Halloween Part 2

I am a grumpy old man . . .

Halloween is such an AMERICAN holiday, and here is why

1. it teaches people they can get things (candy) just by being fake (costumed) and saying what everyone wants to hear (trick or treat)

2. it is perfectly in sync with our totally liberal-entitled"gimmie gimmie" culture where people just expect things for free without working for them. . .and if they dont get free stuff, they vandalize your property by smashing pumpkins or toilet papering your trees

3. it celebrates the promiscuous, egregious, and carnal

4. Americans are addicted to sugar

5. there IS somewhat of exercise involved in the act of trick or treating . . .but its sole motivation is to get stuff loaded with calories in the first place

6. people can act out their sexual fantasies of dressing in drag OR as a slut OR as a Power Ranger . . .and its perfectly acceptable--for one night

7. it teaches kids that its okay . . .even a rite of passage . . .to damage other people's property if you dont get what you want

8. in an age where, increasingly, we are limiting our person to person contact and hiding behind technology (texting, IMing, emailing, etc.), trick or treating is yet again another opportunity for people to mask their true identity, hide from the world, and not be accountable for things they do or say . . ..because "I' didnt do it---it was "Batman."

9. we get to buy cheap stuff made in hong kong, and then throw it away when we are bored with it (how many of us actually keep our old plastic costumes from WalMart?)

10. every year, the debate rages about how Halloween is, in itself, a "pagan" holiday, and we advertise it in schools and in public places . . . .and, in America, liberals are always looking for an excuse to bring up the separation of church and state topic again . . .

BUT . . .it is a lot of fun to be with friends and neighbors. Like I wrote in my last entry, I went over to the Greenlaws for Cindy's birthday/Halloween party. I tried to take pictures of our street which, seriously, should have been blocked off by the police--walking down Military Ave between 5 and 7 was like walking down "frat row" at UNH on a Saturday night between, well, 1AM and 3AM . . .it was impossible to drive a car down the road. We estimated we probably saw well over 200 trick or treaters. We had fun . . .Cindy made a stellar lasagna (or 3) and we ate candy, Hillmans, and cheese and crackers. I brought over our fire pit and we had a nice fire to stand by. It was a great, family friendly atmosphere!

To go with my above "rant" about Halloween, the following happened at around 5:15 tonight: I worked out at the track from about 4-5. Upon driving home to my house, sweaty, dirty, and achy, I noticed kids already out getting candy. NO JOKE-these parents, leading their kids, followed my truck right into my driveway and WAITED while I opened the truck door. TRICK OR TREAT they said, holding out their bags towards me. I looked at the parents. Surely, they realized the ridiculousness of this, right? Nope. "Guys . . .I am just getting home . . .let me get out of the truck first," I said, half jokingly and half pissed off. "Should we wait here, or just come back? How long do you think you will be?" asked the parents.

This is what's happening to Halloween.

Halloween Part I

Hi. Jared here. Happy Halloween everyone. I am in class right now, and we are viewing a documentary about Edgar Allan Poe . . .kind of a creepy guy. But, I guess if you learn about him, you understand why he is how he is--he lost everyone he loved to Tuberculosis. He was a troubled and depressed man who wanted to "see" his dead loved ones--so he wrote about bridging the gap between life an death. When he was 28, he married his 13 year old cousin. What is most surprising about this is that he wasnt even from Maine . . . .

Has anyone seen "The Nightmare Before Christmas?" It is my third favorite movie (after the Truman Show and Big Fish). A great holiday movie--for Halloween or Christmas in fact. I havent gotten to watch it yet . . .perhaps this weekend, even

Check out http://www.onlinesentinel.com/ today and read the article about the abandoned Tuberculosis Sanatorium in Fairfield, where we live (the town . . .not the sanatorium). I have ridden my bike by this place a few times--it is at the top of Atwood mountain on Mountain Road. A very creepy place. There's just something about an abandoned mental (or TB) institution on Halloween . . .

This evening should be fun. Military Ave is the trick-or-treat capital of Maine, I swear. We get, literally, HUNDREDS of trick or treaters at our neighborhood, and I will write about it later. Each year we have lived at the house, we sort of "team up" with our neighbors Cindy and Dana, and we have a big party (it is Cindy's birthday too) combined with the candy-seekers. More to come on that later

Lets talk costumes. What were YOU? I think, more than anything, I was a pirate as a kid. This was most likely because I got to carry a sword. My mom used to use her own lipstick and makeup to make scars on my face and mustaches above my lips. As a kid, lots of Halloween costumes were made of trash-bag grade plastic, and they were hot as hell. This issue was always exacerbated by the fact that my mom, 91% of the time, made me wear a jacket out when I went trick or treating. She always thought I was "too cold." Anyone else's mom do this?? What were your favorite costumes?

During college years, Halloween is probably one of the biggest parties of the year--it is also a perfect excuse for guys to dress in drag, and girls to dress as turbo-sluts. This happened each and every year, and I'm sure Freud would have a thing or two to say about it . . .

I'll write part two after trick or treating tonight . . .

What's In A Name?

In English this week, we have been discussing "typological names" which are names that "give insight" into a person's character--they are sort of like symbolic names. For example, I tell them, my childhood dentist had the name "Doctor Payne" which is a typological name because, even though it isnt spelled "paIN," it is pronounced the same way, and he nonetheless hurt me every time I went to see him. There is also an orthodontist in Waterville named Dr. Ruff, who just may be "rough" on patients who go to get their braces tightened. In one of the stories we read, there is a Mr. Graves, who is a very serious and evil man, and there is "Old Man Warner," who has the job of "warning" people in the village against getting rid of the lottery in Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery." Real people have very funny names indeed, and I thought I would write a post paying tribute to some of the more bizarre, funny, and all around eccentric names I have ever heard. And they are all real names. I swear.

1. Gary Overcarlighter-Amanda went to elementary school with him

2. James Pickle-Amanda went to high school with him

3. Trevor Calculator-What the heck kind of last name is that? What ethnicity? I'd love to get a Christmas card from that group: "Merry Christmas from the Calculators." Funny. And, I swear, he took ONE class where he left Dover High School and went to UNH . . .and it was math (of course)

4. Peter Whore-I went to Boys State with him at Bentley College

5. Alex Porno-Also at Boys State. He ran against me for the office of Attorney General, and his whole election speech consisted of rallying the boys to say "PORNO, PORNO" in unison. He won, of course, which is kind of funny, but also kind of sad, because, to an extent, our real elections are won by similar measures

6. Doris Morris-Amanda came across her name at work

7. Lauren Laurence-went to UNH with her. A friend

8. Carrie Carey-Colleague Shawn Carey's soon-to-be new wife

9. Creamy Goodness-I am totally serious about this one. A customer we had at Plymouth Rock Assurance LEGALLY changed his name to this. Imagine calling at 730 on a Tuesday and asking "Hi . . .is Creamy there?"

