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Another of my jabs at the way people do things, but should change because the way they do things doesn't make sense.

There are a number (a large number) of things that I do that either alienate or bother people. Personal quirks and odd "rules" about life and things that people either never think about or don't want to think about. One of them routinely presents itself at the local liquor store, which I visit on an all-too routine basis. There are two cashiers, separated by a small aisle but no distinct separating dividers. Normally, the store is busy, because we're big-time alcoholics here in Jersey. When both cashiers are occupied, my habit is to straddle the lines and avoid choosing one over the other. I feel it is within my rights as a customer to do so, and you're not going to convince me otherwise. Last night, there I was, standing in my place. Feet shoulder-width apart with my six-pack of Victory Golden Monkey in hand. It's a fine product. The customer to my left had a cart full of stuff. Mostly that crappy light beer and some snacks. Obviously single and ...

Baseball in January.

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One of the cool things about my new position at work is that I'm more on my own than I was before. As such, when the World Series trophy is on display at a nearby restaurant, I am free to take an extended lunch break and take a gander. Chickie's and Pete's is the big-time local sports bar franchise. There are a few of them, and the one in Egg Harbor Township is the newest, I think. The trophy made a stop there today at 1:00pm, with Phillies broadcaster Scott Franske. As expected, the place was jammed. I got there just before one and had to shoehorn my way through the crowd to get close to the thing. My aversion to large crowds and a minor case of claustrophobia made my visit brief. At one point, I entertained thoughts of actually eating lunch there, but one look at the place and those thoughts went out the window - if I could find one. The Phanatic was there - natch - and here, he takes the time to embrace a fan. At one point, he hoisted his shirt up to block my c...

Now, let's absorb some local color by reading about a Philadelphia sports team.

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The playoffs. And not just any playoffs - the NFL playoffs . The local team, the Eagles , is still involved ( are still involved). They're playing the Arizona Cardinals, who most people don't give a snowball's chance in Hell of winning on Sunday. Most people around here don't anyway. I'm not one of them. The Cardinals scare me a little, mostly because most people around here don't give them a snowball's chance of winning on Sunday. That doesn't mean I'm not rooting for the Eagles, it just means that I have a healthy respect for the opponent. The Eagles have been here before. "Here" being the NFC Championship game. For my non-sports fans, it's the game where the winner goes to the Super Bowl - the game with the office block pool. This is their fifth trip under large head coach Andy Reid. Three times they have lost, and on at least two of those occasions, the people around here didn't give a snowball's chance in Hell...

Now this is something I would watch.

Our long national nightmare begins anew tonight, as "American Idol" starts what seems like its 50th season on television - but it's really only the eighth. Critics are wondering if the addition of a fourth judge and some other program modifications will kill the franchise. One can only hope. Meanwhile ... AUSTIN, TEXAS – "American Idol" wants an Austin strip club to take it off. The company that owns the popular television show sued in federal court to stop the weekly "Stripper Idol" contest at Palazio Men's Club. FremantleMedia North America also wants to seize Palazio's profits from the amateur stripping contest. Just what FreemantleMedia and the Idol producers need ... more money. Don't you think that, at some point the producers would be happy to have most of America by the short hairs, making money hand over fist? No, now they have to kill the rest of us. "Defendants are infringing upon FremantleMedia's trademark rights,...

Musical interlude

They're here.

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I got a letter in the mail today. It isn't often that I get letters in the post, what with e-mail and text messaging. I wondered if it was a stranger sending me a check or returning that ATM card that I'd lost two months ago. It was a handwritten letter addressed to Dear Neighbor. It went on: Most people will readily admit that along with some happiness, we also face a lot of problems. No argument there. Many are being weighed down by the stress of living in this fast paced world. When pressures of life get us down, we need the comfort of a willing and supportive listener. Finding someone to turn to can be a challenge. I suppose that's why the sender was facilitating my quest with a suggestive letter. That is why I've enclosed this tract that discusses who we can turn to in times of trouble. The tract was one of those hand-out pamphlets that we've all seen decorating urinals and floors across America. Closer examination found that it came from the Watch Tower ...

