Happy New Year!

Wow, in just a few short days it’s going to be 2006. Woo, scary. Time does fly. Unless of course, you’re at work….or standing in a long line with all yer winter regalia on….or waiting to pee in a bathroom with only one stall.
Anyway, I thought it was time to make out a Hammy New Year’s Resolutions List – considering I’ve had a hiatus from New Year’s Resolutions for about…oh, twenty years.
So, here’s my TOP TEN list for the year 2006:

1. I resolve to stop buying my kids clothing one size to big, waiting for them to “grow into it”.
   
2. I resolve to e-mail less and send more cards to friends I want to keep in touch with.
   
3. I resolve to eat only the “good” chocolate and skip the calories eating the crappy stuff.
   
4. I resolve to cut people a little more slack. (Of course, I’ll still trash them like dogs on the gossip mill – I mean a girl’s gotta have some fun.)
   
5. I resolve to spend more time in Art Galleries and Museums, looking at beautiful things.
   
6. I resolve to plant more flowers and put a bird feeder in the yard this summer.
   
7. I resolve to attempt to keep up with the laundry.
   
8. I resolve to buy a book every month – in a subject or genre I would not, as a rule, read.
   
9. I resolve to get rid of the stuff around my house that I don’t use, don’t want or don’t like…and not replace them with anything.
   
10. I resolve to nix the plastic and start using old fashioned cash.

So, Resolutions anyone???? Come on, fess up.

Deja Vu all Over Again

Kids. I have two - girls, actually. This has its advantages of course - namely my house is still standing, which may not have been the case if I had a couple of boys. As you can well imagine, there are the disadvantages too. For one, they never stop talking. Never. They talk so much, and so often that as they grow they need to add more people into their social circle, just so they can continue to talk. My eldest daughter is a prime example of this. Typically she will disembark from the bus, yak and boss her little sister all the way up the driveway and into the house, where she will shed (literally) her coat with the backpack still attached by the coats arms onto the floor and (still talking) pick up the phone to call her friend down the street who is just getting off the bus and into the house herself. Once she finishes that conversation she then sits around the house waiting for one of three suitable opportunities to speak to me. Generally they are: when I have just sat down on the toilet, when I have just picked up the telephone, or when I am doing some extreme feat of mental or manual labor that requires exacting concentration so that I do not accidentally write out a check for my entire bank balance instead of the bill amount or become dismembered in some way. The conversation usually goes something like:

Scenario: Me, initiating one of the tasks above, after all of us have been home for two hours with both children in a television induced catatonia, neither one of them acknowledging I am alive since they’ve been home from school.

Daughter: “Mom, you know what I want for Christmas?! (This conversation, of course will take place in July) I want this thing, you plug it into the TV and it’s a game, it like a Mall thing, I’m not sure what it’s called but it’s at Target and it’s on sale, and there’s a coupon, in the book that they sent in the mail. Grandma gave it to me and I brought it home for you, OK Did ya see it, huh mom?, huh?”

Me: grunting “Oh, uh…. Yeah, honey…..hm-mm”

Daughter: “Mom, do you know if you do 01134 on a calculator and turn it upside down it says “hello”!? That’s reeeeeally cool. Look, you see?? Can you see it, huh?”


Me: “Hmm-mm. Uh, ….yeah…yeah…cool”

Daughter: “Mom, what would happen if someone who never drove before was driving and the gas was on E and they didn’t know what that meant and they thought it meant engage, what would happen? Mom, what does engage mean??”


Me: Heaving something really, really heavy and difficult or expensive to replace
“Uh… wh- what?”

Daughter: “If you were on a desert island and could only eat one food for the rest of your life would it be 1. Spaghetti 2. Stinky cheese or 3. Roasted pig.”


Me: Swearing and slamming something down
“&*^%$#@! Jesus Kee-Reist Almighty!” What is it with you kids!

Why is it NOBODY has ANYTHING to say to me until I sit on the toilet, pick up the gaddam telephone, or start doing something. Then everybody wants to talk. Why is that!?! Do you have to tell me all of this RIGHT NOW? Huh!

