Random thoughts on Don's Johns!

Now that my grad school career is done and over with, I find my myself with random thoughts on random things on random days. Actually, not random days. Every single day.  The way that my mind works is much like a pinball in a machine.  It moves fast and when hit with the proper force, it will head in a totally different direction quickly.   Call it A.D.D., call it scatterbrained or call it genius (Spit your Whatever it is, that's how it works.  When i started this blog, I had a gazillion ideas and topics and still do.  The problem I encountered was time and the lack of it.  I would see things, think about them and then try to write a standard blog about them but would watch the clock.  Then i remembered that when blogging, there are no rules.  One can write about earthquakes or one can say two words on the state of  Idaho.  That being said, here are some quick hitters I pondered recently... 

1.  Just admit it.  You have never heard of the band.  
I used to do this when I was younger.  We all did...then.  However, it's alive and well in my adulthood. Cringeworthy when I hear a conversation like this.  Own it people. Just own the unknown.  It's ok.  I don't know the hidden track on Britney Spears fourth album.  There.  I admitted it. Guilty as charged.  Please read the convo example below taking place in a car with radio on.

Harry- "LoI love music.  Especially underground music.  Ever heard of  "Mamma's BigBunionBand?"
Sack- "Uhhh..yeah.  Yeah.  They are really good"
Harry-  "Oh?  They are good.  Hard to believe they are from Iceland huh?"
Sack-  "haha. Yeah.  Hard to believe!   I loved their second album"
Harry-  "Huh?  They just came out with first record yesterday"
Sack-  "Oh.  Well I meant their second album will be good!" 


2.  Fast food Drive throughs
-  It's for convenience and saving time.  It's not the line you get in to order a medium rare burger with a slightly toasted bun with only one tomato, no onions and your ketchup on the side.  Lest we forget the lemon wedge garnish.  It's designed for #1,#2, #3 and a coke.  Super sizing is your only choice.  By the time you hit the speaker, you should know what you want.   And multiple orders for 12 people each requiring a receipt?   Get your a** out of the car and go inside.

3.  Age is just a number. 
It really is people.  It's just a number for years we've been alive.  I don't think it's a marker of ability, talent, ambition or more importantly limitations.   And in the affairs of love, does age matter?   If a girl is 18 and he's 46, probably yes.  If she's 23 and he's 37?   Who cares?   My point?  Live your life, chase your dreams and eat ice cream off a body part of your gf/bf.   Don't let anyone tell you that you are too old or young to do things.  Diapers fit all ages.  

4.  Facebook isn't that serious.
-I post on facebook for comedy.  I admit it.  I put stuff on there for my entertainment and possibly others. It's who I am. I'm a goofball and facebook is sometimes a platform to convey that.  I hearken back to the days of dating my ex when she said "some of your FB posts are inappropriate and people may take them seriously".  Really?  they do?  When i put "my finger smells like my nose", someone really takes that to heart?   If so, I'm sorry.  People use FB for many things.  Some tell you they just ate a sandwich, some posts let others know a person is sick, pregnant, no longer pregnant or pissed off at Sarah for watching HoneyBooBoo without her.  If you want to get sympathy, solace or feel the need to get your feelings out with a post like "My heart is empty and my eyes won't stop raining", do it.  If you want to post about how you farted in an elevator and your boss liked it and began flirting, awesome.  I'll "like" either of your posts.  

5.  Don Jon Upgrade
-We have curling irons that can also brush your hair, we have cars that can parallel park and for that matter, drive for you and recently we had a man skydive from space and LIVED.  Why can't we upgrade the Don Johns of the world?   There's gotta be a way to improve the quality and design of them.  I understand some of it is necessity and cost effective but what about a real mirror?  Not a glass one but at least one that isn't a fun house mirror.  And how about water that doesn't stain your arm when you drop your phone?   .  

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Twinkie Love

I'd like to take a moment to honor one of the greatest American snack cakes in the world.  Yes that's right people.  I'm talking about the Twinkie!   According to Wikipedia, it's marketed as the "golden sponge cake with cream filling".  Wikipedia also states that the Twinkie was born in 1930 in Schiller Park, Illinois.  I don't care where those beautiful babies were "born".  I love them.  Always have.   The little fat boy in me once crushed a box of them in one day.  That's right.  ONE DAY.

I mean in the pantheon of snack cakes, the Twinkie may not be your first choice but in my mind, it's the only choice.  Ho-ho's are nice.   The Nutty bars are excellent.   Even the original Hostess cupcakes are lovely but the Twinkie?  It's Americana baby!   Find me one person who hasn't tried a twinkie and I'll find you a midget who won a high jump contest.  There's apple pie, baseball, obesity and the twinkie.  

