Random Rantings

LONDON (Reuters) - James Blunt's "Goodbye My Lover" is the song most requested at British funerals and remembrance services, closely followed by Robbie Williams's "Angels," according to a survey released on Monday.

I guess that beats AC/DC's "Hells Bells"?
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NEW YORK (Reuters) - A canned energy drink called "Cocaine" being sold in New York grocery stores has infuriated the city's mayor who says its brand name celebrates the use of a dangerous drug.
Yes, we wouldn't want to do that. How about if you sold fake cigarettes and called them "Gasoline"?
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JAKARTA (Reuters) - Indonesian police have slapped a cordon around a huge landmark Banyan tree in the capital after members of a Muslim youth group attacked it to prove it had no special mystical powers.
It seems to be working. Thousands of people think a tree is mystical.
Jeje Zainudin, chairman of the United Islam Youth, said the group had carried out the attack to counter superstitions surrounding the tree. "It is not a matter of chopping down the tree but this is to counter a popular belief such as if (we) touch it, (we) will get sick or your cleaver will break."
Here's an idea. Chop it down and see what happens. Get back to me on that.
"When you believe in things you don't understand, then you suffer - Stevie Wonder
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Here's some entertainment for ya. Gay American former NJ Governor Jim McGreevey was supposed to appear on the Letterman show to read a Top Ten list, but ...



Tomorrow: It's another rousing Thursday Thirteen.

The Same-Old, Same-Old

Among the gory details of the Amish school shooting that were released in today's newspaper was a statement from Marie Roberts, the killer's wife.

She described him as a "loving spouse and a caring father, not a homicidal killer". That's odd, since the one thing he is is a homicidal killer. Isn't that always the way with these types of stories? Neighbors, friends and family describe the guy as a good man and an asset to society. Just once, I'd like to read something honest from the people who are supposed to know best.

Here’s a conversation I’d like to see printed in the newspaper:

REPORTER: What kind of guy was he?
NEIGHBOR: He was kind of an oddball. I used to see him in the back yard practicing ax throwing. It seemed a bit strange, since he was legally blind and all.

REPORTER: And you, ma’am, you were married to him for ten years. Ever notice anything out of the ordinary?
WIFE: Oh sure. He used to wake me up at night screaming like a banshee. And, he had an odd twitchy leg. Then, for no reason, he would run through the house yelling, “My pants! My pants!” I never did figure that out.

REPORTER: So, were you surprised to find out that he had planned this?
WIFE: No, not at all. In fact, I’m surprised it took him this long. But, he’s a procrastinator. I never did like that about him.
REPORTER: When did you start to notice the odd behavior?
WIFE: At the church during our wedding. He wore black combat boots and one of those helmets with the big spike at the top. Naturally, we made him take it off for the pictures. I thought about having the marriage annulled, but he wouldn’t have it … you know how those Druids are.

REPORTER: Of course. And you, sir … did you ever figure that your son would do such a horrible thing?
FATHER: Every day of my life. He was tortured from the day he walked into nursery school until he graduated high school. He vowed to get even. He would come home every day with his underpants around his neck and milk in his hair.

REPORTER: Wow. So, with all this latent hostility, why didn’t he ever go for help?
WIFE: We don’t have health insurance.

Now that, I could believe.

What's Wrong With People?

The population of the United States will hit the 300 million mark sometime this month. Thankfully, we are not at all alike. Sadly, the least among us make the most noise. Whether it is petulant football players, whining celebrities, corrupt politicians or just a random nut-case who decides that his life is best lived when acting out in the theater of life.

The details are still coming as fast as the bullets, but the short version is this (from Yahoo News):

NICKEL MINES, Pa. - A milk-truck driver carrying three guns and a childhood grudge stormed a one-room Amish schoolhouse Monday, sent the boys and adults outside, barricaded the doors with two-by-fours, and then opened fire on a dozen girls, killing three people before committing suicide.

At least seven other victims were critically wounded, authorities said.

It was the nation's third deadly school shooting in less than a week, and it sent shock waves through Lancaster County's bucolic Amish country, a picturesque landscape of horse-drawn buggies, green pastures and neat-as-a-pin farms, where violent crime is virtually nonexistent.

Most of the victims had been shot execution-style at point-blank range after being lined up along the chalkboard, their feet bound with wire and plastic ties, authorities said. Two young students were killed, along with a female teacher's aide who was slightly older than the students, state police Commissioner Jeffrey B. Miller said.