Hm-mm. Somehow, I seem to get a funny little déjà vu feeling whenever one of these exchanges takes place. (I also think I hear someone laughing….hm-mm…)

My Favorite Day: The Day After Christmas

Can I bitch about Christmas now?? Is it OK with ya’ll? (I’ll take that as a Yes.)

God, am I glad Christmas is over! The stress, the pressure and the bullshit.
Why? That’s all I want to know is why! Why do we put ourselves through this Hellishness every year? And Expensive Hellishness to boot.

I worked in the ER both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day this year. I can’t tell you how many people came in for Dumb Ass Stuff. Rashes. Rashes that they have had for days. A Cough, The Sniffles, A Stomach Ache. (Hasn’t anyone heard of Tylenol?? Or Rolaids?? How about Robitussin??) Amazing. Anything to have an excuse to get away from the Stress…and the disappointment. So much easier to seek the Great Escape of the Emergency Room than to face what is really going on. Then, of course, there’s all the people who dragged Grandma out of the Nursing Home, to prop her at the end of the Christmas Table (so that they won’t feel even guiltier than they already do for stickin’ her in a Nursing Home) who then call 911 when she’s exhibits any one of the hundreds of usual symptoms of chronic disease states that she possesses. So we have her blood drawn and analyzed, her chest X-Ray’ed, and her head Cat Scanned – all to find out the only thing she is suffering from is old age and dumb ass relatives.

But, for all those who manage to grit their teeth and stay the course at home, there’s the barrage of shitty, useless unwanted gifts to grin and bear. I’m so tired of getting gifts that are designed for people that "you don’t know very well, but feel obligated to give them something anyway". I don’t need anything – really. And anything I do need, I buy for myself. Anything I really WANT, no one is going to buy me anyway so, save yer money! Give it to charity, or better yet – pay off your credit cards with it and tell me about it later. I’ll be much happier for you…and for me.

But, no one wants to give it up. So, we have to keep on buying gifts for kids that have so much stuff it’s coming out their ears, adults who have absolutely no intention of using what you gave them, and don’t need it or want it anyway, and babies who would much rather play with the bows and the ribbons than the expensive overload of gifts that you just gave them.

To top it all off, the cherry on the sundae is all the religious in-fighting over what should and shouldn’t be said, done, printed, published, televised, put in the Town Square, put in the Public School, put in the Courthouse and sent out as an Official statement. Oy vey! It’s enough to start those crying statues of the Virgin Mary puking!

I say next year we all stay out of the stores and stay in our own homes and just chill. We don’t send cards with messages of any kind and we let everyone do their own thing without comment or criticism. We eat the food we would normally eat and forgo the extra 5 or 10 pounds, and we actually get a decent amount of sleep in the final week of December. We take all the money we would have spent – and pay off our debt, or stick it in the Savings Account. And finally, we take all the time and energy we would have exerted…and spend it curled up on the couch with our families or friends, watching a movie with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of beer. Then we could all get together sometime in February, when there's nothing to do any way, and there's far less stress and pressure to meet some imaginary standard set by Hollywood decades ago...
...So wadda ya’ll think??

Love and Peace,
One Seriously Baked Christmas Ham

Merry Christmas Bloggers!

As Christmas nears (or whatever it is that you do or don’t celebrate this time of year) I have a few little Hammy wishes I would like to bestow on all who read this blog spot:

May your bills this year shrink like a cheap linen shirt,
May your Boss never find out on you, all the dirt,
May the Hot Guy or Gal say Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes!,
May you pass all your papers, exams and your tests,

If King George gets called back to Hell,
May Old Cheney die first,
So our experience in the White House
Doesn’t actually get worse.

May your blog spots be funny, or witty or cute,
May you pick a winning lottery ticket and give work the boot,
May old Santa find Your roof, and may it not need any Fixing,
May your tax refund be fat, and your return not need Nixing,
May your waistline get a little looser and your crotch a little tight,
May you dance on old New Year’s all through the night.

If your loved one’s at War may they come home real soon,
May us Middle Class warriors actually experience a boon,
May you get all your wishes for love and for health,
Because when all is said and done, that is the true wealth.