What day is it?

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The other stop on last night's mall walk was a calendar store. Calendar stores have a limited life-span, and this one was only 6 days into the new year, and prices were cut by 50%. There can't be much to say for a product whose asking price is halved in less than a week. Bananas last longer. I'd figure to have to wait until at least June to get half-price calendars, but by then the Christmas store would be moving in. Last night, the Christmas store was packing up, having finished its post-holiday 50% off sale. What schmuck pays full price for that stuff? There were a lot of calendars. Most of the wall hanging ones were $12.99, and the little desk-top ones were ... $12.99 ... Something is wrong here. (By the way, what's 50% off of $12.99?) And you don't see too many of those 18-month calendars anymore, do you? Somebody figured out what a boneheaded idea that was. Give people less of a reason to buy a calendar. Good one. I wondered how those people replaced their c...

iCarumba!

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On my visit to the local shopping mall tonight, iSaw an iPod vending machine at Macy's. Actually, it was a Sony vending machine, because inside was a PSP, camera, headphones and all of those various iPod accessories that iPod owners are told that they can't live without. iHave always felt that iCan live without an iPod, but for some reason (known only to the Sony marketing people) iFound myself strangely drawn to this machine. iDon't particularly desire an iPod, but seeing it in a vending machine made me want one. iWondered how many of them they sell and why it seemed like it would be more fun to buy one this way than to interact with a human. However, after iStarted touching the screen and found out that the high-capacity ones are still $250, iRealized why the machine shouldn't influence my spending habits. Sure, they had the little 1 gigabyte mini (that iWould probably lose in the laundry) but that seems to me like a gateway iPod, and iWould soon be spending the two...

Cuddle up with Obama.

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As we saw when the Phillies won the World Series, everything is for sale. Commemorative items up the yinyang were made "celebrating" the Phils' dramatic post-season run. You aren't a fan if you don't have a World Series flag for your car or a set of pint glasses with the logo. For the record (as if it matters) I have a hat that says "2008 World Champions." That's it. I was at the games. I'll remember just fine. Now, the consumer suck-fest has set its sights on Barack Obama's inauguration. The fine gang at QVC are leading the way. Surprised? Among the items QVC has been selling since the election are a Barack Obama stamp collection, with stamps from Liberia, Sierra Leone, Grenada, St. Vincent and The Grenadines ($38.88). One set has an Obama-Biden half dollar coin and a 1939 stamp depicting George Washington taking the first oath of office ($23.75). An Obama throw blanket is marked down from $41 to $36.84 . Try to spend that Biden half do...

The many manifestations of suffering.

Head colds are the worst. My nose started tickling on Saturday, but I chose to ignore it, even though I knew exactly what was coming on Sunday. To paraphrase J. Peterman, “My head is one gargantuan monkey fist.” It’s a good excuse though - “I have a cold.” It can get you out of doing a lot of stuff you’d otherwise not do. The downside is that my lunch is tasteless. “Oh, I’m sorry – I’m really fighting this head cold.” we say - as though we can fight them. I bought some liquid Tylenol and those Sudafed pills that look too small to work. (Which is probably why they don't) Now, I’m drinking water like crazy trying to fight off the full-body dry-out. That I can fight. The cold is another matter. Getting up in the morning is a bitch. Lying horizontally brings all the junk to my head, and the first half hour is spent re-learning how to breathe. Nothing works right until I get into the shower and let the hot water steam me loose. I used to be able to use my nose. Now, I have to brea...

"Doctor" must be an honorary title.