Don't worry about the fact that ingredients found in the twinkie are mostly preservatives and that some of those preservatives can only be mined from the earth.  Yes I said MINED.   Here is a link to a book that explains this all.  http://www.twinkiedeconstructed.com/Twinkiewebsite/Welcome.html   
I don't care what its made of. I love them.  They aren't healthy or good for me but they are there for me and would survive a nuclear explosion.  

And they actually inspired "The Twinkie Defense" by which the accused claimed that eating a lot of junk food i.e. twinkies caused temporary insanity.  They have never made me crazy but when I was much younger (34 or 35?), I did open a box of them at a local 7-11 and began to enjoy one of them in the aisle while wearing a midriff.   Alcohol is to blame for most of that night but the midriff is probably a result of a deep seeded love for Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island.  Err...uh.  Moving on.

 By the way, have i told how much i love to blog?   I love that I can type about twinkies and someone out there will know my feelings about them by day's end.  That is if they got this far.

The Last Girl Scout...

Been a while since I last wrote a blog and I figured why not pick a topic that is both relative to all of us and currently in our sights.   That's right.  I'm talking about girl scouts.  More importantly, the cookies these little ladies sell.  We all know them.  We've all had them.  Some more than others.   That's where I fall.  I'm the guy with no kids (that I'm aware of) who buys boxes and boxes of them.  I usually buy them from neighbors, friends or ladies I work with who sell them for their kids.   I'm told that it helps to raise funds for activities, the troops and other things.   I firmly believe this and I know the intentions are pure and true.  That is until I had this dream last night.  If the dream had a title, it would be "The Last Girl Scout" 

It was a foggy night and I was heading to Giant to buy deodorant.  I'd say it was maybe midnight or so.  As I walked to the entrance, there stood the girl scouts at their table which in the dream was more like a judge's bench.  I remember giving them a quick glance but kept walking.  That was probably because in this dream, I was wearing swimming trunks, flip flops and a turtleneck.  Maybe it was embarrassment or the temperature but I remember a quick glance and then darting to the door which of course was running from me while i ran towards it.   One girl scout who seemed much bigger and much too old to be in the girl scouts shouted at me.  It was garbled but sounded like "Be a man.  Buy some cookies.  Looks like you have been for years anyway."   I ignored her observations and reached the door.  The store was a haze and I remember buying milk, fruity pebbles, a toilet scrubber and D batteries.  When I come out, it's still dark and now it's raining.  The table full of girl scouts are gone but one remains.  The more mature and possibly mutant girl scout stood ominously in front of me.   She seemed larger than when i first entered the store.  This is when things took a nightmarish turn.

She loomed large and all I could think to do was run like a frightened jackrabbit.  I tried to run around her but her arm extended much like Inspector Gadget's and clotheslined me.   I hit the ground hard and my milk soiled my turtleneck which had now become a Member's only jacket.  I got up quickly and started running for what seemed like miles.   I am almost to my car when I am struck in the back of the head with a box of Samoas.  They weren't your normal weight of course.  In the dream, they resembled a brick.   The blow to the head took me off my feet and I ended up in a bush filled with butterscotch.   I could hear loud footsteps coming towards me and I could make out a large figure through the shrubs.  I could see her taking something off..perhaps her sash.   She started swinging it and it hit my bush and I flew into what must have been the unknown.  That is when I woke up. 

I have tried to collect the details all day.  That's what I came up with.  It's 100% true and I am hoping it makes you think about buying cookies when you see them outside of Giant, the Post Office or any establishment.  On the outside, they are the cute adorable kids supporting a cause.   On the inside, there is possibly a more sinister and darker agenda being performed.  I've seen it!  I saw it in her eyes last night!  It's pure evil and it's out there.   Just buy a box.   Samoas, Tag a longs, Thin Mints or even those new nasty ones.  Do it before she comes for you.   Don't make the Last Girl Scout become legend! 

Natalie Imbruglia was my first...

Natalie Imbruglia was my first adventure in one hit wonderdom.  That's right.  I'm that guy that sees a pretty girl in a music video and runs out to by the album.  Two reasons I do this.  The first is obvious but if not, I'll explain.  I do it because I hope that within those precious CD inserts lies more pictures of her.   I know this sounds juvenile and somewhat pervish but I'm only speaking the truth and quite frankly I am probably speaking for many.  If not, live vicariously through me fellow men.    The second reason I do it is the hope that the rest of the CD is whoopass and  I've jumped the gun on what could be the greatest album of the year.  I did this with Nelly Furtado's first album and was ahead of the curve successfully.  Natalie however, taught me a valuable lesson in music, money and life.   Beauty is only skin deep or in this case paper thin.