Merry Blogging Christmas and
Happy Blogging New Year

Peace & Love,
Baked Hammy – with Pineapple and Lots of Little Glazed Cherries

Boomers!

It seems to be the season for the Hammy household to take the plunge into the twenty-first century, what with gaming Cubes, and blogs and all. I decided to finally upgrade our TV to a satellite dish – complete with 165 channels of monthly crap, mainly to appease my daughter, Ham Jr. # 1, who was apparently bored with the one channel that she could watch on our broadcast rate cable package. Now, I really don’t have loads of sympathy when she is whining that tune. She’s talking to a person who grew up with 3 local channels and – if the wind was blowing just right and you used enough aluminum foil on the rabbit ears, you also could pick up the Public Television station and 1 fuzzy Canadian station. I managed to survive. But I gave in and now she has the choice of Disney, Nick and Cartoon Network along with 4 or 5 others that run programs that don’t make me cringe too badly.

Disney is not just an interesting power monger of a company; it is also an interesting channel to watch – mainly to see who is on it. The Baby Boomers ostensibly are insistent upon dragging their old, aging rock stars (at least those who have not overdosed and died) around into all forms of media. While Disney was showing some upcoming previews of Holiday TV shows, who should appear crooning “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” with his skinny scrawny pucker lipped self? None other than Steven Tyler, one half of the infamous Toxic Twins. First it was Ozzy and Family (on a reality TV show no less) and now it’s a Toxic Twin on Disney. Shit. When the hell are the Baby Boomer’s going to die already??? It’s bad enough that the programming on most of the major radio stations consist of alternating Pink Floyd with Led Zeppelin and one of the biggest TV sit-com hits has been “That 70’s Show”. But now Retro Television Network has dragged up all the old chestnuts like: Leave it to Beaver, The Brady Bunch, Hogan’s Heroes and My Three Sons. Some of these shows were bad twenty years ago – let it go already! And, if all that wasn’t bad enough Target has a line of furniture and accessories with Brown and Orange color schemes, and Vogue magazine just printed an article on the “new” Platform Shoe look.

Why can’t the Boomer’s just drive off to Sun City in their PT Cruiser’s with a trunk full of Hair Dye, Diapers and Polygrip? What a self absorbed generation! Move out of the F**King way already, you had your day! I know, I know – your thinking, “What’s the Harm? Let them relive their youth!” No. I’m telling you – it starts with the media and then it seeps into every aspect of daily life. These people will stop at NOTHING. Just wait. When you start seeing Afro’s come back and Powder Blue Leisure suits with Polyester Disco shirts you’ll wish you had listened to me.

Peace Man!
Ham-N-Eggs

The Cube That Saved Christmas

Well it is definitely “The Season” because the Ham-ster has found her way in to the dreaded “Mall”. “The Mall” falls into the category of “Things That Make My Life More Complicated” similar in fact, to “pop”. The barrage of stimuli gives the Ham-meister a headache, and I really hate using the “Public Toilet”. (It must be a family trait).
But, a shopping we must go!

My kids still believe in Santa, although I doubt that will last much longer. While it is fun, it does put the pressure on every year. The deal is “Mom” gives all those practical gifts like clothes and DVD’d, books and Craft Toys, etc. While “Santa” gives a big, impractical and often expensive gift that “Mom” would never buy.
For example, one year it was the Barbie Townhouse, complete with two sets of furniture and the car. However, this year “Santa’s” heat bills are outrageous and overtime ain’t what it used to be, and well…”Santa” is broker than usual.

There really is no big ticket item this year either. It certainly isn’t like the “Talking Elmo” days is it?? Thankfully, “the girls” aren’t bigtime gamers, so I have been spared the request for the X Box 360. However, my daughter did mention some “cube thing” that I dutifully trudged out looking for.

