersey they'd stop you in heartbeat (or at least they used to) if anything was amiss with your plates...and again we had a whopping two of them to keep up with. I was stopped once...well, three times actually...driving directly home...after someone had swiped my rear plate from a shopping mall...so I know they paid attention. How I wish they gave me the power to pull people over and fine them for this infraction...I would have made $301,260 for Montgomery County alone. This year alone...and it's only August.

I, as the mindful, watchful eye of license tags since my arrival to this state 15 years ago, like to think I was wholeheartedly instrumental in getting Alabama State University's tag changed to something that the human eye could read. I don't know how many of you remember, but their tag used to have gold letters/numbers with what looked to be black scratch marks superimposed over the whole tag. Even when you were 10 feet behind this plate you couldn't make out half the alpha-numerics...certainly speeding away at the scene of a crime you couldn't get even one. I took it upon myself to write Alabama's "license tag" bureau addressing this fact and they were nice enough to write me back stating that they were happy to hear from me and letters such as mine were the ammunition which was instrumental in their taking a more in-depth look into the matter which ultimately resulted in the plates being redesigned. Chalk one up for being able to actually help make a change in this world...even if it was only a tiny one.

I also feel compelled to point out a major design fault with most license plate holders...you know, the ones that have your college, a saying, etc., which "picture-frame" your tags...why is it that most seem to crop the "state" right off? I don't know how many of you have taken a look lately...and I think I've mentioned it before in an earlier blog...but I believe Alabama is the state with the most differently designed tags out there (also look at the "License Plate Information" link at the top...then to "Distinctive Plates" menu). A whole slew of tags in fact that you'd never be able to identify again at a crime scene. "What state was it, ma'am?" "Uh...I don't know...I think it had an apple or a spaceship on it...I'm pretty sure it was blue or green." Used to be, long ago...that you knew what a Jersey tag looked like, what a Pennsylvania tag looked like, etc. without having to second guess yourself. I can still spot those...and the very boring blue on white of Virginia (whose DMV site sports the fact you can now get 180 different specialized plates)...but Alabama?? I just saw one today I had never seen before and I make a habit of looking at plates...then to make it even more difficult, they had that "tinted window" convex license tag covering obscuring the whole plate. Again, good luck making a tag ID as they are speeding away from you.

I know that Alabama is a lot more trusting of people than we ever were in Jersey...where we are not only born a skeptic...but we also marry it with cynicism, but you can't tell me that crime doesn't happen in this state or town...Montgomery already has had 18 homicides alone this year; Birmingham, 60. Most I know probably weren't driving cars when they occurred...but you have to ask yourself who would drive a car without tags constantly...and why? I don't think asking for a little step up on the vigiliance of non-plated cars is too much to ask...in fact it just might be the first step in stopping Montgomery's 20th...or 21st...or...

Pride...Without Prejudice?

I am going to attempt to show an analogy...brace yourselves. I am a late owl...I might have mentioned this a few times before in my blogs. Now, if you've ever eaten very, very late (I do all the time)...and have been starving for hours, when you finally do eat...your ravenous appetite usually belies whatever you are eating and everything usually tastes remarkably delicious. In this same way, when you are up very, very late...everything gets funnier...I think the brain kicks it down a notch with the IQ points and you get a little drunk off the effect...if you've ever been drunk...things people say are funnier...unless you are male and in a bar...then apparently they tend to make you fight. But that part's not really part of the analogy...so you can disregard that. The point I'm FINALLY making is that, usually, when I'm up and it's late...things that aren't inherently funny...suddenly are fodder for all sorts of things. Just ask my son...we love to stay up, watch bad flicks and "MST3K" them. We are sheer comic geniuses. Trust me.

One would figure, given this adage, that anything I watch at 4:00 in the morning would be hilarious...or at least slightly amusing, right? Think again. I wasn't into putting on a Netflix DVD of MillenniuM (I am determined to watch every spin-off of The X-Files)...so I decided to flip thru the channels to see what was on. If you've ever been up at 4:00 in the morning...there's really not much choice other than infomercials and old films. I have absolutely no problem with old films...there just wasn't one on I wanted to catch...and I have an extreme aversion to infomercials. Not everyone with a fake British accent is an expert...altho they'd have you believing it's so. Ironic that I'd end up watching the BBC America channel, after that comment, but I did. I hit the guide and it showed "game show" for a program on titled "Without Prejudice?"...given the fact I've seen British game shows before...they are usually much fun indeed. So are the ones on the Spanish channel (complete with donkey and confetti)...and any Korean one I've seen...but that's neither here nor there...so I switched the channel to watch it.