10. Shine Divatas-consultant for State of Maine . . .what a cool first name

11. Eda Dickman-Again, I am totally serious. She went to UNH, and her number was unlisted to protect her from hecklers. What parent, in their right mind, would name their poor kid this?

12. Pete Peterson-The perfect name for Bud and Edna's old friend. Meet him and you'll understand. He just IS a Pete Peterson

13. Craven Morehead-Again, very serious. I saw the name in print in college . . .I cannot remember exactly where . . .I was doing research. Come on . . .I couldnt make this stuff up!

14. Rob Feature-"Please say HI to him . . ."

15. Dick Assman-David Letterman found out from a fan that a jovial 60-something year old man owned a gas station in Arizona. This was his real name, and Letterman exploited the crap out of the poor guy . . .

16. Ben Dick-My all time favorite, because this guy interned with me--he taught at Manchester Central High School in NH. Imagine all the high comedy that existed when he first introduced himself: "Hi, I am Mister Dick, and I will be your English teacher." Some other awkward things probably said about him/by him:

-Wow . . .Mister Dick is really hard, isnt he??"

-I can't hang out with you after school . . .I've got a one on one conference with Mister Dick

-Mister Dick really goes down deep to find new curriculum to inspire us to learn

-The possibilities are truly endless . . . . .

YOUR TURN: WHAT ARE SOME FUNNY, REAL NAMES YOU KNOW??

ben dick

Crappy Memories . . .

Read the post, and you'll understand . . . .

Today Amanda and I met Dad and Babs at their house at about 9, went to Honey Dew Donuts (my favorite . . .that I WISH would come up to Maine), brought it back, and enjoyed blueberry coffee, bagels, and chocolate donuts. After teaching dad how to navigate the ways and means of buying stuff off the internet (he was buying Moose stickers for his new truck . . .) we went to lunch. You can see Ortiz's new truck in one of the pictures--I should have taken other pictures of it; its a beauty! An 08 Silverado V-8 with 4-wheel drive. He also has XM radio and OnStar, which I am sure he will use to locate the nearest Chinese food restaurant wherever he happens to be in life at that moment . . .congrats on the truck Ortiz

Back to lunch--we went to one of my favorite restaurants: Texas Road House. They have, in my opinion, the best steaks I have ever consumed. Sally got a tenderloin, Ortiz got a ribeye, Babs got a burger, and I got the prime rib--delicious! Plus, the waitresses there are all hot. I would love if Amanda was a waitress at Texas Road House for these reasons: 1) she would HAVE to wear tight jeans every day 2) She would bring me steak 3) she would clean up after me when I was done. The other thing about the Texas Road House girls (and the reason I want Sally to work there) is because I think girls look hot wearing sports team's game shirts.The combination of tight jeans, Brady game shirt, and steak makes these people all winners!!!

The "crappy memory" I am referring to involved Peaceful Meadows ice cream--we went there after lunch. They have fantastic, homemade, farm-fresh ice cream made better partly because the cream for the ice cream comes from cows they have on their farm. When I was a little kid, the dairy cows used to be in their "milking stalls" and we were allowed to go see them, pet them, and say hi. As I remember, I was a scared little kid when it came to cows, so my mom took me into the barn to see them. Well, one cow must have been glad to see mom too, since as soon as she brought me over to it, it took a huge dump, which deflectedoff the ground and ALL OVER the lower body portion of my poor mom.

I think we mostly went to Crescent Ridge Ice Cream Stand after that.

As I said . . .crappy memories . . . .

Yenta Party!!

On Saturday Sally and I got up very early to drive down to CT to the Favry house. We were on the road by about 730, but we didnt get there until 1230. It never fails; EVERY time we go down to Ledyard, we encounter some sort of strange weather, traffic, or other anomaly of nature that ONLY happens when we drive down Rt 95. On Saturday, it was the rain--we had TORRENTIAL rain downpours as I drove down south, and these lasted almost until Portsmouth NH. I did something I never do: I drank regular (as opposed to decaf) coffee, and, I'll be honest, it does funny things to me. Seriously, it makes me feel as if I am drunk . . .sort of. I can still drive and all, but its like caffeine makes me not care about the problems of the world. Futhermore, it makes me super creative and productive, and I planned three whole units (two for speech class, one for senior honors English) for school before we even got into Rhode Island. Caffeine also makes me have to pee a ton, and it just hits me like a ton of bricks (or more like a ton of water). I think we stopped three times JUST on the side of the highway, and three more times at rest areas. Kind of embarrassing--like those old guys who tow the portapotty behind their Ford Ranger's in those medicine commercials for enlarged prostate or whatever . . ..

As you can see, the Yentas did their crafts at the dining room table--our friend Penny came by and did a stamp party for the ladies, and they were hard at work with their products--except for all the talking, jewelery, and Vera Bradley handbags one might have thought they were in a Ecuadorian Hallmark sweatshop . . .

Amanda made some fantastic cards with stamps, cardstock, ribbons, and love, and we will send those out as our Christmas cards. While the ladies played crafts, Twon and I sampled some new beers which we bought at Ye Olde Spirit Store--Twon got a good beer, and I sampled some ghetto "Naragansett" beer, which, at least, gave me a new bottle for my collection. We also played computers a bit, and I showed him my new Mac. I spent a lot of time this weekend fiddling with it (the Mac) and trying to figure out all the new software I can use in my classroom so we can beat India.

The day ended with Mom taking us to "Rice and Spice," which is a Thai restaurant in downtown Mystic. It was pretty good--a lot different than our "Asian Cafe," but good for a change. Mom was funny when she tried to use her chopsticks, tried to pronounce anything on the menu, and tried to prepare her green tea. Good times.

A Star To Be? (And HOT Rich Garces)

Amanda's new favorite player on the Red Sox is Jacoby Ellsbury--I know this because when I ask her if she likes him, she just stares at me with those "five year old eyes" she has, cocks her eyebrows, smiles, and nods her head 250 times per minute. And why shouldnt he be her new favorite; the guy is hot! He's handsome, modest, proud of his heritage, fast, and one heck of a young ballplayer--he's only 23 years old and starting at center field now for the sox. Furthermore, he exudes this certain calmness when he plays that makes one question the veracity of his age--he doesnt seem stressed or strung out on the high energy I probably would have if I were 23 and playing in the world series.