We've all been there right?   Chumbawumba.  Semisonic.  The SugarHill Gang.  Aha.  Devo.  Deep Blu Something.  Even my hero Patrick Swayze (God rest his soul) is the owner of one.   Now of course these artists had other songs and some were even hits albeit not in America and not mainstream.   And some of the hardcore fans of the aforementioned bands would argue that these bands have made quality underground, original music since these hits.  Some would even say the one hit wonder destroyed them and they rebuilt themselves after the fall.  Whatever the case, we've all been bitten once or twice by the hype of a song which compelled us to run out to Sam Goody's and buy Biz Markie.  Yep.  The album with "Just a friend"?  I own it.

Not to get off topic here even though I am, I actually have very few albums with tons of great songs on them.  Older albums I can definitely do that with.   The Clash's London Calling for example.  The newer stuff seems to filled with a few quality tracks and a lot of filler.   Some of the newer rap/hip hop albums have so many contributions from other artists that it feels a lot like eating a twinkie.  No real substance in there.  It goes without saying that we are a fickle society and one that gets bored easily.  We like a song and then we move on to the next.  Very few songs have the staying power.   I haven't been bitten by the one hit wonder curse in quite some time.  Thanks to Itunes, I buy songs one hit at a time now.  There's a few artists that I love dearly that I'll go that extra buck for.  311, DMB, Beck, The Chili Peppers etc.   What I'm saying is this.  Be selective out there.   Lots of muck amongst some good music out there.  Your tried and trues will guide you but be careful of the Daniel Powders and Vertical Horizons.   And no I didn't buy those.  I did buy Willa Ford though.

The Legend of Law!

There's a legend heard around these parts.   A legend that has been growing strong for over 35 years.   The legend tells the tale of a man born from the seed of Gods mixed with some foolish homeless clown.  It's not important where he came from.   The important thing here is that this legend is no legend.  It's real.  He's real.  I know this because I live with him.   In fact, I've known him for over twenty years.  In those twenty years, I've seen it all.  I can't speak about all but I'd like to take a few paragraphs to describe the 9th wonder of the world, The King of sting, the punk of funk, the foolish heart deluxe, the ubiquitous avalanche of calamity that walks the streets at night!   Where should I begin?

For starters, he keeps tuna in the fridge.  Normal right?  Yeah it's normal to keep tuna in the fridge after its taken OUT of the can.  My friend here keeps tuna in the fridge in the can unopened.   This legend also once tried a can of beer and decided it didn't taste right.   What did he add to this most popular beverage among males and females worldwide?   Orange juice.  Yep.  He took one beverage of choice and added Vitamin C.  His logic?   Trying to stay healthy.   Ahhh..moving on.  We're in the winter months these days and lots of people experience dry skin.  Fact of life.  Cold, dry air causes our skin to lose moisture.  Sometimes it's downright tragic when your  elbows look like a rhinoceros ass.  Personally, I haven't seen my elbows since the last time I wrecked a Huffy.  If you're concerned about ash and dry skin, look no further than my roommate.   He is always equipped with lotion during winter months.  But wait..there's more!   He has lotion during all the months.  All 12 of them.  He carries it with him at all times.  Most recently, he brought a large bottle to a Superbowl party and offered up moisturizer.  I'm certain if you watch him closely, he probably has a bottle in every corner of the house, car, workplace, tool shed, etc.   Who knows?  He could have lotion planted around the city for emergencies.  Fact.

Now this fellow is also the guy I work with on many, many productions and he is the other half of the Cuckoo Lounge.  We do everything from comedic skits, voice overs, music, photography and coloring eggs.  Needless to say, if one is involved in the arts there is a certain degree of dramatic and theatric talent needed.  Law takes it to an entirely different level.    Please read the following exchange below.

Me: What up man?
Law:  (huffing, breathing heavily).   hey man...
Me:   Damn bro.  You ok?
Law:   Yeah man..just tired and.....i just made a decision today.
Me:  Ummm...ok.  what's going on?   (thinking something serious has occurred here)
Law:  I...umm....decided....to cancel the call waiting feature on the home line.

Yeah.  Notice the dramatics there?   He comes in with the urgency but leaves you with the confusion.  I'll give him this.  It's entertaining and we're currently writing a skit about it.   OH and one more thing.  One more thing the truly, truly makes the legend what it is today.  Law is a lover man.  I mean this.  He is a true lover man.   He gives love.   HARD.  If his woman were a pancake and Law was syrup, she would smother.  He lays it down.   He is the most loving, sensitive, caring man I've ever met.  The only other person I've met in my life that was on his level was a lunch lady i befriended in middle school. She also used a lot of lotion.  

My point?   Law is legend and the legend is Law.  Law is also a unique, creative, intelligent cat who doesn't give himself enough credit or recognition.   He's also a kind individual for putting up with my shenanigans over the years because let's be honest here people.  I'm not a Saint and clearly not void of issues.  He actually endorsed this blog and I read him every word.  Except for this one: normal.  He hates that word!

