THE SPORT THAT CRIES WOLF

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THE SPORT THAT CRIES WOLF


I love watching these games and you are right. ..I couldn’t even bounce a ball twice on my knee if asked so put my opinion in perspective. But watching this year’s Euro Cup I have to just say two words. “GET UP”!!!!!

Enough of these so-called collisions, falls, trips, spills, or miss shots giving the players an opportunity to cry, lie down and feint an injury.

I know. I know. It’s playing the umpires. Its part of the history and it’s the strategy of the game. YEAH YEAH YEAH.

But in my day if you EVER failed to jump up, get up or hurry your butt back on defense immediately in Basketball, Football or Lacrosse (sports where contact is at car accident levels), not only would you be ridiculed and benched until you were old enough to actually be retired in a wheelchair, but your own teammates, fans and MOTHER would completely disown you. And Yes, when I was young, I had to play UPHILL, BOTH WAYS IN THE SNOW.

Please Soccer (European football) players. JUST PLAY through the pain my son. Rub some dirt on it boyyyyyyy!!! It’s a scratch..it’s a bruise…OK OK. We get it, but know the difference between pain and injury … Injury means we won’t see you next week. Pain is defined as watching you hold your knee, foot or head after being kissed by a player the size of Napoleon while the rest of your team shrugs their shoulders in disgust and thinks…”Again?”

Seriously, you only fell down. Correct me if I’m wrong but you have been playing this sport since you were four and as an adult you still feel the need to lie there, crying and hoping to get a call, a break or a rest.

Dude, just get up and act like you have played this sport before. It’s a game, not a battlefield. You got bumped into….MY OH MY. MEDIC!!! MEDIC!!! Your own band of brothers can’t even believe you are lying there. Las Vegas has the odds 7-2 you won’t even grow a pair. That mark on your calf was what we call in AMERICA a BOO BOO and you are calling for a priest to read your last rites.

I have smacked flies harder than that in the woods and bled more from mosquito bites and you have the audacity to act like you need both an amputation and a standing ovation?

You are a world class athlete. No argument. You are a world class player in the most popular sport in the world. Congrats. But you are also the biggest cry baby I have seen since The NBA banned the Kim Kardashian from entering their locker rooms. (I watch WAYY too much reality TV)

The only words I ever want to hear watching your exciting and captivating sport is “GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL” not….. “Mommy, kiss it better.“

BOOM BOOM BOOM

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BOOOOOM- On my recent trip from Basel to London ONLY moments before we flew over the English Channel one of the TWO engines on my SwissAir flight blew up. No joke, as I don’t joke about my next breath of air.

AND I mean a Wikipedia defining type of engine disaster BOOM. Not a sonic boom, not a Boom Boom Boom lets go up to your room. Not Boom Boom Mancini…I mean BOOM as no matter what language you spoke or where you lived, everyone on my flight mouthed aloud (BOOM?!!!!?!!!?)

Now it might have been only five minutes but it felt as though the jet shook, rattled and was off balance for 20 minutes and then, finally the plane began to steady.

Yes, perhaps I was the only American on the flight but everyone else just silently stared straight ahead as if their teacher is having roll call? If you understood English you would hear me and only me expressing the conversation loud enough even the French coast below could hear me.

“What the H---,folks THAT was a BOOM, not a tick, not turbulence; not even a drop in altitude. IT was a BOOM of 6.9 on the Richter scale. Am I the only one needing a bathroom visit at the moment?

OK, where is the life vest again? Where is that FREAKIN red whistle and what is that small light on the vest for? Do I inflate it now or wait for water to enter my lungs? Seriously, I want that oxygen thingy to drop down so I can place it over my face first and then MAYBE help others if needed… Maybe.

NO NO…I didn’t listen to your repeated instructions or read the emergency card like I should have every time I have flown. I have got 1 million miles under me but I have no idea how to connect or tighten a seat belt, which I have done more times than even buckling my own pants.”

Now all the Swiss, French and Germans were completely quiet as the pilot calmly announced (first in German, then in French and then FINALLY in English) there was an engine malfunction and we are safely returning to Basel to "check out" the problem.

A problem? It was a BOOM. A problem is 2+2= or why does the chicken cross the road? This was a BOOM. I just kept listening for “ladies and gentlemen, please kiss your arse goodbye in any language so I could prepare myself to bend over.

After my heart slowed and my breathing naturalized, all I could think of was my last meal on earth was a compact version of a processed chicken in a steamed wrapper, sparkling water which was flat and a retired sweaty bodybuilder who sat next to me was sadly going to be the last person I will see before I leave earth.

Then I thought…honestly, could Hell really be any worse?

Please feel free to roam about this conversation in the safety of your own home.

Take a Number To Be Abused

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PLEASE TAKE A NUMBER. If you EVER hear this in a medical office, the first sign you are NOT going to be special is when 7658 is your number and they are currently serving number... 9.

I have had many physicals in my life. I have had exams before playing sports, starting jobs, even before getting life insurance approved.

They were all stressful, but predictable. The biggest fear in the past was seeing a new box of rubber gloves on the exam table…but I digress.

However, experiencing my first physical examination in Europe has changed my life forever or should I say, my ability to hold water.