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LOS ANGELES, January 3 (UPI) - An overdose of heroin and morphine caused the death of Andre Young Jr., son of U.S. rapper Dr. Dre, the Los Angeles County Department of Coroner says. Coroner spokesman Larry Dietz confirmed to People magazine on Friday that the death of the 20-year-old Young has officially been ruled an accidental overdose . Sheesh. You'd think that a kid whose father was a doctor would have a better grasp on the use of drugs. Go figure. Blogger rule number 1. When all else fails, post a photo of your beloved pet doing something cute. In this case, Kitty has found a place in the sun in a not-all-that-cold day. Still, you can't blame the guy for wanting to sit someplace warm in January. I have no idea where the phrase "dumb animals" comes from. He's smarter than most people I know - which probably doesn't say much for most people I know.

WARNING: This may be offensive to people over the age of 75.

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This is the way my local cable company is promoting next month's switch to digital TV. A smiling senior citizen. I suppose it's because that is the demographic that is most frightened by new technology. That has to be the reason, because for everything else, they use kids, young adults or turtles. Technology scares people of that generation. That's strange because they are the generation that has seen the greatest advances. My mother was born in 1924. She has lived through 84 years of technological advances too numerous to list here. Suffice it to say, everything from television to air conditioning. Whenever something changes or something new comes about, it's always old people who have the most difficult time with it. When the power went out, her VCR would blink 12:00 until I could get over there to set the time. Now, she has a DVD player that automatically re-sets, so she always knows what time it is. They are the generation who has undergone the biggest...

Over and done with.

I enjoy going back and re-reading some of this crap. I enjoy it because I don’t remember from one day to the next what I’ve written, so going back a year or more is like reading something for the first time. I wonder how long it will stay here. Is Blogger like a time capsule or will I log-on 20 years from now and **poof** No more crap. The holidays are over, speaking of poof . As usual, it was a big build-up and prep (for some people) for what? The thing I remember about Christmas (when I used to “do” Christmas) was that thrashing and noise of the wrapping paper being torn open. It’s why I never spent a lot of time wrapping gifts. I’d find the cheapest paper I could and tape it together well enough to survive the trip. In a rush of energy, a half-dozen people would open their gifts and the chaos began. It was always so much nicer when it was just two people giving each other something. Those living room family gift orgies never did it for me. As you can imagine, I slept through t...

As they sang "Auld Lang Syne" by the light of the moon.

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In this life I've seen everything I can see woman, I've seen lovers flying through the air hand in hand. I've seen babies dancing in the midnight sun, And I've seen dreams that came from the heavenly skies above. I've seen old men crying at their own grave site, and I've seen pigs all sitting watching, picture slides. But I never seen nothing like you. . OK, so it's just the moon and Venus. It's still pretty nice. Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty good. Extra points if you know what that song lyric is.

A Shout-Out to Vikings Fans (in Minnesota)

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Here in Philadelphia, the Eagles have a full-house for every game and a waiting list of over 60,000 people. So, figure that every season ticket holder would have to be eliminated in some bizarre Cowboy-related terrorist plot, and there would still be a couple thousand people who couldn't get tickets. Now wonder how, in Minnesota there are still 11,000 tickets remaining for Sunday's playoff game between the Vikings and Eagles. In spite of the fact that it's 6 degrees in Minneapolis and going down to minus 6 later tonight (not including the wind chill), there are still so-called Vikings fans who hold season tickets and don't want to attend a playoff game. A playoff game that is likely to be the only home game they get. As a frame of reference, I am a Phillies season ticket holder and would have considered myself for psychiatric evaluation had I declined the playoff tickets I was entitled to last season (or the season before). Isn't that part of the reason you hold ...

The post-holiday stress of the day before another holiday manifests itself.