The premise of this show, which ended up not really being a game show...but more like one of those reality shows where they vote people off...in fact this was precisely the case. They had a panel of five people and then they had six contestants...a female host presided over the whole affair. The object of the "game" was each one of the people would be voted off systematically until the final person was left to claim the prize of £20,000...roughly $40,000. How they did this all was the catch. I decided that they had indeed baited me enough and I was temporarily hooked.

How did they plan to crush each person's hopes and dreams, one by one? I'm glad I asked. They planned to do it by cunning...they planned to do it by methodic rationalization...they planned to do it basically based on looks alone.

First up they get each to tell a little about themselves...about 45 seconds of "impress the would-be dater who's watching this"-type of introduction. Then they had each member of the panel of judges explain who they wanted to shelve and why. One did indeed state that the bald-headed man she (a British transgender journalist named Sasha) was choosing to vote off was based solely on the fact that he wasn't "naturally" bald and had purposely shaved his head...and she believed that everyone who did this type of thing were of the "supremacist" mentality. Hmmm...and all the while I thought this gameshow was going to be about the contestant's prejudicial thoughts...boy was I wrong. The contestant with the most votes would be made to face the judges and tell a little more about himself and what they ultimately planned to do with the money, had they won it. This man, who looked to be in his early 40s, stated that he wanted to give a portion to his friend for some reason and had hoped to kick-start his lagging career as an offshore fisherman...possibly having enough left over to buy his own boat and make an honest living. The judges, especially Sasha, were utterly ashamed of what they did...hung their heads in desperation and shook them in total disapproval of their actions. They had just judged a person based on looks alone...even tho they had all heard that old adage..."never to judge a book by its cover".

Next up...a little more detail...cameras rolling on the individual contestants...their trying to win the panel over by sucrose-coating their growing up periods. One woman, named Geo, irked me from the start. Why? Solely based on my discriminatory hatred of her...but it was purely based on a very good principle...she was stating her father was some grand astrophysicist or something...and her mother held some other job that surely paid the bills...and she was always jet-hopping back and forth from their posh "north England" 10,000 idyllic farm to their lavish Miami Beach home. Then on top of it, her husband was an architect. Oh...she really needed the money, huh? C'mon...give it to someone who scrapes bottom from the get-go...give it to the deserving. You, my dear...aren't. So...if it were up to me...she would have been sent home packing...her Louis Vuitton luggage. I sat and waited...in mild anticipation (this show wasn't doing it for me...even given the late hour)...for them to draw the same conclusion as I did. And I was appalled! Sasha and the annoying git of a woman next to her (yes, I am going to toss out as many British words as I can think of)...the one with the multi-coloured spiked hair (I have spiked hair...I can talk) were on her side...they loved her! So...they voted someone else off. I forget which...the impression they forged in my brain...well, just wasn't very ironclad after all.

Work & Education: Well...lookie here...seems a few contestants have some issues..."I don't like kids...when I have to hold one, I'll do it for a while...but can't wait to give them back...I'm really selfish, really"...said one...to which the clean-cut young panelist remarked "she was very selfish and looked like an Oompa-Loompa" because, I figure, she was short and quite busty...and a tad overweight. Everyone let out a collective groan...in unison. But...he didn't mean it THAT way...or did he? Hmmm....prejudice again, huh? Next up: He's an accountant by day...a competitive body-builder by night! Well, Sasha is impressed...so are a couple others...but one or two think he's really self-centered...and how could he describe himself as "shy" in the earlier interview...he's only wearing a Speedo, for heaven's sake! Geo continues to annoy me...she needs to be voted off...NOW! My wish is about to get granted...I am doing well...I feel like I'm watching the Miss Universe Pageant...but as with that one...I know I'm just going to get disappointed at the end. I rather like the guy who has tried his hand at lots of jobs but keeps failing, the best...plus he likes to cook for his friends...fate has certainly dealt this man a raw deal. This poor guy needs a break...or at least his on-camera persona leads me to believe.

