What if Peanut Butter and Jelly never met?

      I was driving down the road and saw this car with the most awful colors.  A bright almost florescent green with an almost mustard yellow trim. I thought to myself.  That doesn't go together at all.  Maybe its the way my mind works sometimes.  I always think things should fit or go together.  A strange but perhaps telling example is when I open a box of Samoas.  I may eat two at first but then I see that the row looks half empty and I'm compelled to eat the other two.   If I'm two cookies away from finishing the box, I'll finish them. It just doesn't ease my mind to leave two cookies in a box and put it away.  Finish them and be done.   Now that we've somewhat diagnosed me with OCD and I've failed to explain what I mean, I'll try again.
        It makes me wonder why things go together or what makes two strange things work well together?   My prime example is peanut butter and jelly.   Peanut butter with its...well peanut butter taste and jelly with its sugary sweet taste often highlighted by grape, strawberry or peach flavoring.   It seems odd to put those two together yet they are a match made in sandwich heaven.   I've heard rumblings of peanut butter and bananas,  Pb with honey and Pb and pickles.  They may all be wonderful pairings however let us remember that peanut butter and jelly blazed the trail originally. 

       I guess my point in all this nonsensical rambling is that sometimes in life things fit that shouldn't or things go together like peas and carrots despite looking like mayonnaise and meatballs.  My advice?  Don't knock anything until you try it.  I used to eat my eggs naked but now its hot sauce or ketchup.  I used to use only ketchup for my fries but now mayonnaise has been added.  I used to put orange juice in my Coors light.  Wait...that was my roommate.  What mixes well for you may not mix well for me but that's life baby.   I'm not entirely sure this blog will make any sense to anyone but its good to be back!  

Kool Aid smile, Dirt on my shirt and my Huffy...

Yesterday was the first day of the summer and also the longest day of the summer.  Some would say its all downhill from here but I think it's only just begun.   Naturally my nostalgic mind went into overdrive and for those that know me well, I like to dabble in nostalgia but don’t dwell.  I’m all about the good times but also love making new good times if you will.  Anyway, I started thinking about my childhood summers and how different each one seemed to be.   As a grown man (chronologically that is), it’s all sort of like that old viewfinder toy we played with as kids.   Here I am sitting at work clicking one picture at a time. 

My summers as a kid were spent for the most part at someone else’s house.  My parents were young parents and also both young working parents so I was shipped around to different babysitters.   My wonderful grandmother (God rest her soul) Pearl raised me for the most part.   I can remember her teaching me my ABC’s, 1, 2, 3’s and also the value of making quality tea and tuna sandwiches.  She always spoiled me and our trips to Woolworth’s for grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate shakes will always make me smile.  I was also raised by two very special Aunts named Brenda and Pat.   I spent a lot of weekends and weeks during the summer when my mouth was wired shut.  (Long dental story to be told later).   Chocolate milk, dart gun fights with my cousins and watching Lethal Weapon with my Uncle Tom are good memories.    Many countless memories at my Aunt Pat’s house.   Crushing Doritos, feeding ponies, playing “Jason” in the woods with her sons Brian and Andy (my brothers), listening to Nascar races on the radio, enjoying my other Uncle Tom’s tea  and all night Nintendo fests with Blades of Steel, Double Dribble and Ikari Warriors.  The all nighters were probably courtesy of that sweet tea and numerous sodas that we often brushed our teeth with. 

Days like today make me want to go back to those innocent days.   No bills, no appointments, no responsibility and no commitments.   Days where I could wipe my mouth on my shirt, eat however many Ho Hos I wanted to and drink copious amounts of Kool Aid.  Days when the sound of the Ice Cream man was the only thing I heard other than my Mom or Dad calling me in at night.   Riding bikes, shooting bottle rockets of the balcony, walking to 7-11 to get the Biggest Gulp I could carry and sneaking into a neighborhood pool.   I could go on and on but that would take many blogs and a lot of my time here at work.   Besides, I always carry a viewfinder in my head to flip through all the good times.  Times are good now and 20 years now, I’ll look back and laugh at the fact that I wrote this blog while working.   And no matter what technology is out there, I’ll still use my viewfinder. 

Dreaming of SPAM....

 .  I'm not sure what to say or how to explain exactly why I have dreamt of it but to use a parlance of our times, it is what it is.  Let me clarify though.  The entire dream isn't regarding Spam.  It just seems to pop up here and there.  One night I dreamt of it being used as a weapon, another night it was a centerpiece at a dinner I was at and a few months ago I dreamt a Spam monster attacked me at a carnival.  Again, I have no idea why but it's caused me to think a bit more about Spam and what characteristics it has that seem to enchant and also haunt my subconscious.  The first question that came to mind was what the hell is SPAM?