Being a “non-gamer” type of Ham, I grabbed the nearest pimple faced young man who seemed relatively idle and asked for a quick 101 course on “gaming”. After ascertaining the subtle, but distinct differences between the Cube, the Station and the Box and after a quick perusal of all the horrible violent games they were associated with, I decided the “Box” would be the best way to go. Alas! The Box package was a tad bit outrageous – making the gas bills look like a bargain, so I did what any chocolate deprived, over-stimulated coffee craving Ham-ster would do. I called Nukie for advice. Nukie directed me to a “game place” (sensible directions having been subsequently obtained by Mrs. Nukie) and I walked in to the Shangri La of gaming games. I asked a less pimply, but equally knowledgeable gaming girl store clerk to “hook me up” with a package of some kind, and after several painful contortions of trading off games that were making my hair stand on end, and juggling various controllers and accessories we headed to the check out counter only to find out they did not accept checks! Fatigue, lack of chocolate and too much coffee and now sans the appropriate plastic as well, I headed home.

The next day, I decided to trade the game world for socks. Nice sensible, easy to figure out socks. I went to Target. A store that I could understand. Well, Lo and Behold. What should greet my bloodshot little Hammy eyes but the Store Circular, advertising a perfectly bundled package for The Cube, that included TWO controllers, all the accessories I needed AND, best of all – a game that didn’t make my hair stand on end. I headed to the Electronics Department, still a little unsure, but figuring this: If I went there and they had one I would take it as a sign from God, and jump into the gaming world and not look back. If they were sold out, I would also take that as a sign from God, and head to the sock department.

In the Electronics Department I found a suitably nerdy enough young man who I knew would know EXACTLY everything I would need, and where to find it. I could almost hear the Holy Choir singing as Nick, the sales kid took it out from behind the locked glass-doored cabinet. “It’s our last one.” He said. And…there it was….like the Holy Grail….THE CUBE. Intact in it’s cleverly marketed bundled package with a nice decent Mario brothers game to boot. Surely, it was a sign. I bought it. “Santa” and dare I say, Christmas has been “saved”.

Civilized Barbarity

It seems Ariel Sharon, the Prime Minister of Israel has suffered a mild stroke. That's too bad, really. I happened to be watching CNN during a break at work. CNN - has long ago deemed itself the arbiter of truth and as such, graciously provides us with all the news that fits into interesting sound bites. I found the "celebrations" going on in some parts of the Middle East more than a little disturbing. (As ready with an opinion as the Ham-ster is, I'm not going to even open that can of worms.) But, what I really find is such a disturbing trend, is the celebratory actions some people around the world display at other's serious misfortunes. It reminds me of the "celebrations" that took place in some parts of the world when the news of the Twin Towers was broadcast.

Ya know, I have my political favorites and those that I seriously do not like just like everyone else. But with all that said, I really wouldn't be celebrating if say...Old King George stroked out, or had a massive coronary. Sheesh. I mean, I won't shed any tears when Satan's spawn leaves office, but what the hell! Any time someone has something really horrible happen to them - even if we don't like them - celebrating those misfortunes goes against the hallmark of what is decent, human and civilized. I don't know. It really seems like there has been a huge shift that has taken place on this planet. People are really barbaric, and cruelty has become so open, so vicious. What is it? Is it really the TV? Is it the video games? I mean, where is the compassion - or at least the empathy??

I have a friend in California who had e-mailed me an article about a particular statue of Mary (You know, The Virgin) apparently "crying" tears of blood in a Vietnamese church in Sacramento. I had already been following the story and asked him what he thought about it. He replied back that he wouldn't be too surprised if it was true (with the state of the world and all) and then added - "I'm surprised she's not throwing up!"
It's pretty F**king funny, but true. Man, oh man.