Now here's where they get creative...they have, unbeknownst to the remaining three, placed a hidden camera in a room where they are filling out some forms. Of course they are set up individually...with the same set up each time. A group of actors are also filling out forms, making small talk with the contestant, when in comes another actor who happens to be a dwarf...who states that he hopes to get in the final mix as he really needs the money. He then walks out...and the sting goes into full force...the actors crack some "short jokes"...remarking "do you think if he wins they'll only pay him half??" The "selfish" woman says a few things that aren't very glowing...the body-builder chuckles a bit but gets back to pen and paper straight away...but to my chagrin "my" favourite doesn't even wait for the joke to be made...in fact he hardly waits for the door to close...jumping at the opportunity to make short jokes and a belittling line of others based on a full five-second encounter. A five-second encounter, which was, by the way, very congenial...he even ta-ta'd the man with a good-luck wave. My hopeful candidate is quite obnoxious...when the cameras aren't rolling he sure shows his true self...and contrary to his outward appearance, it's not very pretty.

All are quite taken aback...they are aghast...how could ANYONE be so horrid...and most annoying...how could they have gotten THIS far beguiling me? They are all in contention this time around...this man is history...and let's hear what he has to say for himself once we march him out in front for all to see. He, true to his nature, defends his actions and is offended they would take offense. He mutters some "you'll get your comeuppance"-type of nonsense before he leaves the stage...everyone realizing that you can indeed be duped and charmed...and all in the span of one hour.

Showdown time...a face-to-face meeting of the last two standing...where the panelists get to ask some questions point-blank to the contestant and the contestant, in turn, gets to hypothetically vote one of the judging elite off. First up...the "selfish" lady who was likened by the one judge to an Oompa Loompa. Hey, what do you know...she's nice...she puts up a front because she doesn't want to show how vulnerable she really is. The panelist she'd axe is the woman who has remained the most quiet...and she justifies herself by stating it's "only because she was the least vocal" and as such was wondering what was really on her mind...whereas the others "you kinda knew what they were thinking already". Sounded quite plausible...and didn't deride her or any of the others. The body-builder makes his entrance...his quiet mannerism is an indication that he was indeed shy all along. He doesn't come across very well...isn't spontaneous like the previous woman...and refuses to "vote anyone off" as he doesn't want to "hurt anyone's feelings". The writing is on the wall...he just isn't as open as his rival...he's not as friendly...he's too introspective...so he must be hiding something...she wasn't...therefore she's more trustworthy...a fate, ironically, she just doled out to a panelist only minutes before is the same that ultimately doomed the man..."just too quiet."

Now comes the part where they tell each the news...and it's also time to confront each about what they would have used the money to buy. The accountant/body-builder guy? Well...apparently he really didn't leave much of an impression on me either...or he was indeed too quiet...I don't even remember what he planned to use his money for had he won. The "selfish"...or should I say "newly redeemed selfish" woman wanted to use it to pay some bills and for breast reduction. Upon hearing that, the judges simultaneously remember the mean-spirited words of the young male panelist...and smile little awkward smiles that the winner won't "get" until she watches the taping later. Will those comments bother her? Well...she did also "get" £20,000...you be the judge.

Write On

I've decided, for the short haul at least, to commandeer my son's laptop so I can go online instead of limping along with my daughter's dinosaur. I'm also determined to write more frequently...as I've been in a depressing little slump for a quite a while. Perhaps it will snap me out of it...and be cathartic. Not that I think it will...I just wanted to use the word "cathartic" in one of these blogs once. C'mon...it was a nice segue.

Will SOAP Clean Up?

Sometimes when you least expect it...a series of otherwise unrelated events seem to converge together to point to one single event...for the case of storytelling in this blog, it's SOAP. What is SOAP you ask? To answer that question for the three of you who are asking, it's an acronym for the title of a film due out that's been given more hype online than probably any other: Snakes on a Plane.

Now, I've read some material about Snakes on a Plane quite a while back...this movie stars Samuel L. Jackson as an FBI agent designated to accompany a mob witness en route from Hawaii to Los Angeles...where open waters are just conducive enough to provide the requisite hours-long fodder to take place. What fodder is that? Namely unleashing 400 deadly "snakes with a vengeance" upon totally unsuspecting passengers on an otherwise routine flight...for solely one purpose...to kill said witness. You know, that's a lot of trouble to go thru...and almost on par with those James Bond villains...who concoct some elaborate scheme straight out of the mind of Rube Goldberg...just to kill one single individual.