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The good news is that he committed suicide, but the view here is that he could have done that first and saved a lot of people a lot of agony.

Mostly, though, it makes me question the foundation of religion and what is left of my own faith. Why would a loving God allow something like this to happen to these, of all people? Or, is it the delicate balancing act that God plays with each of our lives? Random nut-cases were created by Him too, and I suppose they are permitted to act like nut-cases if need be, but what's the point?

And we shouldn't rule out the role of evil, which, if you follow politics at all, has been at work for longer than I care to remember.

In the end, I suppose it's just another of those circumstances of life that makes us wonder and ask "why", when in fact, we aren't supposed to know and probably shouldn't even be asking.

Now, I need to hurry and think of something irreverent and funny, because all this reality is wearing me thin.

My Tube

YouTube is like a big candy store for media addicts. There's a mixed metaphor for you. Type in a name and you'll find a video. I don't know where it all comes from, but it's there for us. They enable my addiction by providing the material. So far, it's free, which makes it even better.

I was searching out a Lewis Black bit about candy corn for kimmyk, and ran across about a hundred Lewis Black rants on all sorts of things - advertising, Rick Santorum, traveling, video games, decency and even hot dogs and rollercoasters.

Then, I found a little snippet of an interview he did on CNN to promote his book. Toward the end, he bitches about something that I've been bitching about for years - the junk at the bottom of the screen. I vented about it way back on April 6.

To his credit, he yelled loud enough that they actually took it off.

It started (as he says) during the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. A quarter of the screen taken up by junk. Are we supposed to be reading, watching or listening? It's too much, and it needs to stop. Notice how the host of the show (whoever he is) just laughs and, in so many words, says that there isn't a chance in Hell that CNN is going to stop annoying us with a giant banner and a crawl at the bottom.

Write a letter, send an e-mail. Make it stop.
Maybe Lewis can help.

For the Girls

Another of the ancillary effects of the Thursday Thirteen (am I dwelling?) are the responses I got to my rather quirky list of quirks. Although I wasn't surprised to find many comparisons to a certain Mr. Monk, I was interested in the response to one particular quirk.

The peeing in public.

Since almost all of the TT participants were women, allow me to educate my readership on the issues involved with men peeing both standing and in the company of other men. For me, it is the company that is the issue, as I have been peeing standing for almost five decades. As my female bloggers may not know, there are significant issues involved in peeing in the company of men. So much so, that it even as a medical term attatched to it.

Paruresis

...also known as pee shy, shy kidney, bashful bladder or shy bladder syndrome is a type of social anxiety disorder, that can affect both men and women, in which the sufferer is unable to urinate in the (real or imaginary) presence of others, such as in a public restroom.

How odd, I thought, since P-Shy was going to be my rapper name, but I digress...

The shy bladder comes in real (not) handy during concerts and other such events where large amounts of alcohol are consumed. In those cases, the public rest room is the only choice, and packed full of drunks as it is, it is difficult if not impossible to find a suitable condition to relieve oneself. So, in such instances, one prefers to watch the Dave Matthews Band while doing the pee-pee dance, while others think I am merely enjoying the music.
Those of us afflicted have found our own methods of avoidance, but among those listed in "official" web sites, I found this one particularly disturbing:
Treatment by reducing the level of privacy at which the condition triggers by indulging in graduated exposure therapy. This last can be achieved by sufferers working together at organized events known as workshops.

Workshops? Where I come from, those "workshops" are called Circle Jerks, and forgive me if I beg off, but it isn't part of my therapy to pee in an organization of like-minded sufferers, no matter what you call it. I'll suffer. Leave the pee groups to the weirdos, thank you.

Of course, as it is with any worthwhile affliction, there is an international group and an accompanying web site, listed here. There is even a store, with such things as "Do Public Bathrooms Make You Nervous" magnets and brochures, so you can broach the subject with your boyfriend/husband/partner with the aid of a distracting device.

The point is, (is there one?) that the next time you (the girls) are out with a guy on either the first date or the next of several, and he expresses some odd behavior when the subject of the rest room comes up, do not despair, it's not you - it's him.

You will have a difficult time getting him to discuss his affliction, since it isn't supposed to be manly to talk about it. Although, if you're asking me (and who is?) I think it is particularly manly to not want to pee in a group of men standing against a wall holding their little men in their fingers. If they elect the stall, it may be seen as "girly", and God forbid they are seen as girly.

So, you see girls, men have issues too.