Blogging

Nukie dropped the NPR “This American Life” blog disc off to me last night.
It’s fabulous. What I noticed first was the great sixties music mix, and then I noticed I was actually hearing my brothers voice. I hadn’t heard my brother talk so much in my entire life. I have to explain, his whole blog thing really took me by surprise. I never realized my brother had so much to say. I always figured there must be a lot going on inside his brain, because he is funny and intelligent, and any time I have heard him speak…which isn’t often, I have to say the conversations have been brief – but enjoyable. Its strange. My family is one of those families that seem entirely made up of people who you don’t know very well. It’s an odd thing, and I never really liked it, but there never seemed to be too much that I could do about it. Anyway, blogs….I had to think about them while I listened to the stories. I actually felt a little bond with all those people – some of whose blogs I had piggybacked into reading, courtesy of Nukies links. I was surprised “Her Daddy’s Eyes” had the voice that she did, and thought Kimmyk sounded a lot younger than I had thought of her, in my mind. He sort of opened up this little world to me – one that I knew existed, but had not found a way into yet. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t thought of it. Anyone who likes to write and is even a modicum of opinionated is sure to seek out a blog site sooner or later…it was just that I wasn’t very computer literate and I didn’t think I could start one up easily. Then, of course, it happened. I somehow involved an old friend of mine, long since moved out of state…Queen Snarfetta, who likes to write…and rant…right along with me. The Queen has closed her site. The piece that she reads on the CD…odd…it was a lot like her in a way. Well, she said the blog had served its purpose. I e-mailed her back. I missed the site. I said by the time I said everything I needed to say I would have been dead for two weeks. It’s probably true. Nukie said (jokingly?) that I would regret starting it; I kind of understand that, as well. But, I don’t regret it. Sometimes it feels like I have volunteered to take home the school hamster over the summer break. If I get too busy, I get a little twinge of guilt. (“Well, really you should just check it at least…make sure it’s still OK….you don’t have to write anything…just at least take a look, then you can sort the laundry.”) It fits in better than I thought it would. Between work and the kids, my classes and…whatever else drags me around through the day. I thought about a recent post of “I Have No Name” where she talks about having your blog “discovered” by the outside world, your job, or family. I don’t know. I don’t think it would change anything now. I had to think, well why am I really doing this? Is it because I’m so pissed off at the Middle Classes economic slide into impending poverty? Is it really that I’m so sick and tired of Medicaid abuse and hearing about how elderly people choose between medical care or food? Is it really the disgust with the political dancing that allows the overseas job shunting, the pension gutting, and the hikes in fuel and goods that strangle everybody on a daily basis? Do I really care if people care? Do I care that I care? Well, yeah. I do. But that’s not the whole story. I realize my laptop has become some extension of me, some way to recover an essence of who I am, or was, or maybe think I am? BC – Before Children I thought I had a pretty good idea of who I was, and if I didn’t, it didn’t matter because I had the luxury of time and space. AC – After Children, things all changed. That’s how I classify my life now. BC and AC. Things became…fragmented. I felt like suddenly I needed to hang on to myself, the things…about myself…with both hands, so that they wouldn’t get stripped away. You can get lost in the title “Mom”. Everything changes. This blog….well, I guess it is a way of remembering myself to myself. And maybe along the way I can meet some interesting people, maybe I can even change the world a little.

Whose Harmony??

I don’t want to copy New York Moments blog spot but I had signed up for an online dating thing earlier this summer. Needless, to say I am having about the same luck as she is, only my dates don’t want to pee their pants in front of me, and (so far) don’t have metal plates in their heads. Still, some guys I have managed (with all my years of experience to guide me) to screen out right online. For instance, their was Dave, who listed his main attributes as “religious” and that he could not live with out someone who was “saved”. Been there, done that. I just let my list of favorite things, such as “Huge fan of Harry Potter Books and Movies” and “Big Reader of Metaphysical Subject Matter” screen that one out for me. Next was Mark, whose main thing seemed to be “Finding a woman who was sexually experienced and willing to try new things”. For some reason, I kept hearing this refrain from an old Frank Zappa song…..something about doing “an Hour on the Tower of Power.” Needless to say, Mark got the kiss-off too.
Well after about 2 months of nothing, today I get a notice that “I have been matched.” Mr. Wonderful is named Gary, and he lists the most important thing he is looking for as, “Respectfulness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” No lie. Eighteen exclamation points. I counted.
Gary also states the first thing I will notice about him is his “Intleelligence” His spelling, not mine. But it gets better! The one thing he wishes people would notice about him is…his “humbleness” Maybe he is humble, that one was followed by only 9 exclamation points. The apex of Gary’s profile (according to him) is his reading plan to improve himself. His “program” consists of rotating one fiction novel, followed by one historical book, then one “CLASSIC” novel. Emphasis his, not mine. Now, what if the “CLASSIC” novel happens to be fiction as well? And if the novel is “historical” does that count for all three at once? Personally, If I was the least little teeny tiny bit interested in Gary, one thing that would definitely be the deciding factor is the most influential person in Gary’s life…it’s….John Denver. (Like NY says, can’t make this stuff up).