Now, if I didn't know better, I'd say that the studio execs are masterminding some plot to ingrain this film into my psyche. Monday night, my daughter shows me an article about "Snakes on a Plane" in her September 2006 (okay, they are a little ahead of themselves here) "Reptiles" magazine. Yesterday, my son cleans out and redesigns his Kingsnake vivarium...he has a total of three snakes at the moment...he used to have ten. Last night as well, David Letterman had a guest on, reptile expert, Dr. Darrel Frost, from New York's American Museum of Natural History. He explained that snakes and lizards really should be characterized into one greater order...that being 'squamata'. So, I'm thinking that perhaps they should change the name of "Snakes on a Plane" to "Squamata on a Plane"...and technically they could still keep the same abbreviation.

So, where will I be on the 18th of August? Will I slither off to the theatre to catch the opening night of this movie? Will I be one of the many they are hoping to recoil in horror at the sight of hundreds of snakes? Will this film shed any light on how snakes really are...or will it just end up doing what Jaws did for sharks? Considering the magnitude of free publicity it's already had...on just what scale will this movie break any records? And will I be able to work in one more snake-related pun before this paragraph is completed? Oh, I mite...but I won't.

Very Good Eats

What happens when you combine Julia Child with Bill Nye? No...not a science experiment gone horribly wrong...you basically, and very basically at that, get the premise of a show on the Food Network called "Good Eats" hosted by Alton Brown...and we wouldn't miss it. Yes, it is that good. He is that good. Would THIS happen if he weren't?

You don't cook? Can't stand Rachael Ray? Well, maybe that last one is just me...but chances are if you give this guy a watch or two...you will indeed watch again. In fact I've watched enough times to know that Alton lives in Marietta, Georgia...and annoyed his professors when he attended the New England Culinary Institute by continually asking "why" certain foods did what they did in recipes. Okay, I'll fess up...he didn't per se TELL us this...I kinda Google'd him after seeing a few "Whole Foods Market - Atlanta, GA" credits flashed at the bottom of the screen when he'd venture out of his kitchen to show us whatever it was he was showing us in that episode. Oh, yes...his show's not just a cooking show...he cleverly blends science and culinary know-how in between...so you actually come away not only knowing what an emulsifier is, but that eggs are one...what a mother is and why some vinegars have them and others don't, which rotisseries on grills work best...and just a whole bunch of other stuff...whipped up with an off-beat, quirky sense of humour. Even his episode titles reflect that this won't be your typical boring, run of the mill bland diet of pabulum that cooking shows of the past...or present for that matter...have fed us for ages. Sure, Emeril says "Bam!" a lot...but he couldn't keep my whole family entertained for 30 minutes (and he's got an hour-long show). On the contrary, Alton does...my 11-year-old likes him as much as my 18-year-old son...and nothing short of a role-playing action game on the computer holds his attention for long.

Now I've only tuned in to "Good Eats" for a relatively short time...the first episode I caught showed him grilling a potato (or was it an eggplant?)...with a Mr. Potato Head-type of face...and saying totally inappropriate things to it whilst it cooked. He was funny...and I was hooked. Due to that show I now know to spot the difference between male and female eggplants...and I've actually used that knowledge to pick out my very own eggplants...oh, okay...first and foremost to unsuspectingly walk up to people in the store in order to share my bit of vegetative trivia...which, by the way, eggplant is actually a berry. Nothing impresses people more than inane trivial knowledge about the sex of vegetables...unless it's sex WITH vegetables...and to the best of my knowledge, he's never done that show.

I've also deduced (no, I'm not really a stalker) that Alton likes to use the words "thusly" and "permutations", refers to items in the kitchen that perform only one job as "uni-taskers" and that he and I share a fondness of Martinis. And I know this might sound a bit odd, but each time he opens his fridge...I get a little happy, albeit maybe a little too happy, when I see the same item that I have in mine. "Ooooh...he buys the same organic cream as I do! Look...the same drinks!" But, he's just so 'gosh darned' (as he'd probably put it) entertaining, ...that it's actually fun to spy the same thing or to say why or what something is or does before he does...or to even imagine running into him in Buckhead one day. And maybe, just maybe...we could even reminisce about his "Raising the Bar" and "Olive Me" episodes while having a Martini...or two.

Bulwer-Lytton Revisited

I've been told I'm egotistical...well, by one person...who lives in my house who shall remain nameless. I've also been told that the only way to get anyplace is to promote yourself. So, I tend to believe the latter as they say there's no such thing as bad press. Well, undoubtedly there have been some people who had bad press...and they aren't around anymore...but it certainly didn't hurt a lot of careers they said it was going to. Yeah, Hugh Grant certainly is hurting nowadays I'm sure. So is Paris Hilton...yep, whoa boy, she hasn't been heard from in nearly minutes.

