Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Cell-ing Out

When I was a lad, I used to love the tricorders on the TV series, "Star Trek". "Wouldn't it be great," thought I, "to have a device so you could get in touch with someone whenever you needed to?"

Be careful what you wish for. We now have cell phones. 

I have a cell phone, and I must admit, it gives me a great feeling of security that, should I ever break down in my car in the middle of nowhere, I will be able to contact help. Provided I have enough "bars" in the area for my cell phone to work. Just like on "Star Trek".

There is a small problem with cell phones, however: PEOPLE CAN'T GET OFF THE FREAKIN' THINGS! No matter where you go, someone is chatting away on their cell. Here are some of my "favorites":

• People in the supermarket, loudly asking the person at home what they need to get. Gee, in my day, we had some little inventions called "pencils" and "paper", on
which you wrote what you needed to get before you left for the store.

• People driving in their cars and chatting away on their phone, while trying to make left turns, drinking coffee, or anything else you're not supposed to do while you should be concentrating on the road and have both hands on the wheel.

• How about the folks who chat on the phone in public restrooms? I have had a few  incidents where I was sitting in a stall, doing my "business", alone with my thoughts, when I thought I heard someone speaking to me. "Hello?", I replied. Then I heard a voice saying, "Hold on, some creep in the next stall is talking to me." Turns out, it was just my next door neighbor on their cell. Was what you had to tell your contact SOOOO important you couldn't wait till you got off the potty?

• The biggest bane of my existence, however, is teenagers "text messaging". Sure, I was once a teen, and I liked communicating with my friends, but I never really felt the need to send a message about every single piece of minutia that was happening to me at the moment. Maybe it's a generation-gap thing.

This post is rapidly becoming a grumpy old man rant about change and the manners of young people, so I will end it here.

Besides, my cell phone is ringing!

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Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Toy Boy

We all have (hopefully) a passion in our lives. Whether it be wine, women, song, or just getting out to the shed to use power tools, we all have something that dulls the pain of our day to day existence.

I have many passions, most of which are not suited for posting on this blog. My biggest passion (next to Perfect Wife), however, is toys. 

Yes, I am a grown man, and probably should be out in the shed using power tools, but I just love toys! Action figures to be exact (although some of you may know how much I love the Muppet I got for Christmas. If not, go to link for the Clique Clack site on the right, for all the details).

Perhaps I never grew up (actually, that's pretty much a given), but when I was a lad, there just weren't many toys based on your favorite characters from movies and TV shows, and you wanted them badly. So, I'm making up for it now. 

Sure, at one point in the 70's there were the crummy MEGO figures from various TV shows and movies, and later the STAR WARS toys, which were okay, but didn't have the love and attention to detail that a young geek like me required. Also, where were the figures I wanted? Where was my Green Lantern doll? My Doctor Fate? Or any of my beloved characters from comic books and TV?!

Happily, nowadays, things have changed. Apparently, due to the demands of people like myself, you can get pretty much any toy of a beloved character from your youth you want. The quality and attention to detail is top-notch, too. You should see the Doctor Who figures Perfect Wife gave me for Valentine's! I even have an H.R. Pufinstuf figure, which I would have payed a year's allowance for, back in the day.

Yes, I love toys, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. If you have something you love, go ahead and embrace it.

As long as it is legal in your jurisdiction.

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Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I Wanna Be a Producer!

I had had a wonderful experience last weekend. Perfect Wife and I, and her Perfect Parents, went to see a community theatre production of Mel Brook's musical, "The Producers". It was fabulous.

I was a bit leery of going, as PW and I had seen the original production on Broadway, which was wonderful. At the time, I predicted that the show could NEVER be done in community theatre, as there was just too much talent required.

I have done quite a bit of community theatre work. It's quite fun. You meet new people, make friends, and get a little escape  from reality as you perform. You can also get a little ego boost from any laughter and/or applause you generate. There are downsides to doing a community theatre show, for the audience and the performers, though, and I have seen it  all: Fat people (or any other kind of people, myself included) who can't dance front-and-center during production numbers, directors casting their spouses or significant others in roles they are clearly not suited for, 10 minute set changes (during which you check your program and count the musical numbers left, in an effort to figure out how soon you can escape the theatre), backstage histrionics, backstage inappropriate romances, and oh, so much more.

So it was with great trepidation that I attended this show. There was NO WAY any local theatre group could pull this off! As it turned out, I had nothing to fear. Every element of the show was perfect, from sets to costumes to the lighting and especially the cast, who were spot-on perfect. 

It's a crap-shoot when you go to a community theatre show, I admit. You may waste 3+ hours of your life seeing a 40 year old blond Irish woman playing Maria in "West Side Story", or you could see a really talented group of people putting on an awesome production.

Just like we did the other day.

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Friday, February 6, 2009


We all have a bit of Kryptonite in our lives. For those of you not in the loop, Kryptonite is something you can't tolerate (Like Adam Sandler movies). It makes you feel weak and dizzy, and if you are exposed to it long enough, there's a chance it could kill you. Or at least make you uncomfortable. In the comic books, it's little chunks of Superman's hometown, the planet Krypton. They drifted to Earth after the destruction of Superman's home planet, and many a super-villain has used it to vex the Man of Steel over the years. It has a bad effect on him. He can't stand the stuff.

Everybody has their own personal Krytonite to annoy us. It could be the sluggish driver in front of us when we're in a hurry to get somewhere, or that person talking loudly on their cell phone in a public place. For me, my Kryptonite, the object that gets me feeling all nauseous and loose-limbed, is corn.

Yes, corn. I know that 99% of the population loves a nice big hunk of corn on the cob, or a heapin' helpin' of creamed corn, but I can't stand it.

Don't get me wrong; I love corn in its deep-fried diluted form. Fritos® are one of  my favorite snack treats. So is popcorn. I just can't stand the taste & texture of corn in its' natural state.

I can't even stand to see other people eat corn. To me, it sounds like they are munching on insects. Someday, I'll tell you the story of the day I was at a corporate picnic,  and a guy plunked down next to me with a giant ear of  corn, then buttered a piece of bread, and used it to butter the corn, then ATE THE BREAD! Oh, wait. I just did tell you the story.

They later found me in a port-o-potty in the fetal position.

To sum up this post; I don't care for corn. I'm sure there are some foods you don't care for, so leave a message in the comment section, and we'll return to this subject later.

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