It's the Little Things

I am currently sitting on the couch eating Taco Bell and watching "The Big Lebowski". I know what you're thinking: "So?"

So, this is something that pre-married me would not have been excited about at all. This is something that pre-married me would have done almost daily, with a rotating selection of fast foods and cinematic masterpieces. But married me noticed today that this is something exciting.

Just because the things we used to do when we were younger are not age appropriate now, doesn't necessarily make them any less enjoyable. Just because we have to be responsible now, eat right so we don't have a heart-attack at 40, exercise so our spouse will continue to think we're attractive and go to work everyday without being under the influence of any controlled substances doesn't mean that we can't take a little time out every once in a while to remind ourselves of the selves we used to be. Not to recapture it, but to compare it to the selves we are now and to admire how far we've come.

So, while C is in DC this weekend interviewing for a very prestigious position within the Federal Government, I will continue to compare my current self to my former self by going out with my buddies tonight to a bar that serves beer in plastic cups and playing foosball at $1.00 a game all night without thinking even once about other and more productive ways I could have spent that money. And when I'm back at work on Monday, sober and wondering why I have to be so responsible all the time, I'll remind myself that being an adult isn't always fun, but it's an important part of growing up.

What to do When Lethal Injection is too Lenient

I've been watching the news coverage of this repulsive act of violence in Arizona and I can't help but think about all the things that haven't changed since the last time something like this happened. And all the things that didn't change the time before. How is that we as a nation can watch these atrocious and possibly preventable tragedies unfold time after time and take absolutely no steps to prevent them from happening again?

This asswipe in Tuscon is just the latest in a string of asswipes who will be allowed to have free and easy access to firearms and will choose to use that freedom to kill innocent people for no other reason than their own mental instability.

I know it's shocking, but the answer is not MORE guns. That line of thinking is akin to, "Holy crap, the kitchen is on fire!! Quick, get the matches before it spreads!!" The only people who believe that a more heavily armed populace is the solution to the problem of gun violence in this country are the people profiting from the sale of guns; and let's be honest, do we really care what they, or their political wing (The NRA), have to say on the matter?

And while it's not a solution to the problem, there is a civic need for this guy and others like him to be disposed of quickly and publicly. Lethal injection is a joke. Why waste our collective time and tax dollars on a person so devoid of any value? Walk him to the nearest dumpster, shoot him once for every one of his victims and leave him there until the next regularly scheduled trash collection.

Even as I say this, I know that it's nothing more than an unsatisfying and disturbing fantasy. Americans as a group would not allow that kind of blatant disregard for even the most despised of human lives. The acts of heroism and selflessness of last Saturday demonstrate clearly that people are mostly good. After wrestling this armed psycho to the ground, the good men responsible for subduing him could have very well used his own gun to finish him off. After all, they would have any number of justifications: self defense, fear, retaliation, etc. But they didn't. Even in a situation that must have been very emotionally charged, while the murder is subdued and yet continued to try to reload his weapon, these men did what was right, and waited for the authorities to arrive.

That is much more heroic than any vigilante justice or grotesque public retribution.

Hahahahahahahahaha!

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=132595004

 

It's like some sort of brain teaser: "If a million hipster iTards oversleep on the same day, will anyone notice?"

The Holidays: 2010 Edition

Well, it's finally over. It's the time of year where I tend to eat too much, sleep too little and start drinking each afternoon. I am, of course, talking about The Holidays.

For your reading pleasure, I will now hit the highlights of a season so filled with familial drama, gift buying deception and intrigue, and boozy eggnog that it's a blessing that it only comes around once a year.

Thanksgiving:
I have the honor of sharing the week of my birthday each year with Thanksgiving. In the grand scheme of things, the holiday of over indulgence is not a bad one to be saddled with. Also, conveniently, C's birthday is a few days before Christmas, so the post-nuptial "How do we do parse out holiday time with the in-laws?" conversation ended up being a no-brainer.

So as expected, we ate far too much and drank cocktails all afternoon. I fried a turkey and spilled oil all over my brand new pants, but that was the only casualty of the day; except, of course, my recommended daily allowance of calories.

Christmas:
The in-laws have a very nice house on a lake in central Texas that we use as a gathering point for family events. They are a pretty far-flung bunch, spread from Washington state, to New Mexico, to New York City, so it is nice to a have a place large enough for everyone. The only problem is that no place is large enough for a family of five adults plus two husbands, except maybe the Grand Canyon. Although everyone has their own place to sleep, coexistence is a very real aspect of every other room in the house. And while family time is ostensibly the reason for the season, anyone born after 1975 knows that the real reason for the season is Nintendo. Getting new games as gifts and playing them for hours and hours a day is a holiday tradition that I take very seriously. The in-laws, however, would rather shear some sheep and make their own holiday sweaters. Or churn butter by hand. Or read by candle light. So after a week of installing new sinks, faucets, and drains, followed by hand washing the dishes after every meal, I was ready to get back to civilization.

Christmas eve, C's sister convinced us to attend services at the local Unitarian Church. Being Catholic my whole life, I'd never been to religious services at any non-Catholic institution, but I figured that all Christian services were all pretty much the same. My assumption was incorrect. In principle, I have no problem with the Unitarian views of religion: everyone is equal, everyone has the right to explore their own religious path, everyone deserves justice, peace and liberty, etc. But all this freedom and liberty creates a relaxed religious environment that I was very uncomfortable in. Children ran free while the minister told the story of the Unitarian church member who wrote "'twas the Night Before Christmas", some guy set up a camcorder to video tape the event, it was all very loose and unstructured. And that's fine for some people, I don't want to deprive them of that. My personal belief, though, is that like your cranky great-uncle Bob, God loves us, but doesn't particularly like us messing with his stuff. That's why there are so many rules governing your behavior when you are in his house.