Yeah. Well, better a single slice of Ham than full of baloney….

Peace & Love,

Ham

Job Interview Questions

I had a job interview the other day. It actually wasn’t a job I even wanted, having applied for it on a lark, but that’s a long dull story. The interesting part was the “interview” or I should say the interviewer. The questions they ask on interviews to assess your…I don’t know what? Competency? Threshold for violence?? Pliability??? Whatever it’s designed to test, the questions are inane.

What is your greatest strength? What is your greatest weakness? What would your co-workers say about you? What do you consider your biggest accomplishment? Where do you see yourself in five years? What do you hope to accomplish in your lifetime?

I would love – just once – to answer these questions the Hammy way!

What is your greatest strength? “Um, that I don’t want to rule the world aaaand I’m not a greedy evil bastard?”

What is your greatest weakness? “Well, it’s probably that fact that I consider the vast majority of people mindless slaves of the system who exist to annoy and irritate me!”

What would your co-workers say about you? “That I’m an opinionated ball-buster….with a heart.”

What do you consider your biggest accomplishment? “Um, probably the fact that I haven’t strangled the shit out of one of the many assholes I’ve run across in my lifetime.”

Where do you see yourself in five years? “Um, well…unless I win the lottery, or land a rich old husband…probably…doing what I’m doing now…only…five years older.”

What do you hope to accomplish in your lifetime? “Well, um…being able to retire and not have to eat cat food…and…. reaching the end of my life without having to wear diapers again.”

Yeah. Truth – not a hot commodity in today’s world.
Peace & Love, Ham-ster

Pop

A recent excursion down the “junky foods” aisle of my local food retailer put the Ham-ster in a bit of a tail spin. The task at hand was to purchase a bottle or two of “pop” to go along with a small assortment of cold cuts, cheeses and rolls for a lunch session with a couple of my “group project” people at UB. (Group projects will someday be a blog rant, I’m sure.) Now, the ham-meister doesn’t drink pop. So believe me, was I in for a shock when trying to purchase what used to be known as a “cola”. I know “the girl’s” that were coming over drink that brown liquid, but I couldn’t remember if they were Coke fans or Pepsi fans. I naively thought, “Oh, I’ll just buy a liter of each.”

In the “Coke section” there was: Coca-cola Classic, Caffeine-free Coca-cola Classic, Coca-Cola Zero, Diet Coke, Diet Coke with Lime, Cherry Coke and Diet Coke Cherry.

The “Pepsi section” had: Pepsi, Pepsi One, Diet Pepsi, Caffeine-free Diet Pepsi, Pepsi Wild Cherry, Diet Pepsi Wild Cherry, Diet Pepsi Vanilla, Diet Pepsi Twist and Diet Pepsi Lime.

The ham-ster was confused. When did cola become so complicated? Now, if it’s one thing the ham-ster doesn’t like its things that fall into the category of, “Things That Make My Life More Complicated”. After about two minutes my brain started to hurt, so I left with a liter bottle of Store Brand Cola. Problem solved.

I can’t help but think…if we as a society, put as much thought into a social problem - any social problem…as we do “pop” we probably wouldn’t have half the situations we have today.
Hm-mm. Nuff said.