Ellsbury is half Navajo, and, at 23, is learning the native language from his mother. He was born on a Navajo reservation in Oregon, and, apparently, overcame a LOT of adversity to get where he is today as a professional ballplayer. If my mind serves me correct, he is (or was) the number one prospect for the Boston Red Sox organization (Pedroia WAS number one . . .and he is equally amazing). On a side note, I really respect the Sox for the new sort of "management strategy" where, unlike the Yankees, they don't go out and buy EVERY player they have (Dice-K aside of course . . .who is a terrible disappointment in my eyes). Rather, they trust their "young guns" to step up and help formulate a young, strong, and very good ballclub. But lets get back to Jacoby, shall we?

He is so fun to watch play ball because he is so fast. Last night, in fact, he did something amazing--he stole second base in an early inning, and, in a heartbeat, secured the dinner of, possibly, millions of Americans. Taco Bell was having a promotion: "steal a base, steal a taco," and they promised a free taco to anyone in America (I forget the time and date parameters) for every stolen base in game 2 of the World Series. Jacoby, as I mentioned, stole second and immediately made hundreds of thousands of new fans in the way of fatties, adolescents, and college students. NPR had a pretty good story on about him this afternoon, and the way they ended the story was kind of interesting--the reporter was discussing the absurdity of the whole sales gimmick by taco bell, but added that it still isnt as stupid as "Chief Wahoo," the mascot of the now golfing Cleveland Indians. Nice touch.

I wish him well, and I am rooting for him to continue to win the hearts of baseball fans. He is the first American Indian baseball player. And, like I said, he is hot. I mean, he's up there with Sting, Colin Firth, and Efthemios Kotsioupolous.

Goodnight. I am headed off to bed--tomorrow the "complete works" will be on location, as we travel down to CT to participate in Kristin's super duper stampy Christmas cardy type of party thingy. I will most likely drink wheat beverages whilst the stationery making is occurring.

Eccos Of The Past

"Pack of crazy fools!" yells Old Man Warner, a flat, yet important character in Shirley Jackson's short story "The Lottery." Warner, of course, is referring to people who live in his fictional village who want to rid themselves of the proverbial "lottery" where, each year, denizens of the village pick pieces of paper one by one, hoping and praying their piece is not smudged with the likes of a black charcoal spot. The individual who does in fact choose the "black spot" has the dubious honor of being stoned to death by all the villagers. One by one, the citizens gather rocks and stones the size of softballs, and head toward this year's unlucky participant--Tessie Hutchinson. "It isnt fair!" she screams as the villagers--including her husband and her small children--close in on her, hands brimming with freshly picked rocks. The last line of the story reads, quite chillingly, "they were upon her." It ends there.

Immediately, hands go up. "Why did they do that?" "What is the reason they kill her?" "Why do they murder an innocent person each year?" Is it their religion? Is it population control? Is it superstition? The students (and me too!) are puzzled as to the reason for the event. The REASON, I tell them, is nothing more than the fact that it is "tradition" and its the way its always been done. That, and that only, is the reason--it is the way its always been done. I ask them: how many of us hold onto traditions that, although they may be wrong, immoral, silly, or pointless, we still honor them with utter solemnity. I dont use those words though. When I say "utter" they think I'm talking about a cow. Students respond with things like daylight savings time--we have always "done" it . . .but why? Or, why are bunnies associated with Easter . . .and whats the deal with them laying eggs?? Again . . .we are surrounded by traditions that are COMFORTABLE, so we dont want to change. The people of the "stoner" village dont want to change--they are comfortable in their traditions.

I bring up clothes, always, during this discussion. How many of you, I ask, have clothes, hats, or footwear that you KNOW you should get rid of, but you are too "comfortable" in your "tradition" of the garments to rid of them? I tell the story of my UNH rugby shirts, smeared with paint, that I keep anyway, just because of the memory attached to them.

Our clothing creates so many memories for us--there are some shirts and some sweaters that remind me of key moments of my life--a Red Sox hat from a glorious summer, and a sweater collection from the first winter I underwent chemotherapy. Pictured above is a long sleeve Mighty Mighty Bosstones t-shirt. I bought it at NewburyComics almost exactly one week before I was diagnosed with Lymphoma. I was with Johnny and Jay on one of our weekly "Friday Night Club" trips. I still wear it--it has holes in the sleeves, rips on the seams, and unmovable yellow "pit stains" from countless runs and weight training sessions. Why dont I get rid of it? Have clothes become my "lottery?" My wife thinks so: we have a cute little game where she tries to throw away clothes she thinks are gross. This shirt is one of them. But there are simply too many memories attached to get rid of some things.

Onto the pair of Eccos. My mom bought these shoes for me when I was a senior in high school. This was almost 12 years ago. The shoes, at the time, were about 200 dollars. Now, new, they are 300. They are the best shoes I have ever owned, hands down. But they are, sadly, unfixable. I went to "Babe's shoe repair" a month or so ago to ask the man himself what he could do for a wonderful pair of old shoes in need of some new soul (soles). Babe, an old world cobbler and a blueberry farmer, a man into conservation, recycling, and fixing instead of buying new, flatly said "nothing." Its sad, he remarked, that Ecco has chosen to make a type of sole that, in the shoe business, is unfixable--some technical thing about the sole being attached to the shoe itself or whatever. Ecco, he explained, counts on our materialistic culture to just go "buy new" instead of trying to fix what is wrong; they purposely made their shoes "unresolable." I just invented a word. How sad (the shoe situation, not the word). But I refuse to give up. I love these shoes. I have them in my closet and cannot seem to part with them. They're the shoes I've always had and for some corny reason they mean an awful lot to me. When I DO wear them, chunks of some type of polyurethane gellous substance break off wherever I walk. It is time for them to go.

What can't you let go of? Search your drawers, your closets, your boxes. There are stories to be told about what we are made of. Perhaps you, like me, are part of the "pack of crazy fools" too.

Happy Birthday Karl

Karl Andresen was 65 years old today, and his wife Jodi threw him a surprise party at a hall in downtown Waterville. I was responsible for getting the word out to all the faculty about the party; also, I was responsible for coordinating a laptop and a projector for a powerpoint presentation to be played in honor of Karl. It didnt work out, but hey . . .I tried.

Amanda and I sat with Terry Atwood and Trenton Oliphant, the assistant principal and fellow Spanish teacher, respectively. For the first hour and a half, Karl's wife Jodi went around the room to pretty much each guest at the party (I would guess there were about 50 people or so) and introduced them and had them say a few words about their relationship to Karl--a pretty typical milestone birthday activity, I guess. What made this one so special, in fact, was seeing the way that this man literally did touch so many different people from so many contexts and paths of life--from his time in the Peace Corp to his time teaching at Bangor Christian Academy; from his tenure as a foster parent to his role as a surrogate father and "handyman" for a widowed family in his church; from his dedicated career as a teacher where he inspired so many students to follow their dreams, to his function as a "good country neighbor" who helped others split wood, drywall, and build snow fences. Many tears were shed, and, to be honest, the scene reminded me of the end of the movie "Big Fish" (my second all time favorite movie after Truman Show) where the father dies and all the eccentric people from his past come to pay tribute to a terrific human being. I joke around, imitate his voice, and make fun of him incessantly (to his face, of course), but I would be remiss to classify him as one of the most endearing, generous, and kind people I have known. He has been teaching for 43 years, and according to him, he looks forward to each and every day and has NO plans to retire. This means my DAD was 16 when Karl STARTED teaching--this was about 10 years before my dad had me . . . and now I am a 29 year old teacher.