So the topic of this blog will center around me...as they say you should write what you know. "They" talk a lot by the way...and I bet they rewrote a lot, too. I tend not to rewrite a lot...could you possibly tell? Well, it did get me somewhere once...I might have mentioned once or twice before...but I won a little contest back in 2003 called "The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest"...which, if you are good enough at writing bad enough...on purpose, mind you...you just might get praised for it. One night, after being told about the contest, I awoke and penned down my immortal entry, changed one word, and sent it off to the contest months later. Well, I decided to try my hand at it again this year...again, without rewriting...I sent off my solitary entry (okay, this time I did send in two...but I don't think the second one counted as I turned it in literally right before they announced the winners...so for technical and embellishment purposes, I'm going to stick to my claim)...and I was picked for a "Miscellaneous Dishonorable Mention". Don't let the title fool you, it's actually quite an accolade...granted not quite the accomplishment as the overall grand prize, but I really didn't think they'd pick me twice for that.

After reading the overall winner Tuesday, I scanned the rest of them...fervently scrolling, scrolling to see if my name popped up anywhere. Yes, I know I could have easily done a "find"...but that wouldn't have had the same effect...that 38 seconds of excruciating agony and anticipation as each passing name went by...was well worth it when I found mine...down near the very end of the list...where I've convinced myself they put all the "really good ones".

So, after I got picked this time around I got to thinking...what are the odds that a previous winner would enter knowing pretty much full well there is no place to go than down...and if I did get mentioned at all, could I handle the "shame" of it...and most importantly...could I parlay it into a few more minutes of fame? Well, let's find out! (Oh, after this I am so not going to get picked a third time.)

The first thing I did was harken back to my "glory days"...and how much I loved the press attention...and how much I thought my CNN Live interview was going to award me with the riches I so fully deserved...you know, the multi-book writing contract, Letterman's people calling me countering the offer from Leno's...who were also countering SNL's. You know...all that stuff that was now rightfully mine for the taking...only there was one catch...how to go about taking something that you aren't given. I still haven't been able to figure that one out exactly...but I had someone who played my HumorMeOnline site that knew someone who knew someone or something like that...at Conan O'Brien's show. Okay, I'm no fan of Conan's...but hell...I'll be his number one fan if I end up on his show. So, off I whisked my CNN videotape, with a little picture of Alabama with the arrow pointing to Wetumpka, apparently representing me as I wasn't in a studio at the time...only to hear back from Conan's people that "they weren't sure I could fill up a whole six minutes". Oh, right...I could fill up six hours...and still not be done saying what I came to say...Jimmy Stewart's portrayal of Mr. Smith in DC has nothing on me. Of course it remains to be seen if I am as interesting in others' minds as I am in my own...altho CNN's, David Lawrence Show's, and some other show's people assured me I was.

To best be the judge of this, I think I should be interviewed some more...that is why I got up this morning and rattled off an email to Craig Ferguson's show...explaining that since he wasn't around in 2003 when I first won...perhaps now they'd like to get around to it since I kinda "won" again. Tomorrow I write to Dave...Letterman that is...and certainly he won't pass this up...c'mon he's had a guy on the show who nail-gunned a nail into his own head...how many minutes can that take to go into detail about? How much could the guy remember afterwards? He had a friggen nail stuck in his head after all!

This brilliant idea of mine is surely going to get me all those perks I missed out on the first time around...or at the very least another interview with the Montgomery Advertiser people...they DO read this blog...right?

Girls' Night Out

Well, I was going to write about how my computer died the other day...and how self-reliant we are on computers as a population...but you probably already are aware of this, as if you are reading this now, chances are you have dealt with your share of computer mishaps and inept "help".

What I'm going to ramble on about instead is sleepovers. The right of passage for every young girl...do guys even have an equivalent? I remember with extreme fondness, as a child, the anticipation of a "sleepover". I lived far removed from friends, and people in general, up until the age of 11...when we moved to a much more "inhabited" locale. Suddenly I went from total isolation, to having a friend directly across the street from me...Robyn H, if you are out there...you were that friend. Robyn was a whole year younger than me...or was it two. When you are 11...one year is a lot...two years is astronomical...now it's not so much an issue, but I would still love to be two years younger than I am...contrary to what "The Stones" say, time is not on our side.