But…it’s just my onion pi.
Peace & Love, Ham-burger

Yee Ha! The Semester is Over

I am just so bursting with happy vibes today that it's frightful. Maybe it's because I turned in my final UB papers and the Fall semester is finally over, but as I left the South Campus I just couldn't help but notice how beautiful the architecture is on that campus. Once I got home and changed into my sweats I listened to the lovely silence the kids leave behind once they load on to the school bus. (Not that I don't love the daily racket...but still, "silence is golden" must have been coined by a parent.) I thanked God for the fact I can wrap myself in a clean warm comforter and sip a cup of tea in my own darn house, thank you very much, and tap away on my laptop, all of those ideas thoughts, feelings and OPINIONS! without fear of being dragged off to "the attitude adjustment center". (At least not yet, anyway!) I'm grateful for the fact I can take a hot shower in clean water, and thankful I know what it feels like to have a full stomach (uh, maybe I have that feeling a little too often). But G*ddamn! Sometimes ya just get the feeling, "Shit! ain't it great to be alive!" I guess today is my day. If I felt even better I might even shout out "God save the King!"....naw, that 'id take a few handfuls of Prozac before I'd say that. More like "God, save us from the King." (wink, wink). Hope ya'll get that feeling once in a while yerself. Peace & Love, Hammy.

Political correctness

Wow! The right winger's have really got their collective shorts in a knot over the White House Christmas card. Not that I care who is kicking G.W.'s ass - just as long as somebody is giving him a hard time it makes my day a little brighter. But man, when is the war over nomenclature going to stop in this country? The fundamentalists are pissed because the card says "Happy Holiday's" instead of "Merry Christmas". Sheesh. It reminds me of the time my daughter came home from school with a flyer thanking all the parents who volunteered to help with the "Special Person's Day" party they had. I sat there scratching my head thinking, "What did I miss?" and "What the hell is "Special Person's Day" anyway?" Well, it took me a while, but I finally realized they were talking about VALENTINES DAY! or what used to be called SAINT Valentines Day. God forbid we should use the word SAINT, it might piss off an atheist, or somebody who objects. But now, we can't even mention ol' Valentines name?? Who the hell is going to object to that! We are a nation of fools. Just so ya'll don't think I've gone soft, I'm not shedding any tears for George, but for a guy who has the impossible job of being politically correct to EVERYBODY, he should have realized that the inside greeting should have read:

Season's Greetings, Happy Holiday's, Blessed Winter Solstice, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukhah, Prosperous Kwanzaa, Great Ramadan and Bah Humbug! - Peace and Love From King George, Laura and the two Party Girls. P.S. Shiva Loves You!!!

Regardless, I'm sure somebody would still bitch.

As you may have noticed, I don't sweat over Political Correctness.
Like the great George Patton used to say, "F**K 'Em if they can't take a joke!"

But then again...it's just my onion pi.

Let's Compare The (lesser of?) Two Evils

1. Former Dictator -----------------------Current Dictator
2. Eliminated Political Opponents------------Hanging Chads!
3. Tortured Prisoners at Abu Ghraib---What a Coincidence!
4. Egomaniacal and Insane-------Also a Coincidence!
5. Believes His Own Propaganda------------------Ditto.
6. Lived in Luxury While Most Starved-----Heading that way!
7. Had Terrorists to do his dirty work-----Has Karl Rove
8. Iraqui's had "Uncle Saddam"-----We have "Uncle Sam"
9. Promotes Religious Fanaticism--Can You Say John Roberts?
10. Suppressed Women's Rights---Nominated Samual Alito
11. They have Terrorists----------We have the CIA
12. Won't Go Away----------------(Sigh) Ditto.

But...it's just my Onion Pi

Happy Pearl Harbor Day!!