Kind of puts the whole idea of "work" in perspective, huh?

"Wicked" good friends

Amanda here...

You know you have a true friend when you get together with the person after almost a year and you just pick up where you left off like no time has gone by. That's how it is with Andrea and I. Sure, we talk on the phone once in a while - a lot less than we both would like, and we only get to see each other about once a year, maybe twice if we're lucky. It's a shame, really, because we only live 2 hours apart. But life gets in the way, unfortunately. I really feel so blessed to have a friend like Andrea - she is the greatest!

Andrea and I had the BEST time in Boston on Saturday. First of all, we were going to see the musical Wicked at The Opera House which is in Downtown Crossing. Macy's happened to be just about a block away, so we couldn't resist. The difference between the Macy's in Boston and the Macy's in Portland, Maine is HUGE. I mean, there is no comparison. We had fun oohing and aahing over all the designer clothes - I think I could have afforded maybe one article of clothing on the whole women's floor. Crazy....

After getting our fashion fix, we headed for lunch at Fajitas and Ritas, a quirky little Mexican restaurant right nearby. And then it was onto the show...

I had read Wicked a while ago and was very excited to see how the musical compared. The book was very dark and not very humorous. The musical, however, was pretty funny! It was fun to see the book "come to life" I guess you could say, even though the musical was only loosely based on it. The costumes were amazing, the sets were really mesmerizing (you can see a picture of the "curtain" before showtime above -- it's actually a map of Oz) and I thought that the performers really brought their characters to life on the stage. It was a great performance and one that I would like to see again. I don't want to give anything away here, but I need to read the book again to see if the ending of the musical matches the ending of the book. I don't think it does, because the musical ends very postively. I think the book just ends the way it does -- kind of on a sad note.

The best part of the whole thing was just getting to spend time with Andrea. Every time we see each other, I realize that I am so bad at keeping in touch with people and making an effort to see them. However, with close friends like her, it doesn't really make a difference in the quality of our relationship -- I just miss her.

Stay tuned for a later blog where I will tell you all about Andrea's husband Michael and his bees!

Meanderings 17- Advertising Characters

Hey everyone. Sorry about there being no post on Sunday. SOMEONE was supposed to write about her trip to Boston to see WICKED. I am trying to teach Sally about the importance of "choices" and what types of choices are wise, and what types are not wise. As soon as she progresses with this, she might get training wheels on her bike . . .

1 Hamburger Helper- Creepy. A murderous looking shiny white glove with a cute little red nose who is there to help you combine your meat with highly processed garbage. He creeps along your counter and stovetop just WAITING for you to turn away. Then you’re ALL HIS.

2 Hawaiian Punch guy-A midget wearing a . . .um . . .bunch of conch shells or seaweed or coral or human ribs on top of his head.

3 Mister clean—What a sham . . .he doesn’t clean crap!!! He just stands there with his hairless, Sam-the Eagle eyebrowed face staring ominously while YOU do all the cleaning. His arms are crossed as if to say “I ain’t doing nut’n fo’ shizzle.”

4 Swiss Miss-She’s a little hornball nynpho, I tell you. Just look at the way she stares at you. She knows what she wants.

5 Chester Cheetah-He looks like a child predator. The kind who is strung out on smack. He always wants to snack, he’s dangerously skinny, and creeps around latently looking to “make deals.” Take off the shades, man

6 Land O Lakes Indian princess-Another “dirty little girl” for the subliminal advertising she promotes if you fold the carton cardboard and put her “knees” where her chest should be.

7 Pillsbury Dough Boy—teaching little fat boys that its okay for strangers to tickle you

8 Country Crock spread—As if the Hamburger Helper dude’s hand wasn’t creepy enough . . .we have human hands with voices. They tickle each other. I don’t like it.

9 Betty Crocker—why doesn’t Duncan Hines man up and show his picture on the box too?

10 Uncle Ben’s—most black guys I know don tuxedos and make rice. Especially in three minutes. It took 4 times that long just to get dressed to make the rice. Silly

11 Vlassic Pickle Bird—what does a pelican have to do with pickles?

12 Nasonex-An allergy medicine. Its “spokesperson” is a BUMBLEBEE with a SCOTTISH accent?? Huh?

13 Coca Cola bears—truly fantastic. The best ever. I’d stop global warming just for them, dammit

14 Wise Potato Chip Owl—if he is so “wise,” wouldn’t he tell you not to eat trans fatty food like potato chips? Who’s he working for?

15 Captain crunch—the Napoleonic cereal captain who lures kids onto his magical cereal ship where nothing but tragedy ensues. But thank God they have the cereal to save the day.

16 This has nothing to do with the characters, but remember when there was that whole thing about Snapple iced tea bottles having slave ships on them? This made a lot of people up in arms about nothing. On the label, there were “schooners” that some liberal from the ACLU probably said were slave transport ships and that Snapple was racist.

17 Brawny paper towels: Hey, who doesn’t love to learn how to clean up big messes from an oversized man sporting a child molester mustache and a flannel shirt. I bet his big, strong, girthly arms would be great for . . .um . . .wiping up cranberry juice on the counter. Yeah. That’s it

18 The McDonalds characters. Ronald McDonald is just flat out silly, but lets consider the chubby purple bulbous entity known as “Grimace.” What the heck is he? This was probably the last of the McDonalds characters to be designed by the crack team who brought us the likes of “Birdie” and “The Hamburgler.” Can’t you picture these advertising agents?
“Aw crap . . the corporates at McDonalds wanted four characters and we’ve only got three . . .and we’re running out of time.”

“Shoot . . .you’re right . . here . . .how about the amorphous purple thingy-ma-bob? I just drew it. It took 4 seconds. Will this work??”

“Oh yes it will,” says the other advertising agent, wearing a grimace on his face. Thus, a new era is born

19 The Twinkie Cowboy: A miniature pastry cake dressed up in cowboy garb, riding a curiously shaped, cream filled, overtly phallic twinkie, looking like he is having the time of his life. He probably is. Don’t forget . . .its cream filled. . . If you don’t believe me, look at the box . . .

20 Starkist tuna. Charlie the tuna really, really, really wants you to buy his tuna. Weird. Obviously tuna fish aren’t very smart, otherwise he’d realize that he is a TUNA telling you to EAT TUNA. Something is strange about that. Wouldn’t we be turned off if we had cows telling us to buy hamburg because they taste so good? I think Charlie needs to decide for which team he plays, if you know what I mean . . .