Today is New Year's Eve. What are we going to do? We're going to leave work as soon as possible (if we went to work at all), run home, get changed into that outfit that says "I'm not at work now" and run as fast as we can to some bar or nightclub where we'll join a bunch of strangers and count backward to midnight, then collapse in a heap. That's a holiday. Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve are the only two days we celebrate that are "eve's." There's no Independence Day Eve or Easter Eve - that would be silly, right? What would you do on Independence Day Eve? Light a firecracker and blow it out? Easter Eve - shove some eggs up a rabbit's ass? Get the crucifix ready? Of course, tonight is amateur night. It's like Christmas shopping. People who have no business in malls are out bumping into people and pretend they're shoppers. They go to the mall once a year. People go out on New Year's Eve out of obligation, and mos...

Oddly interesting life circumstances that lead to decisions.

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Why is New Year's Day a legal holiday? It's the first day of the year - so what? Who says we're entitled to a day off work? I suppose it's because we'd be hung over or some such thing, so why bother opening the office at all? Wikipedia says it's been celebrated on the Gregorian calendar since 153 B.C., but that didn't answer my question. The explanation lacks sense: New Year's Day celebrates the beginning of the Gregorian calendar year. Festivities include counting down to midnight (12:00 AM) on the preceding night, New Year's Eve. Traditional end of holiday season . Those are some heavy festivities. Counting backward. They go on to tell us that when holidays fall on a weekend day, they are celebrated on the closest day. So, in two years when January 1 is Saturday, which day do we get off work? Friday, December 31? That doesn't make sense. See the things I think about. Try being me for a couple of days. I don't think you could deal with it...

The puzzling nature of my on and off relationship with Rachael.

Yesterday, my Bluetooth headset freaked out on me for the third and final time, so it is spending New Year's Eve in the trash dumpster. I visited AT&T's web site to seek out a new one, and was hooked up with Rachael, a chat room assistant designed to help me find the product I need. Here, verbatim is the chat I had with Rachael, complete with my comments interspersed. You are now chatting with Rachael S., an AT&T sales representative. Rachael S.: Welcome to AT&T online Sales support. How may I assist you with placing your order today? Anthony: I need to know if the Plantronics Voyager 521 headset is compatible with my Pantech Slate. Rachael S.: I will be more than happy to help you find the accessories that best fit your needs. That little non-sequitor should have tipped me off as to the tone that our chat session would have . Who's "more than happy?" I don't understand. Is that like giving 110-percent? Rachael S.: I will check up on that for ...

7 neighbors, no waiting.

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I got shussed by my neighbors the other day. I'm making too much noise, apparently, and two out of my seven neighbors decided that I should be more quiet. Me. More quiet. That's like asking Louie Anderson to be fatter. For those of you unaware, I am a condominium dweller. More so out of cost than preference. I'm intensely private, and there are times when the condo life is difficult for me - like when I have to socialize or deal with neighbors. I like suburban life, but I'd prefer it in a cave or some five-story building where the other 4 floors were used for storage. It wasn't so much me as it was the music I was listening to. FYI, I listen to music through my fancy Bose computer speakers while I'm doing this. The walls of my condo are so paper-thin that the gigantic 2-inch speaker and it's little bass compartment rattled the walls at or near 1:00am on Saturday, keeping my downstairs and next door neighbors awake wondering what all the rumbling was. Thos...

The reason the newspaper business is dying.

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I love my newspaper. I get it delivered to my home every day. In fact, I'd have a hard time doing without it. I love everything the newspaper represents: The sense of community, the local flavor and its connection with people who live in its delivery area. Today's newspaper included the usual Parade magazine, which I'm surprised anyone reads. Does anyone read it? I'd be surprised. They're doing the usual "Year-end wrap-up," which is the journalistic equivalent of phoning it in. Nevertheless, we're stuck with it. Newspapers are dying. Does anyone wonder why? When I saw the cover, I threw up in my mouth. I thought we were through with this horrible woman and her ideals. I suppose not. There she was, pointing her finger at me and I could hear that voice, don'tcha know, as though I'm an idiot for not seeing what a regular gal she is. It's Palin redux . Or maybe it's Tina Fey? Best or worst? You can answer the question on your own: I...