New Year's Eve:
I got drunk at a concert and fell on my head trying to climb over a railing at the train station. The rest of the night is a blur, literally and figuratively, although I do distinctly remember my lovely wife laughing at me while I lay confused on the floor. Thanks, honey.

New Year's Day:
The wife and I have a tradition of stockpiling supplies in the week leading up to the 1st of January so that we will have no cause to leave the house for the entire day. Like preparing for a zombie attack, or a blizzard, we fill the fridge with any food item that we might possibly feel like eating during the 24 hour stretch between December 31 and January 2. We did pretty well this year. We certainly didn't leave the house, not even to take me to the hospital to have me examined for a concussion. Late in the day, we wanted to make a chocolate cake, but didn't have enough sugar.

Make a note for next year.

Some dude here in the office is wearing his sunglasses...indoors.

I'm finding it hard to resist the urge to choke him.

In fairness, it looks as though there is a medical explaination for this slice of ridiculousness; I saw some swelling and discoloration peeking out from around the edges of his Gucci shades.

But let's be serious -- indoors? It's a pretty mild environment here indoors, what with the climate control, carpet, and soft fluorescent lighting.

I know what you're thinking: "Dude, chill out, it's not that big of a deal", etc.

Fine, but you don't have to look at this all damn day while you're trying to do insurancey type things in a semi-professional environment:

Weezin' the juice, Bud-dy

Can anyone tell me why I, a 31 year old married man who has a real, adult job and does not partake in any illegal substances of any kind, am laughing out loud while watching Encino Man?

And before you ask: no, I have not been drinking.

When the movie came out, I was 12, so maybe it reminds me of a simpler time, when I had no cares and thought high school would be the time of my life. The story is about high schoolers, so maybe it reminds me that high school was the time of my life. Or maybe cavemen are just funny.

Either way, when compared to the special-effects-laden piles of cinematic dooky that are being over-hyped and force-fed to the almighty 18-24 market of today (read: Transformers, Avatar, etc.), it seems especially silly that "caveman goes to high school" is really all it takes to keep people entertained.

You can't say that...ever: Vol. 5

Co-worker, after receiving another pointless, buzz word-filled, corporate wide e-mail about a topic that barely relates in any meaningful way to the work we do all day: "Damn Outlook foiled my plan. I tried to add [Our CEO] to my 'blocked senders' list, and it won't let me."

Rick Perry:

Stop talking about "Fighting Washington" when your state is facing a $25 BILLION budget shortfall, you ignorant, self-righteous, asshole.

Shut the fuck up and do your job.

Thanks.

Ho. Ly. Shit.

Miss me?

Sorry I haven't been available lately.  As you may or not know, it is playoff time in the world of baseball.  That doesn't often mean much to a person from Dallas, but this year is different:  the Texas Rangers have made it to the World Series. 

I'm pretty sure this is going to prove to be a once in a lifetime occurrence, so I will be indisposed for the remainder of the season. 

I will miss you all.  But please be strong, and our time apart will be over before you know it.

You Can't Say That...Ever: Vol 4

Wife:  You do that at work?!

Me:  Hell yeah!  I don't get paid to shit at home.

Daydreamin'

As I stood in the parking lot at work this morning during a fire drill, I caught myself thinking about how I would feel if the building were actually on fire. 

And even though it was not an actual emergency, and I'm safely back in my dreary cube mindlessly working ad nauseam, I still have a smile on my face.

Dear Katy Perry,

You suck.

That is all.

Fleas Follow the Dirty

Over the weekend, C and I took a trip to see my little sister.  She lives in Austin where C and I went to school, met, and began the life-long struggle for dominance that continues to be the centerpiece of our relationship. 

We decided to rent a condo from a stranger on the internet for our stay there.  I know it sounds like a bad idea, but there are a few really good websites out there that allow owners of rental properties to post and book their places for themselves.  The end result is a nice, unique place to stay while on vacation at a very affordable price.  C and I have had a lot of luck with places like this in our travels to Mexico, Europe, Argentina, and all around the US.

Except this time, there were fleas.  LOTS of fleas.  Everywhere.  It was disturbing.  From the second we walked in the door to the time we realized what was happening and said, "Holy shit, there are fleas EVERYWHERE!  Run for your life!" and left, we each sustained about sixteen dozen flea bites.

Consequently, I probably have the plague.  So, for the foreseeable future, I will be blogging to you from quarantine. 

The CDC insists it's better this way.

To assassinate or not assassinate...that is the question

C asked, upon hearing of Preacher Glenn Beck's "Restoring Honor" non-political, let's all follow one God (or else) rally, "Why doesn't someone shoot that guy?"  The obvious answer, of course, is that Conservatives leaders, especially the most vocal and repulsive (I'm looking at you, Beck) are like the mythical Hydra: for every one you dispose of, two grow back in its place.

The conversation got me thinking, though, about the historical figures who have, and those who have not, fallen victim to the time honored tradition of assassination.  What follows is a brief summary:

Have:
- Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.
- JFK
- RFK
- Pope John Paul II (attempted)
- Abraham Lincoln
- Julius Caesar
- Gandhi
- John Lennon
- Malcolm X

Have not:
- Hitler
- Osama bin Laden
- Henry VIII
- Paris Hilton
- Ronald Reagan (attempted)
- Fidel Castro
- Napoleon
- The Black Eyed Peas

So there you have it, Glen.  I think history has been very clear: only people who are worth a shit get assassinated.  That means you can continue to do the stupid things you do without fear of violent retaliation. 

If only the people who promote tolerance and peace could have that luxury...