21 Two more things about tuna. First, why do we call it “tuna FISH?” As if there were another kind of tuna, right? Second, I find it so funny that everyone makes such a fuss about only eating “dolphin safe” tuna—tuna that was caught without killing innocent dolphins. Forget about the “innocent” tuna that is over caught, killed, steamed, and crammed in cans to be sold for 79 cents at your grocery store. But let’s save the dolphins. Because they can hold a ball on their nose for 7 seconds. Aren’t you sometimes so proud to be human?

22 Cat food. Cat food is funny because it has pictures of “cats” on the cans. But “people” food doesn’t have pictures of “people” on them, right? People food has pictures of the actual food. Imagine if people food were like cat food? You’d buy a can of baked beans, and the can would be a fat guy eating beans. You’d buy a frozen pizza, and there would be a pimply adolescent eating frozen pizza in front of the television. And such and such.

Bachelor Weekend

Amanda left early this morning to head down to meet Andrea in Portsmouth, NH. From there, the two headed down to Boston where Andrea took Amanda to see "Wicked." Sally and I read the book a couple of years ago, and we we read it conjunction with the Pelottes, with whom we had a "bookclub" kind of thing going. The book is really dark and political, but my sense is that the musical is funnier and more lighthearted. I spoke with the wife this evening--for a minute--and she said she was having a great time. She'll write more about the musical tomorrow. I am just glad she gets to spend time with Andrea--they are like sisters.

The day left me with a myriad of possibilities. I saw Amanda off this morning, after I made her breakfast. From there, it was cleaning up the kitchen and vacuuming the first floor and the mudroom. I got in a great hill workout, ate leftover Big G's, and then went to Agway. Today is Eric Reynold's birthday (he is the guy making sausage with me in last week's blog) so I stopped at Hillman's bakery and picked up a few treats for Sue, Eric, and Jackson. I dropped them off, tossed the football around with Eric and Jackson, and then went off to J.C.Penny. They were having a sale where it was "buy one pair of pants" and you got the "second pair for 88 cents." I dont know the significance of 88, but it works for me. I got some nice "slacks" for school. I saw Uncle Earl, the school custodian, buying some formalwear there--he was already dressed up in a suit en route to a wedding. I went BACK to the Reynolds', since they invited me over to have Chinese food for Eric's birthday. It was a tough decision, but I went to eat Chinese food . . .ha ha . . . It was great hanging out with Sue, Eric, and Jackson. Jackson laughs at all my jokes, shows me great magic tricks, and makes up stories about what certain clouds look like. Eric is a great workout partner, and he is very engaging in conversations. Finally, Sue lets me say "thats what she said" to just about everything she utters, and she is apparently cool with this. So its all good. The nightcap activity was watching the Red Sox crush the Injuns with my good friend Tony Pelotte

****NOTE*****GRAMMAR LESSON***** The previous sentence is WRONG. There is a "vague reference" present in the sentence. Grammar is cool. Look: The syntax of the sentence suggest that the Red Sox, in fact, "used" my friend Tony as a "weapon" of some sort to physically "crush" the Indians. See it? In all actuality, however, I meant that Tony was "present" with me while we watched the Sox crush the Indians. Do you all understand? If you dont, its most likely my fault, and you should hurry up and get an IEP so you wont have to be responsible for learning any of this stuff . . .

It was a busy day. A good day. I miss Amanda. This is the "Lifetime: Television for Women" moment . . .but since we have been married, Amanda and I have maybe spent 5 nights apart. I simply dont sleep when she isnt there; I dont know how Kris and Twon do it--he travels like 15 days out of every month on business. I guess I just like having Sally there. I guess, also, that its a good thing I married her, or I'd look like crap from the lack of sleep I'd see.

In tomorrow's blog, I'll be exploring the most arcane, most obscure, and most interesting advertising characters we see in the media. Go Sox.

Thou Shalt Honor Thy Saturday Morning

Hi, Jared here (isnt it funny how Amanda always has to identify herself? I thought I would too). A strange weather pattern we've got up here--lots of rain and wind today, yet very muggy and un-fall like outside. Driving home tonight was beautifully scary; a storm of leaves falling from the sky like big orangey-yellow snowflakes, steam and fog twirling around together to coat the dark roadways. We brought Big G's over to the Pelottes tonight (I should do a blog JUST about Big G's sometime). We got to hang out with Griffin and Liam, and visit with our good friends Mandy and Tony. Amanda leaves tomorrow morning for Boston where she will go see Wicked (no, my sister is NOT in Boston) with her friend Andrea.

I have been thinking lately about Saturday morning cartoons, and the tremendous tradition they held during my formative years; it was certainly a rite of passage to sit, wearing pajamas, and watch episode after episode of some truly great animated entertainment. I was reading an article about the decline of the "Saturday Morning Cartoon" culture, and it made me sad. The article states that, with the advent of cable stations (like Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network), DVDs, and a huge influx on imported Japanese animation, simple, artistic, and wonderful good old American cartoon programs are losing their clout with kids. Terrifying. "Saturday morning cartoons" wasnt just about the SHOWS; it was the whole experience. The commercials, for example, gave kids opportunities (in 30 second increments) to met out what they wanted for Christmas that year. In addition, mother's grocery lists were augmented by whatever type of corn-starch rich, imitation fruit snack was displayed during cartoon commercials.

MY generation was awesome. We watched innocent shows that suggested innocent fun. We didnt have "rich kid shows" like Hannah Montana and "The Hills" and other crappy mall-rat inspired b.s. There were no "serious issues" dealt with (unless there was a sorcerer incessantly chasing you to try to turn you into gold). Morality? We had it covered with "one to grow on." Remember THAT?? They were 60 second little "public service" announcements dramatizing hazing, bullying, sex abuse, lying, cheating, killing, maiming, and whatever other "issues" plagued our iPod, Razr, and blackberry free lives. I have such wonderful memories of watching "Superfriends" over Papa Goldsmith's on Saturdays while he fried me a 2 pound cheeseburger that I could no better finish today than when I was 5 or 6. The post cheeseburger cuisine would be Ramblin' Rootbeer, combined with jellied cinnamon bears. Saturday morning cartoons were all about the memories. What kinds of traditions will our kids have? These are some standout Saturday morning cartoons that made my childhood better than the kinds of childhoods kids born after 1996 have.

• The Smurfs (I used to watch this with my dad)


• Kissyfur


• Gummi Bears


• Captain N The Game Master


• Metroid


• Alvin and the Chipmunks


• Camp Candy


• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles


• Jem and the Holograms


• Masters of the Universe (He-Man)

What do YOU remember from Saturday mornings??? I'd love to read your thoughts and memories about awesome cartoons.