I Feel Your Pain

In the aftermath of the tumult and glory that is the Thursday Thirteen, I found myself wondering about what I would post on Friday. The TT is a difficult act to follow, especially when one considers that it gifted me with over 100 unique visitors between late Wednesday and Thursday. To all who viewed and posted, thanks, even though some of you may not return until next Thursday. And thanks, Carmen, for the link to the little boxy thingy at the bottom. It was worth the effort.

Meanwhile, I scoured the news in search of a muse when, to my amazement, right there in my e-mail box was an ad for Abercrombie and Fitch, a store that I shop in when either drunk or stupid, since the prices of the clothes are way too much for my meager income and tastes. [My preference is the clearance rack at American Eagle or Aeropostale]. Sometimes the most obvious place becomes the last place we look.

The ad I received was for the new Abercrombie shirts for men and sweaters for women. I like shirts, so I'll take a look. The shirts for men looked reasonable enough, with the big stripes, big sleeves (big price tag) and phony collar to make us look as though we dressed up for a night of binge drinking. The illustration bore me out:

Then, at the bottom of the e-mail was the accompanying ad for the women's sweaters. Take a second and compare the men's shirts and the women's sweaters. I have not doctored or otherwise manipulated the images.

You already figured it out, right? The men's shirts look like they could wrap around a small car, while the women's sweaters appear waif-like, and look like they would be baggy on the hanger - or a stick.

Girls, I sympathize. I realize now that you cannot possibly conform to the impossibly high standards set for you by (a) corporate America or (b) the fashion industry.
Somehow, I think Abercrombie is saying that it's OK for guys to be fat and gooey, but girls, you'd better be thin and look like a number-two pencil, or else the gooey guys are going to look elsewhere.

Well, take it from me, a single guy who wants women to take care of themselves, but who also looks beyond the impossible standards set by the fashion Czars: Stop worrying so much.
I think regular readers know me well enough to know that I am not saying this to garner phony compliments from my female readers. I say it because the standards are ridiculous. So, if the purpose of this Blog thing is to gather and share ideas about life and its many twists, then allow me to share these words of wisdom, garnered from nearly 5 decades on this dying planet:

It's OK if you're not a size Zero. We'll like you if you are a regular person with thoughts and feelings, and not necessarily a stick-figure who disappears when turned sideways, Abercrombie and Fitch notwithstanding.

Maybe Eddie Bauer makes something for normal people?

Thursday Thirteen v.3

Thirteen Little Quirks
Don't Judge

1. Shaking Hands. I'm starting to get a little goofy about shaking hands. When a stranger shakes my hand, I am uneasy until I can find a chance to wash.

2. Door Handles. Likewise. I usually grip the handle someplace where I think others aren't. When I can, I push with my elbow or closed fist. I don't get sick much, either.

3. I trim my underarm hair. I think that's good for everyone involved.

4. Change. I almost never use change. If something is $1.01 and I have a nickel, they're not getting it. Take a penny, leave a penny? Go ahead, I have a change jar to maintain.

5. Penmanship and spelling. A high priority. If you saw my handwriting, you would know what I mean. Strangers compliment me on it. I look at it as both artwork and a courtesy to the people I'm communicating with that they can read and comprehend whan I'm doing. The downside is that I can never get away with anything based on not being able to read my handwriting.

6. Peeing in public. I can't stand at a urinal and pee if there's someone next to me. The whole ordeal strikes me as a bit odd - peeing against a wall a foot from another guy peeing against a wall. I use the stall.

7. I can go to concerts alone, but not movies. I suppose it's because movies can be viewed multiple times, but if I miss a concert, I can't see it again.

8. Wasting Food. I follow the buffet rule: Take what you want, eat what you take. I guess it's that "starving kids in Africa" trauma of my childhood, but I hate throwing food away.

9. Leftovers. But I never eat leftovers. Go figure.

10. The newspaper. I'm lost without my daily newspaper. Neither rain, sleet nor gloom of night ... It's old-school, but I still enjoy the written word on paper.

11. I have "gym sneakers" and "dress sneakers". Doesn't everyone? When the dress sneakers get ratty, they move to "gym" status, and are replaced. Maybe that's not a quirk, you tell me.

12. I iron T-Shirts. I use this odd Fabric Sizing product that is kind of like starch but not as starchy. I don't like the wrinkled look.

13. I walk fast. Faster than most, which makes it difficult to do the mall thing. I'm forever running up on people.

Charming or creepy? You make the call.