But back to Robyn...Robyn had a sister named Patty...whom I "re-met" years after she did a stint in the Army and had "matured" quite a lot...she was actually a very nice person...but as she was a little older than me...and Robyn's sister, she was our nemesis when we were young...she was quite gullible. I think Patty came from a long line of gullible people...and Robyn and I used that to our advantage...I won't go into detail...but my, we had fun. I was never an "evil" child per se...but when a person is asking for it, and you are raised in New Jersey...well, you kinda oblige them.

I had no problem making friends, unlike poor Patty...I was quite outgoing...and as such had many sleepovers. I look back at it now, my childhood, and realize just how trusting adults were. I used to baby sit at the very slight age of 11...my daughter is 11 and altho I trust her, I wouldn't entrust the lives of my 3 and 5-year olds to ANY 11-year-old. I was quite mature for my age...my daughter is the same...but still...11??? That IS rather young. My first sleepover happened before then...so did my first cigarette...they both happened simultaneously. Trusting adults...and children who want to get over on them...do not mix. A word to the wise: parents who go to bed before their children when they have friends over...if you think nothing is going on...wake up...no one is that naive...let alone your children.

Again, I reiterate...I was a good child...BUT if I wanted to do stuff that was much less than on the "up-and-up"...I could have succeeded...I had so many opportunities...I remember sneaking out with my friends more times than I had friends...and because I remember being able to do it, no one is going to be able to do it on my watch.

So, as I realize my daughter is a product of genes...and my genes tend to stay up all night...I've done all I can to pound this knowledge into her friends' parents without sounding totally condescending. Okay, I did sound condescending...but I meant well...I am never going to be one of those parents who never did "anything" wrong. You know the type...the "when I was your age...I NEVER did blah blah"...oh, you did, too...we ALL did...don't go there. I KNOW what I did, therefore I know what you are capable of, as I was capable of it at your age...only I had better judgement than to do it...I had a mother who cared enough to listen to me...who was once a child herself, in an era where no one ever did anything...only she had the belief in me to be truthful. No man is an island...no woman is either.

Fried and Scrambled

Just wanted to write to let everyone know that I haven't been a slug...but I haven't been able to post anything since my computer fried.

I've just now been able to get the information to sign on to post this...and I am sure I will be frustrated some more come this evening to rant on and on in a blog about computers and the evil ways they hold us hostage.

So, until then, you can rest assured I will be thinking of being in a much, much better place...

Stars Fell On...Wetumpka

Stars fell on Alabama some 80+ million years ago...well, not exactly "stars"...but "cosmic debris" just doesn't have the same ring to it...it's not on my license tag...and as far as I know, no one from Alabama's ever written a love ballad about cosmic debris...probably not even a ditty. Nonetheless, a meteor slammed into the ground right in my backyard and I've been talking about it for ages...and it seems not many people are really giving it the attention I think it deserves.

Where are the billboards that say "Welcome to Wetumpka...Home of an Honest to Goodness Meteor Crater Impact Site"...or those cutesy signs with the elaborate iron scrollwork on top that designate a "historical event". If this isn't considered a historical event, I don't know what is...and I think it's long overdue.

A little back-history about myself...I loved dinosaurs when dinosaurs weren't "cool"...way before "Jurassic Park" came about, I also loved space stuff, like the moon landing...and was glued to the television set when Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" series came on PBS, so you can say I'm a little surprised this area isn't touting a meteorite landing zone, something they didn't have to spend any money on to create...and capitalizing off of it in some small way.

Where are the walking tours...where are the reporters...where are the documentaries on The Discovery Channel showing the geologist with the pick-axe pointing to the shocked quartz explaining shocked quartz's relevance as it pertains to impact craters, where is that perimeter fence cordoning off the area so no one pilfers souvenirs? When I first heard about them sending in scientists to verify the geologic evidence a few years back I was extremely excited...when they left with more proof to support their earlier findings, I was telling everyone who would listen. Most people I spoke with here didn't even know they came and left...most people didn't seem to care. Oh, I know there's a lot more going on in the world to concentrate on than some 6.5 km hole left in the Earth by some wayward asteroid that now is slowly being etched away and obscured by Super Walmarts, Rite-Aids and houses anyway.

But I can step outside...and step onto the rock steps that lead down to my patio...the very same rocks that were violently heaved from the depths all those eons ago...which used to be on the side of Route 231 before we lugged them home...years before I found out about the impact crater that hardly anyone cares about. But at least now they are getting some attention...if only by us.