More Focused Work . . .

Songwriting is undoubtedly my life's biggest passion, yet I seem to have been stagnant for a while on the music front. This needs to change. Its funny you know; sometimes, the lyrics pour out of me like crazy, and other times, I am stuck with these melodies, and nothing to do with them. Its much like being me in a bar in college--I've got so much to offer, yet no one wants to take the time to work with me; everyone is so stuck on JR. Its an amazing thing when the marriage of lyric and melody fuse to create an original craft of music. I feel myself easing into another songwriting renaissance lately (the last composition I completed, in fact, was the commencement song for the class of 2007 . . .and that was in June!) so I am glad. And its about time; I have a concert coming up on November 30. I am fortunate enough to capture the auditory attention of many of the WHS student population--they have my cd's, they have me on their iPods, and they write my lyrics on their bookcovers. It is kind of surreal. Anyway, I use this to my advantage to play concerts at school to go towards fundraisers for things like the yearbook, the senior class, the Renaissance club, and the baby seal beating club. I am usually able to help raise a lot of money for these organizations, so its all good. Nothing gives me more pleasure than performing live music for people who want to listen, and in this day and age, I feel so blessed that high school students come AFTER SCHOOL when they dont have to, and PAY MONEY just to see a funny looking Irish-Lithuanian share his stories through music. So, I am off to practice now in fact. One of my students, a boy named Joel, recorded a bunch of new stuff for me at the end of last school year. I finally have the CD--there are 5 new songs on it. All in all, I now have 18 of my original compositions recorded onto disc. So if anyone wants one . . . .

I look forward to writing more about my songwriting. I can't, in fact, believe I dont mention in more on our blog; it is such a constant part of my life. . . .

Meanderings 16

1. I hate how at Starbucks, the "baristas" are trained to always try to "one up" your order. You order a medium, and they give you the line about how "for only 30 cents more you could have a large" and all that crap. I hate the whole confrontation thing, so I have come up with the perfect plan: I go in and say how I want a large. THEN I rub my chin softly and say something like "ya know what . . .I wont drink all that . . .I'll just take a medium instead." That usually throws them for a loop--do they try to "upsell" me still? They get confused! Ahh. Passive Aggressiveness at its best.

2. At restaurants, after eating dinner, there is always that cliched awkwardness that ensues where the server comes over and asks if anyone has room for dessert. The server usually manifests that false sense of triumph when he or she asks, even though they know the answer will 90% of the time be NO. After the server asks about dessert, those at the table party all glance around at each other, uncomfortably, looking to see who is going to speak up. Its like we feel like we'll offend the server if we dont get dessert. THEN, we say some totally cliche line about how we are so full we can barely move, and the server smiles politely, but inside they are writing with pain because they hear the same lame line every night.

3. Its a fact of life: Women love to pay with change--struggling to find the last eight cents in their purse. Men love to carry change around, and jingle it when they are inpatient or antsy.

4. Recently, I went to buy a dozen donuts at Dunkin Donuts. The counter-girl asked me if they were for here or to go. America runs on Dunkin, but Dunkin runs on stupid.

5. Batman has an arch enemy named Catwoman. What a lucky bastard--that is the best arch enemy in the world! I'd love to have a hot girl dressed in tight black leather who carries a whip and thinks she's a cat try to hunt me down. And he's supposed to be protecting the innocent civilians from her "evil?" I think old Batman is smarter than we are . . . .

6. Professional bowlers are the only athletes that compete in their respective contests while wearing Wrangler blue jeans. Wow. Some sport. (sorry fuzzy)

7. It is funny, if you think about it, what different professional sports coaches wear: Basketball coaches wear three piece suits, Baseball managers wear baseball uniforms, and Football coaches wear cut-off sweatshirts. It would be cute if they all switched. I'd love to see Belichick in a football uniform running up and down the sidelines, trying to find his red challenge flag tucked under his shoulder pads. And I wonder if Tito Francona had to wear a shirt and tie if we'd all see that the reason he hides under his fleece sweater all the time is because he has huge man boobs. Or maybe he just sweats like me.

8. Its funny when you're out to dinner and the server asks you what you want to drink and you say how you just want water--but inside you are feeling bad because you dont want the server to think you are cheap, only getting water to save on the cost of your check. Its not funny when the server actually gives you attitude--either a sigh or a look--when you "only" get water. Its like they are personally being hurt by your decision or something. Because I hate confrontation and I'm a total wuss, I'll usually say something like "I'm just going to have water 'right now' but I might get something later." This leaves open a whole bunch of options for me, and then I can only hope that the waitress will later be too busy to remember that I "might" have wanted something "later."

Lynne Sleeps Over

MMmmmm . . . .

What could be better than having your mother in law sleep over on a Monday night after a sewing class? I, personally, can't think of anything better in all the world. These are the moments I cherish. When Lynne sleeps over, I am not outnumbered in any decision making, my opinion is always valued, and I get to sit and relax for the whole night.

Yeah, Lynne is pretty cool I guess. She is sleeping over because she has a doctors appointment tomorrow morning in Waterville. She came over at around 430 today, and I rushed home from my chiropractic appointment to greet her. As a side note, my chiro appointment today was amazing. I have been having some tightness and soreness when I go from sitting to standing (thats what she said), and I knew I was due for an adjustment. After Dr. Gagnon--who is twice as big as me--cracked me, I felt like a new man; I couldnt move I was in such ecstasy (thats what . . .)

Anyway, I stopped at Hillman's to pick up a couple of turkey pies for dinner, and I roasted some nice red potatoes. I got a fire going for Lynne, even though she NEVER complains about how cold she is. And then I served the war department dinner before they both left for their little Yenta sewing circle. I then went and did the food shopping, and I presented coupons for things like instant mashed potatoes and carnation instant breakfast.

When I got home, I put on my sports bra and went for a run, returning home only to clean the shower so it was all clean for the war department to take their showers. Let's see . . .what else . . .um . . .I was instructed to make cocoa and lay out whoopie pies as "an evening snack." Oh, and even though the Red Sox are in the pennant race, WE are ASSIDUOUSLY watching the "White Mountain Shoe" marathon on QVC. Hmmm . . .what else . . .I answered questions on how to turn the phone on, how to hang it up, how to put it back on the wall mount, how to turn the TV on, how to adjust the volume, and how to open Amanda's sewing machine box.

Today was a great day. I feel so masculine. So strong. So sure of my manhood. I want to go out and shoot stuff. I want to drive my truck around in the mud. I can't do these things, of course . . .I have really bad PMS and I think I'll go to bed . . .