Aunt Helen

The extended family seems to be dropping like flies. Friday night was another funeral, this time for one of the aunts on my mothers side; the formidable Aunt Lola. Aunt Lola was a “sister-in-law” as she married one of the two brothers in my Mother’s family. For the most part, the “in-laws” seem to be going first. So far the total is In-Laws 4: Family Members 0. My Mother’s older sister, Auntie Helen offered to watch my kids, so I wouldn’t have to take them along and worry about “traumatizing them”. (This way there is plenty of trauma room left that the rest of the family who are still living can make use of.) Afterward I sat down to have a nice cup of tea with my Aunt Helen. What I like most about my Aunt Helen is her complete disregard for any dignified auntie roles she is supposed to play. She utilizes swear words and tells dirty jokes with surprising ease. She is trim and still pretty shapely at eighty years old. She also has a very liberal view of sex and an interesting way of looking at life in general especially marijuana use – of course this may have more to do with the fact her son’s both smoke it – and I know she tried it once herself. I don’t think she claimed “she never inhaled” either. Good old Aunt Helen. She was telling me a story about her husband, my Uncle Russell, who has Parkinson’s and is on the usual assortment of medications for that particular ailment. One thing that I wasn’t aware of is the meds make you hallucinate. Apparently it’s pretty common. So she was telling me all about my Uncles hallucinations, and how the doctor’s advice was for my Aunt to go along with them. She told me that one day they were watching TV in the living room and when they went into the kitchen for lunch my uncle walked downstairs into the family room, turned on the TV and a light and left the room. My Aunt tells me she said, “Russ, would you rather go into the family room to watch TV instead?” And my Uncle says “No.” she continues with, “Well, why did you turn on the TV and light?” And he says, “Well, that guy down there wanted to watch TV, so I turned the light on for him too.” So she tells me she went down and turned the TV and light off and comes back up and says, “I told him to go in the living room and watch TV instead.”
The visit was really nice. I like my aunt Helen. At one point we started talking about the funeral. The problem with affairs such as weddings and funerals is there is a defined script that we are all expected to read from and sometimes it’s hard to forget that. For example, during the conversation about Aunt Lola’s funeral, I said to my Aunt Helen, “She looked good.” This was “expected” but the problem was that my Aunt Lola had died in Las Vegas and was cremated before being brought back here. I realized my error when my Aunt Started to give me a quizzical look as the words rolled out of my mouth. Fortunately, at the same time she was looking at me in that strange way, a little voice in the back row of the peanut gallery in my brain called out, “Hey, Einstein…Lola was in a small closed box!” So I smiled and added, “….Er, in the photo…they had of her. You know, the wedding picture…of ah, …her and Uncle Carmen.” I was lucky, the save was good. Whew! The dangers of those social scripts. “Well” my Aunt Helen said, “She never liked us anyway.” Good old Aunt Helen.

The New Toilet

Well, the plumber finally came. So now I have a new toilet. Unfortunately it’s a “low flow” toilet, which means I’m either going to have to see little bits of toilet paper floating around in the bowl all the time, or flush twice – which in my estimation negates the whole purpose of a “low flow” toilet in the first place.

When I went to pick it up I asked the guy in the plumbing department at Home Depot what he would suggest, since the toilets in stock ranged from $29 to about $600. He pointed to a rather innocuous looking model and said with a hint of reverence, “This is our most popular model.” It was under two hundred bucks and looked like it could bear a fat ass or two, so I said I would take it.

When the plumber finally arrived he looked at the toilet I picked up and said with a faint hint of reverence, “Ah, the Kohler Wellington, that’s their most popular model.”

One good thing about having a new toilet, is I won’t have to continue yelling out “Jiiiiiggle the Haaaandle!!!” from wherever I am in the house…trying to yell over the TV to get their attention…that will save my voice a little. This way I can yell about the really important things.

What’s weird about getting a new toilet is that the whole neighborhood knows about it, partly because the old toilet is sitting at the curb, looking a tad obscene. ( Like some college fraternity prank, it sits there in all of its obviousness. I mean, it’s not like we all don’t use one, but it’s not like we really want anyone to KNOW we use one.) And if that weren’t proof enough, right next to it sits the new box.

I can just see Glady’s across the street looking out the window, “Frank, Frank look, they got a new toilet. Oh, and it’s a Kohler Wellington – the most popular model.”

So, this morning while I was brushing my teeth in the “big people’s bathroom” I wandered over to the “little people’s bathroom” to look at the new toilet. Later on Archie came over to look at the new toilet too. “Ya better make sure those kids use less paper, fer cryin’ out loud. The other day they went through HALF a roll, I tell ya. Alrighty, I’ll see ya later. Call yer Mother.”

Yep.

Good thing I don’t have the room for a bidet.