Spam is defined as
Canned precooked meat product made by the Hormel foods corporation. The labeled ingredients in the classic variety of Spam are chopped pork shoulder meat, with ham meat added, salt, water, modified potato starch as a binder, and sodium nitrate as a preservative. Spam's gelatinous glaze, or aspic appearance, forms from the cooling of meat stock. The product has become part of many jokes and urban legends about mystery meat which has made it part of pop culture and folklore.  A Hormel official stated that the name originated from the ingredients "shoulder of pork and ham"

Did you read that?   "Chopped pork shoulder meat" sounds damn good doesn't it?   I bet it would go well with some cream of sheepball soup!    The ingredients of the Spam are quite nasty but not one time while I read those words was I enchanted or intrigued.  In fact, I wasn't even surprised.  So why?  Why does Spam turn up in my dreams?   It's not like I ate it as a kid.   I ate some deviled ham here and there but never delved into the world of Spam.  You think I jest?   No.  No.  Surely I don't. 

Upon further research on the subject, I find the....Spam Jam!  Yes that's right.  There is a festival celebrating said meat.  Spam Jam is real and there are actually two festivals.  One occurs in Austin, Minnesota which is home to the headquarters of Hormel Foods.  In past events, such stars as James Belushi, Kurtwood Smith( of Robocop and 70s show fame) and the Science Guy Bill Nye.   The second Spam Jam occurs in Waikiki, Hawaii which for some reason reminds me of Spam.   All of this is fascinating stuff but again...why am i dreaming of it?  As a last resort, I consult a dream dictionary. 

According to the dream dictionary, dreaming of meat or having meat could represent obstacles or discouragements that I may come across as I move toward achieving goals.  It may also reflect untamed, animalistic tendencies and raw emotions.  Hmmmmmmm.    Well damn.  Never quite thought of it that way and I will not confirm or deny that analysis's relevance in my life. 

In summary, I have reached zero conclusion as to why Spam appears in my dreams.  It could be that I'm hungry, it could be that I am apprehensive of future goals, it could be that I'm a raw animal beast, it could simply be a sign that I need to pursue a career in additives, preservatives or meat in general.  Perhaps I'm the guy who's going to invent the next meat snack.  Meat in a cup?  Meat on a stick?  Meat chewing gum?   Perhaps a new action hero called Pete Meat who fights evil spoiled meat?    I will give you this nugget.   Tonight's dinner will be none other than....SPAM and all its gelatinous glory!   Call me if you want some.  Hitting Costco after work...

Long Duk Dong Overdue...

Greetings and Salutations my gracious readers and followers!  All four of you will be happy to know I'm alive and somewhat well.  This blog is still alive as well.  Been a long time I know but it seems I underestimated the whole concept of having a full schedule and the phrase "time flies" was never quite understood until recently.  That being said, it's about time for a blog entry and just catch the world up on all things Greg in a humorous fashion.  At least I like to think its humorous.

So let's see.  I am almost through year one of graduate school.  Been swell but I have to admit, it's damn hard.  It's a higher learning this brain may not be meant to achieve but here I sit talking about the actual completion of one year.   Will he make it?  Sure he will.  In one piece?  Sure.  Pickled like an egg with all my hair falling out?  Probably that too.  At least I will have more education and hopefully more money to buy silly, non essential items like the fourth season of Murder she Wrote! 

In other news, The CuckooLounge is doing well.  Not as busy as I'd like it to be but I find time to dally in it.  We are currently scoring a short film I cowrote (shameless self plugging)  and also scoring a trailer that is seeking funding to be made into a feature length movie.  Full details to come. 

The term cancer has all kinds of new meaning to me. It always resonated as negative to me over the years but also over the years people close to me starting getting it.  Now I not only understand it but I want to fight against it in any way possible.  A blog will be coming soon on this.  I could go on and on..

And of course, it wouldnt be a Orrenism without a funny story.  So I recently bought a soda at the local WaWa.  I am standing in line and reach into my pocket to get cash to pay for the aforementioned soda.  A dollar falls from my pocket and an old homeless guy picks it up.  I think to myself   "It's a buck.  Let him have it and besides that hand looks like it was making brownies recently".   Well before those thoughts could reach my lips, he takes the dollar and puts it back in my pocket for me.  DEEP in my pocket for about three seconds.   We stood eye to eye for a few of those seconds.  My eyes slightly wide, mouth agape.  His eyes, squinted due to the enormous grin on his face.  Two men, two differnt expressions, two different feelings, one dollar.   Who knew all it took was a dollar to get in my pants...........pocket?    And what does the cashier do in this situation?    He says "That'll be $1.05."   Ha.  The hell you say.  I lost more than that in this transaction!   Until next time America, Canada and Lithuania!

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?   .  

!

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!