A Truly Fall Maine Sunday

Finally . . .a cold night followed by a brisk morning rich in sunshine. Living in New England, we are blessed with having the 4 seasons (sometimes its more like two though). I can't imagine living anywhere else in the USA where they dont have winter, spring, summer, and fall. I just get so excited for the changing of the seasons, since, with each season, I have a different set of memories and a different set of feelings, smells, tastes, and sights with which I identify. Its amazing just how much power the seasons hold over us--I find myself getting more stressed out, more relaxed, more likely to sleep well at night, and more likely to have insomnia just because of the seasons.

Anyway, this morning, after church, we swung over G-mom and G-pop's to pay them a short visit--I had borrowed some of grandpop's tools that he needed back, and we dropped off a lamp for him to fix (he used to run a fix-it shop). It was cute: they had lunch virtually all ready for us when we got there (ham salad, pickles, banana peppers, and chips). We told them we might be swinging by after church, and I guess they counted on us! After that, we headed home where I abruptly went upstairs to take a nap. I dont know what it is (maybe the seasons?) but I get so tired lately; I fell asleep on the 25 minute ride home to our house. Good thing I wasnt driving . . .wah wah wah . . .

Amanda was sweet enough to cover me up, and as you can see, Thomas P. nuzzled his little salmon breathed self underneath the blanket to nap with his daddy. Upon waking up, I went out to mow the lawn for hopefully the last time of the season, and greeted Amanda who was doing some weeding, washing out bird feeders, and working with me to get our place "winterized." I built a nice fire for Amanda and Thomas, and then it was plop time on the couch to watch the Pats remain undefeated as they beat the Cowboys. When the game ended, Sally and I participated in one of our favorite seasonal rituals: the clothes swap. We put away our "summer" clothes, and take out our "winter" clothes. Its a fun little game we play where we pretend to "throw away" the clothes our partner has which we detest; I swear, Amanda has some shirts that remind of things like rainy Monday mornings and chemotherapy. Sorry babycakes. Its also fun because its sort of like opening up presents that you've opened up 4 or 5 times before--its like I "forget" that I had "that shirt" or something, and then I get all excited to wear it again, and create evermore seasonal memories.

Amanda's Saturday

Hi, Amanda here.

I started my day by taking a walk around the track at Lawrence High School while Jared did one of his special sprint workouts. It was a great morning for a walk, but I did wish that I had worn a hat. It was cold and the wind especially made it feel pretty frigid. Fall is my favorite season, so I can't complain. I love the way the leaves sound when they crunch under my feet.

I then put a second coat of paint on a coat rack that Jared will put out in the breezeway. One thing about the breezeway - even though it's insulated, it still gets pretty cold out there. I'm not sure how it's going to work out with keeping coats and shoes out there in the winter, but I guess we'll see. I also painted a couple of spots on our garage doors that Jared had filled with wood putty.

Then came the exciting part of my day... going to Hallowell to meet Mom so we could do a little shopping. Water Street Yarns, in downtown Hallowell, is closing at the end of this month. Mom has worked there for the past 9 years, helping her good friend and owner of the shop, Libby. I also worked there a couple of days a week when Jared and I first moved here after college. It was a wonderfully cozy place filled with yarn, chairs and lots of women sitting around knitting. I say 'was' because now it's been reduced to a mess of scattered balls of yarn, about 10 huge piles of free patterns and TONS of women all going crazy like it's the Filene's Basement wedding dress sale. I have never seen anything like it. Granted, all the yarn and needles are 50% off and patterns are free, but some of these women were just ruthless. Some woman literally grabbed a skein of yarn out of my hand and walked away with it. How rude! Libby feels pretty good about the store closing though. She sees it as a chance for her to do something she's always wanted -- get her CNA and work in a hospital. I wish her all the best.

After Mom and I left Libby's we headed to Waterville to get fabric for our latest project -- a quilted table runner which we're making during a class we're taking through the Lawrence High School adult education program. I've shown you a sneak peak of the fabrics I've chosen. Stay tuned for the finished product on a later blog... Meanwhile Jared was home here making some lentil soup (which you can see that we're freezing in a loaf pan before we vacuum seal it with our FoodSaver. It's really kind of sad how excited we get over this thing...) The evening was topped off by Mom, Dad, Jared and I watching the Red Sox battle the Indians.

I love fabric and yarn, I love spending time with my Mom, and I love having family over for dinner so today was a pretty great day.

Rain, Sox, and Sausage

Some kind of rain we had today--it rained HARD and FAST for most of the day today; it was pretty impressive actually, as we haven't gotten much rain for a long time. I wonder how Mom and Bob are doing: I think they are on "vacation" up in New Hampshire. I hope they are staying dry.

I had bus duty--or as I like to call it "pus duty" at school this week.In the rain. It is the worst part of my job at Winslow High School, so I guess that is pretty good, all things considered. If standing outside for 40 minutes, five days out of the year is the worst part of my job, then that is great. Its just that its so boring and pointless--you watch awkward kids play hackey sack and grab-ass with each other, until the bus comes to take them home. But its a good deal.

Upon getting home, I built a nice fire in Moe Jr, so as to take the chill off and warm up the house a bit for when Amanda got home. As you can see from the picture, Thomas, of course, wasted no time at all resuming the stationary position he held from November through April of last year: lying on his green rug right in front of the warm stove. He doesnt miss a beat. Its funny how animals have "seasonal" places where they hang out; I know Ortiz's cat Kody does too. If you think about it, I guess its just like how people travel to different places depending on the seasons . . .

Eric came by to watch the sox game--they clobbered the Indians in game one of the ALCS; we stopped watching in the 7th inning. Eric is a huge fan of my special pickled Polish sausages, and he wanted me to show him how the process was done. I obtained my recipe from the "hot sauce king" himself, Dan Camann, who retired last year. So, while Sally gave up updates on the game, Eric and I brined ourselves into Kilbasanary delight--we put in special hot peppers from Krazy Karl's garden, onion, a unique blend of pickling spices, and plenty of sugar and vinegar. These things are very tasty, and they go great with beer!

Amanda and I finished the night checking out some podcasts that were available from iTunes. This stuff is all so new to me, and I am just starting to scratch the surface in learning about them, but, basically, podcasts are free "programs" you can "subscribe" to that will be dumped directly into your iPod. There's the best of National Geographic, Car Talk on NPR, "The Greatest Presidential Speeches" sponsored by the American Rhetoric Society, and ESPN shows--and they are all free. I subscribed to A Prairie Home Companion's "The News From Lake Wobegon," and Amanda subscribed to "Truth For Life," a Christian Bible teaching program we sometimes listen to on the radio. Podcasts are very cool, and I hope to learn more about them soon

Meanderings 15

Why not piss a few more people off?