I love you!!!!

I've decided that I love you.  I love you for reading this sentence.  I love you for reading this one as well.  I love mountain dew, lasagna, Blue Moon, my blackberry, windy summer nights, horror films, The Breakfast Club, The Royal Tenenbaums and the Clash.  I also love long car rides, slow cashiers, slow drivers, the waitress that forgot my mayonnaise and the way that my shirt wrinkles after I've ironed it for 20 minutes.  I've hated these things in the past but today I'm grateful that they are in my life and that I'm alive to have them happen. 

Within the last 24 hours, I found out there were two shootings in my hometown that took the lives of people I once knew.  Then in a separate instance, a childhood friend of mine was shot and is in I.C.U.  Now if you've read any of the previous blogs, I thank you immensely.  If you read them and took something from them, you'll realize I like to paint things with a humorous brush and don't wax poetic on things that are too political, too religious or too serious.   The point of writing blogs for me is to shed light on the silly things that cross my mind.   This whole ordeal crossed my mind and has stayed and isn't going anywhere anytime soon.  Aside from the sorrow I feel for the friends and families of the affected, I gained perspective on my own life and realized what we all should.  Life is short and certainly not guaranteed. 

So today I decided to really take a hard look at what's important in my life and who matters the most.  I found it to be a long list which I'm grateful for.  And it's a good thing.  I have a lot to be thankful for and have some lifelong friends that have dealt with my silliness for years.  My family is the best.  No contest.  I'm alive, breathing and walking.  I even have gas in my tank and also in my butt.  (Sorry..had to throw that in there).  So I implore you to look at your life and be thankful for all you have.  I also think we should not want what we don't have but rather want what we already have. 

No matter how piss poor you think your life is, someone out there would gladly trade theirs.   If any of this comes across as wishy washy or cliche, I offer no apologies.  Writing with no regrets today feels damn good and isn't that what life is all about?  Feeling good about what you do and what you have?  If not, get your head out of your ass and look around.  The world waits for no one and time flies by.  As Stephen Stills once sang, "Love the ones you're with".   Gotta go.  Just saw the cleaning lady.  She needs a hug. 

I farted and she left me....

I definitely don't consider myself a ladies man but once in a blue moon, I'll catch a girl giving me the eyeball.  First thing that comes to mind is that I might have a booger on my face or that I'm strange looking or that she might be confusing me for Clay Aiken.   Last night, one of those moments occurred.  WARNING!!!!!!The following scenario should not be mocked, copied or tried in the privacy of your own lives. 

I went to the gym recently and started stretching and for some reason, I stretched for a longer time than usual.  Let's call it a preventive measure.  I got on a treadmill and started my usual slow jog to one the greatest workout songs of all time.  Wait for it.....Rocky IV training montage!  The girl next to me was walking at a fast pace and I could kind of sense she was looking at me.  So I looked over and she smiled and said hi.  I said hello back and maintained my pace while checking my face/nose for boogers.  A small conversation ensued and then she picked up her pace.  I decide to hit the increase speed button to perhaps show her that I too was a runner and of course to keep up. 

 HOWEVER, I ate something before i went to the gym.  Something that, well, causes pressure in the abdomen.   Ok, I'll cut to the chase.  As I ran faster, I farted.  It wasn't loud but then again, that Rocky montage was in mid to high tempo so I couldn't tell if it was audible or not.  What i could tell is that she started slowing down her speed and got of her treadmill with the haste of an unmasked soldier in a gas chamber.  I kept looking at her frantically, hoping, praying that it wasn't me that drove her away.  Maybe she cramped or maybe she got a phone call, text  or something made her stop her glorious pace!   Then I noticed the old man at the end of the row also stopped running.  The look on his face told me that he had been hit with something that he had never smelled in his sixty some years.  He too, hopped off with the urgency. 

Feeling quite shamed at this point, I kept my head straight and kept on truckin'.  About ten minutes went by and another outstanding running song, "She shook me all night long" by AC/DC came on the Ipod.  I picked up my pace.  The Ipod came loose and flew behind me.  ARGGHHH.  I get off and go to pick it up and a pretty young gal picked it up for me.  She hands it to me and says "Here's your...umm..Madonna."   The Ipod wasn't locked and when dropped or thrown will shuffle.   (Yes. I admit.  There's Madonna on there.  Like two songs.  Sue me alright?  It's not Elton John)      I sheepishly said  "Thanks" as she smirked and went to the furthest machine from me.  I got back on the treadmill and started jogging to something more my speed  Jay Z's "Girls, girls, girls".  The lesson here?  Don't eat anything heavy before a run and remove all Madonna songs from your Ipod.   My life won't change though.  I'll be running again tonight.....outdoors.