Getting Carded

This week tens upon thousands of people did what I used to do...read dozens upon dozens of Father's Day cards to find one that doesn't have a sappy sentiment such as "You are the world's best Dad!" and "Dad...thanks for all the things you did for me throughout the years even tho I didn't appreciate them." I know that this happens as I would see someone with the same robotic movements as me..."pick a card up...open card...roll eyes...put card back...pick up a card..." I would comment..."Oh...I wish there'd be just a generic "Happy Father's Day" one...nothing like golf clubs or race cars on the front...no "#1 Best Dad" pull off medals in the inside. Just a "here's my requisite card 'cause I have to" section...to make it much easier on us. And they would totally agree...furnishing their rationale for doing it...seeking a stranger's approval...and feeling less guilty once received.

Oh...seriously, I've seen the looks on faces. Watch for yourself next time you are standing in the "Happy" Birthday, Father's Day, Mother's Day, Anniversary, etc., aisle. These people are none too happy. Rows upon rows of cards with people holding hands, kissing, having a picnic, horseback riding...you'd think they are selling tampons. It gets to be where you almost want to just complain they don't have one of those "Gift Cards" so you can just spend $4 on one to give it to the person so they can just go pick their own card out. "Here ya go...I didn't care enough to pick a present out for you...why would I bother wasting 20 minutes looking for a card?"

I can see Hallmark making a killing on these things: "When you don't care enough to send the very best...and really don't want to waste the time gagging..." Personally I like the cards without stuff inside...I like to write my own sentiments. Face it, if you are in love with someone, you should be the only one who could tell them how you think...and conversely...if you can't stand the ground they walk upon...especially if you have to tread upon it right after they do.

Yes, I know this probably sounds horribly awful, especially since I revered my Mother so...but sometimes even cards with comedic undertones can't camouflage what you feel in your heart. Sometimes you just want to just say what you have to say...without having to say anything else. Enough said.

Silly Hat Fridays

If you've lived any time in Montgomery you know full well that this is just not a hoppin' town. This whole place shuts down around 9:00...most people have gone to bed long before then. The club scene...is there a club scene? Well, maybe there is...I'm old now, so maybe it's just knowledge privy only to the younger people. But it seems to me that if you are young and want to have a good time...there's just no place to hang out and meet people in this town...well, even if you are older...you got me where you go. Face it, Barnes & Noble and Books-A-Million's dating scene is only surpassed by Starbucks. In other words...this place is just not happening.

Oh, I know this place isn't New York City, or Los Angeles or Atlanta...far from it...but they have something we don't have. They have places where you can casually stroll down the street and shuffle in and out of and mingle with people who are doing the same. In fact, the town of Buckhead, a section of Atlanta that I love to visit...has a sign on the street where a bunch of clubs are lined up one after the other, which states you cannot circle the block more than three times as this would then be considered "cruising". Oh, no such signs ever needed in THIS town, ever...so I think we need to do something else to get people talking and having a good time.

My proposal...which I've thought about for years...is "Silly Hat Fridays". Oh, don't laugh now...well, unless it gets you to start talking to someone else you wouldn't ordinarily speak to. Just think about it...if a whole community can get into stacking up a flaming tower of jack o'lanterns during Halloween and beating their past record for it...well, that's something. I think we could start something, too. I think we should.

Who wouldn't like to don a wacky hat and drive around town on a Friday night? Look what conversations it would spark..."Hey, where'd you get THAT hat? I made my own...I'm working at the Shakespeare Theatre helping out with their costumes." Or "I got mine online at this place called Giant Steps." Now, would you ever have known that about anyone, without the Silly Hat day? I don't think so. Then it just snowballs from there...you start talking about other things...and pretty soon your awkwardness has turned to real conversation and you didn't have to buy a $6 Frappamochaccino Latte and sip it outside hoping someone notices you. Someone WILL notice you! And they will talk.

Then it can also be parlayed into various things...clubs can feature a discount if you wear a silly hat, so can restaurants and other establishments. If you were living in Jersey, I'd say instead of selling those "Velvet Elvises" by the roadside, you could set up shop selling silly hats...but we aren't in Jersey...so I guess that guy who sells sunglasses out in front of Catholic High can switch...apparently that's a good place to sell sunglasses...I've seen him there a few times. And on Sundays it can be "buy a paper...and a silly hat...that'll be $20...now get your butt outta here, the light's changed". See? Not only has this idea been instrumental in garnering new relationships and promoting friendships...but it's also opened up a whole new marketing dream. "Buy a Christmas tree...get a free hat." Who could possibly pass that opportunity up? "Why...yes, my tree does rival something out of that Charlie Brown Christmas Special...but LOOK at the free hat I got!"