ADVERTISING MEANDERINGS

1. If you're a restaurant, stop advertising that you have the "world's best lobster roll," because you don't. No one does. They're are freakin' the same. A lobster roll consists of a hot dog roll, a couple of ounces of lobster, and a spoonful of mayonnaise. How can you differentiate here? Its all pretty basic, so stop aggravating me. Yours is the same as everyone elses.

2. Then you get people like McDonalds, D'Angelos, and Subway advertising THEIR lobster roll, and how great theirs is. If I was going to pay twenty dollars for a wicked small sandwich, you think I'm gonna get it at McDonalds? Stick to frying crap, and we'll all be happy

3. Stop making such a big deal out of the fact that your restaurant now has "wraps." All it is is unleavened bread, so stop acting like you're all groundbreaking and innovative. You see signs all the time like "we have wraps" or "now, get your favorite sandwich on a wrap!" and the like. Its like they want to make people believe they sent some envoy to the far reaches of East Japeepie to find the latest culinary concoctions . . .and all they came back with was a wrap. How about an original idea, like fried macaroni and cheese balls. Go Cheesecake Factory!!

4. I'm tired of the same stupid commercials showing disgruntled white office workers, and their token black office worker, sitting in the break room eating lunch, while two of them act all despondent and depressed over their lunch, while the token black person has some "double chicken Caesar wrap" thing from some chain restaurant. The token black character is acting like they just found out they won the lottery or something, just because they've got the better sandwich--life is perfect, cuz you've got a wrap!! Then, during the last 15 seconds of the commercial, the disgruntled white workers conspire to get the token black worker's "good" sandwich while he isnt looking. The white male workers have way to much gel in their hair.

INTERSTATE HIGHWAY

1. There are all these bumper stickers telling you to pay attention, because MOTORCYCLES ARE EVERYWHERE! But if you're reading the bumper sticker on the 84 Caprice Classic, how are you supposed to pay attention to the motorcycle you're hitting?

2. Weigh Stations. What the heck? Have they ever been open before? What do they even do? I dont get it.

3. I've got a great idea for an invention: How about a new polymer to go on the back of bumper stickers so, even after having them on for months at a time, they just peel right off. Why are bumper stickers still made the same way? Why haven't they been improved with some new sort of sticky residue that comes off easier? I'm tired of seeing stickers for "Dukakis/Benson '88." It just seems like a pretty easy solution to me.

4. How many of you, when after giving the toll collector their money, say "THANK YOU!" as you drive away? I don't. I used to, but then I realized what I was doing: I was thanking "them" for letting me give "them" my money. What the heck? THEY should be the ones thanking me, but usually they just stare or say nothing. Geez . . .thanks for letting me pay you money so I can drive on your special road where I still have to obey all kinds of stupid laws about speeding and merging. Oh, and thanks also for using my hard earned money to make improvements like lane additions to your special highway, so I dont have to sit for 30 minutes in traffic just waiting to pay you in the first place. . .oh wait, that just happened.

AIDS

1. King Bush pledges millions to countries like Africa for "Aids Education." Arguably, millions are spent here in the USA for Aids awareness and education. I think we could do it for $82.95. This is the price I came up with after researching the price of a megaphone that had a range of 600 yards (I found it on Megaphonesdirect.com), as well as a full tank of gas for Amanda's Subaru. I ask you seriously: what are the millions for? At this point, everyone should know how you get Aids, and what causes it. For the people that do not, I propose driving around in a car, yelling through the megaphone the simple mantra: "USE A CONDOM. DONT SHARE NEEDLES. YOU WONT GET AIDS" for a couple of hours a day. The only overhead costs I would see would be double A batteries for the megaphone, and the occasional filler-up on gas. Undoubtedly, I'll be crucified for what I'm writing, but enough is enough already; How much are we going to entitle people? Just drive around, use a megaphone, and tell people how not to get AIDS--its that simple! I have no idea . . .not even in my most wildest dreams . . .why we need to shell out millions to a country like Africa to educate them about AIDS. My dad did it for me in like 4 minutes, and then we went to get Chinese food. It just seems to me that the only ones we spend "education money" on are the lazy and ignorant, and I think that needs to change.

Wednesday Is Bachelor Night

I love Amanda, and she loves me, so dont get me wrong--but I love having my bachelor night on Wednesdays. Granted, its on Wednesday, so I can't go out or anything, but I love coming home and just doing my own thing while Amanda goes to her orchestra rehearsal. I think that in every relationship, no matter how much you love spending time with the other person, it is also nice to have "space" time too--I know Amanda loves it when I am off on my adventures.

Tonight I came home from school and went over to Violette's lumber to pick up some wood to make a coat rack for the mud room. Then I went over to the track at Lawrence to do my sprint interval training for about a half hour. Upon returning home, I constructed and hung the coat rack, vacuumed the house (see, I'm a good man) and took a shower for as long as I wanted too. I even blasted Rage Against the Machine while I lathered myself. I just wrote the word "lather." Dinner tonight was a rotisserie chicken from Hannaford, and I watched TV while I ate. Then, after I did my nightly therapy for my terminal Restless Leg Syndrome, I did the dishes.

But it was while I did the dishes that I indulged in one of my guilty, sophomoric pleasures: The Jerky Boys. Some folks say it was a book they read, a tragedy they witnessed, or a revelation they had that impacted them the most in their life. For me--just like my friends Jay and Johnny--I turned out the way I am mostly from the Jerky Boys. The Jerky Boys are two idiot geniuses who made a fortune off of prank calling people and then recording it onto CDs. Growing up througout my high school years, nothing influenced me more than these crank callers.

They simply opened up a whole new realm of comedy for my friends and I; I can remember going to Strawberries Music with Johnny C in his maroon Grand Am that never ran properly. We drove over to the store at Westgate Mall to pick up the recently released "Part 2" album, and listened on the way home. Actually, it took us a while to get home, because, as I remember, we had to pull over in the parking lot because we were essentially hyperventilating from laughing so hard. 12 years later, Jay, John, and I could still recite, almost verbatim, a cadre of prank calls. What's more is how we identify so deeply as friends because of the Jerky Boys--I know this must sound so stupid, but we are so in sync with each other because of the high comedy of the albums. I could say "he smokes cigarettes and such" (a line from the "monkey" skit), and Johnny could easily finish my sentence, referencing the context of the prank: "I dont think that would stunt his growth" (the very next line, of course).

You are probably bored reading this. Sorry. But as I listened to the CD tonight, it took me right back to high school days where we laughed so hard at such stupid stuff. These days, I scoff at the things my high schoolers think is funny--I look at the dumb youtube videos and think to myself "wow . . .this is lame." But I guess funny is all relative. I'm sure I was lame (and still am to some degree) once. I think everyone needs to regress once in a while--its healthy, it keeps us young and not so serious, and it affirms our humanness.

I'm off to go watch the smurfs . . .