So, as we've just got done at the polls picking our primary candidates for Governor, I think we should see if one of them wants to throw their silly hat into the ring and start a statewide campaign addressing this. Okay, so it wouldn't be as important a platform to run on...than all those other issues that they never deliver...but someone would probably make a killing on those donkey and elephant hats. At the very least that would certainly get people talking for a while...even if they, too, make a few false promises...but hey...isn't that what dating's all about?

Hair Today...Gone Tomorrow

Something happened in the past decade or two which no one has stepped forward to claim credit for...a great plague upon humanity has been cured. Somewhere along the line the Louis Pasteur of hair care products has failed to get his due recognition...somewhere between the time period of Charlie's Angels and the movie remake, "frizzies" and "split ends" became a thing of the past.

When exactly did this all happen? I was thinking about it the other day...oh, I think about the oddest things; but it dawned on me that I haven't seen anyone on television looking forlornly at their split ends like it was the end of the world. No "she's got frizzies!" comments from co-workers being whispered around the office behind their dishpan hands...as dishpan hands are now a thing of the past as well. That "secret ingredient" Madge had everyone "soaking in" in that Palmolive Dishwashing Liquid must have had its patent expire, along with her, sometime in 2004.

So, perhaps other horrid afflictions that dominated the airwaves of the 70's, 80's, and 90's have been exorcised from the viewing public. Let's explore that theory...and to do that we need to remember all those shows we used to watch, what they used to wear that we just had to have, and what we used to buy that we thought would make us look like them, smell like them, and be as irresistible as them...and more importantly, those commercials which promised to do just that.

It seems that women don't get those nasty nicks when they shave their legs anymore and it has absolutely nothing to do with the Epilady or Nads. Epilady which would yank the unsuspecting hair from the most delicate places on a woman's body only to make you wish you'd just pour hot wax on your body. Oh...hot wax? We can do that, too...but we have this product called Nads...Nads...guaranteed to make you buy the product just so you can giggle to your friends that you have Nads. Oh, don't even tell me you watched this infomercial without doing a double-take. But all those products are now a thing of the past...and I don't know how women go about removing all that unwanted hair and apparently the people on television don't care much either.

Women also don't need to control their bulges anymore via L'eggs Control Top Pantyhose...and girdles went out with Lucy. The last time I saw someone on TV dealing with IPLs (Invisible Panty Lines) girls didn't wear thongs that showed above their low-cut jeans as heaven forbid nothing "showed" in the 70's. Remember those seamless bras? "Oh...look at her...you can see the lines on her bra showing thru the shirt...those horrid straps...they aren't SEAMLESS!" Well, they never banked on Madonna coming along wearing her underwear on the outside of her clothes, did they? And seriously, don't we all owe her a debt of gratitude? Without her maybe we'd be so darn self-conscious by now about any protrusion our underwear dared to show that we'd be seeing lawsuits against Playtex..."Your 18-hour bra didn't last 18 hours...and I didn't get that promotion as I was paying too much attention to just how much my seams were showing when I interviewed that I couldn't concentrate on the questions themselves. I therefore am seeking 3 million in damages and another 5 mil in punytive (okay that's bad...I know it) ones...as your bra didn't remotely make me anywhere as endowed as Jane Russell." Altho Farrah Fawcett never was either...and she did just fine jiggling career and fame for a while there.

And I'm not purposely neglecting you guys...but it seems no one wants to see you naked anymore. Sorry. No more "all my men wear English Leather or they wear nothing at all"...and "take it off...take it ALL off". Forget wearing Hi-Karate...no one's going to "attack" you in the elevator no matter how many Cosmo magazines you buy her. Don't believe everything you see...or thinks she reads.

So, tonight as I watch TV I will be reminded that my abdominal bloating can be cured with Zelnorm, my insomnia can be cured with Lunesta, my teeth aren't white enough...my cholesterol isn't low enough...and if I've ever had difficulty concentrating it's gotta be a sign of something more serious that I should probably "ask my doctor about". And regardless of whether I'm taking a purple, blue, or pink pill...anything I take can cause stomach upset, headache or diarrhea...but as far as I know, my hair will still be shiny and my hands...soft as silk.