It is hard enough not speaking the same language as the doctor, nurse or lab technician, but I learned nodding my head and saying yes to any medical question without comprehension is NOT a painless solution.

I NOW know what the word, “enema” sounds like in any language-That I can promise as I am studying all the world’s dialects on that word from this moment on.

Even a basic hearing test had psychological impact for years to come. I was placed in pre-war (not sure which war) dark, sound-proof hearing chamber with one small window 18 inches thick.

No instructions, just a stick in my hand with a button to acknowledge I can hear something through my bright(CLOCKWORK) orange headphones.

When you get to be a certain age, even SILENCE makes noise. I could be dead and I would hear some ringing in my ears. Try explaining that when you now look like Cameron Diaz’ brother in SOMETHING ABOUT MARY.

Mmmmmm (CLICK) MMMMMMMMMMM (CLICK) zzzzz (CLICK) mmmmm (CLICK) MMMMM (CLICK) ZZZZZZ…

OK, OK. You are right. I JUST kept pushing the button constantly as they either wanted to see if I could determine the mating call of a hummingbird or the sounds echoing from a black hole light years away.

I handle marketing, not clinical trials for dogs’ acute decibel sense of relativity. Just tell me which of my ears can hear the theme to THE SOPRANOS and which does not. Bada Bing (right ear)…Bada Boom (left ear). ‘nuff said.

The eye test was not as painful but much more frustrating. I was asked to REMOVE my glasses before I took the EYE test. I can not even read the top line that says…SEHTEST UNTEN (EYE TEST BELOW). So what do you expect from my vision going forward?!

“How about now?” Says the young eye technician after making a slight adjustment.

“How about NOW what? Can you tell I still am not wearing my glasses. Those are just mimic marks on my nose and ear from always wearing something which was designed to see just what you are showing me not to see.”

Ok, and now?” she repeated over and over as the chart never focused only got brighter.

“Um. I can read the fact that you don’t care I can’t see without my glasses, but if you are asking me is that an E, M, or W, up, down or sideways? The answer is D, all of the above.

After they ran complete and industry strength blood tests with six different test tubes, inserted needles into three missing veins on both arms and pricked my fingers so many times I left the lab resembling an old rusty beer can that endured a week at a red-neck rifle range…they finally ended my day with the customary drug test in a cup.

The moment of truth…

Please, be honest. Tell me if YOU would not also be confused if a nurse formerly from the Olympic discus team commands you to go #1 in a cup and place #2 in the box.

Wait….Wait, I thought the same thing until I saw there was a HOLDING BOX in the bathroom of where to place my number 1 test sample ----ONLY then, did I realize what she truly was requesting. WHEW.

I am glad she meant(2) TWO steps to follow before I felt a need to leave a compliant number 2 present as I left the office.

SEE!!!! This is why I will ALWAYS wear glasses for my physicals.

Planes, Trains and Wedding Gowns

Planes Trains and Wedding Gowns
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On my flight back from Moscow, I waited in dreaded middle seat for my bookend seating partners as I witnessed a formally dressed Russian bride AND her groom head down the their second aisle of the day.

They acknowledged they were my new soul mates in flight so I stood up, gestured and signaled with my terrible Russian, to please, PLEASE sit together so they could lovingly cuddle for the next four hours.

The bride, with her veil still attached and her dress still fluffy, responded in perfect English they appreciated my gesture but she would like the window and her massive hubby will still take the aisle.

Wow-It is hard to visualize this stunning bride with her beauty radiating from what is supposed to be the happiest day of her life wanting already to be SOOO far apart from her groom. But neither of them spoke a word to each other while I uncomfortably allowed them to sandwich me in seat 13B while watching “Rocky IV” on my iPad (just kidding). I kept wondering if this day would define their life, end mine or just be a first test in a long line of their matrimonial exams.

“OKAAAAY, You too love birds, you have been married for only minutes and you already are letting a stranger and a bad travel agent separate you for the next few hours. Are you now going to ask me to ask him to pass you the SKY MALL magazine so you choose your own individual wedding gifts? Are you going to make me sit between satin and wool, white and black, Y and X? I don’t think so.

Sweetheart, your new spouse has a barrel chest; howitzer arms and you are now suggesting I share an ARM rest with YOU? My feet are too big, my lower limbs seem to have Restless Leg Syndrome, and you want me to focus on sitting still as I sit between Moscow’s version of Dolph Lundgren and Brigitte Nielsen?

Then I’m going to be the American Dr. Phil- but with MORE hair, “How is this early separation in your passenger of life sharing, working for YOU right NOW?”

I am beginning to see a few trust issues. You waited to hear if he was going to order the meat or veggie dish before telling him WHAT to choose and I saw him roll his eyes when you ordered your second glass of wine before he started his first.

I am excusing myself and I will return with THREE glasses as we are all throwing back some of the duty-free vodka I bought before getting on this NEWLYWED GAME plane in your honor because my sweet young Russian lovers in the air of bliss, “Мне нужно пить/I need a drink”

Massaging the Masses

Massaging the Masses

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As I walk through the shopping mall, I am stopped in my tracks while viewing the retail circle of public massage tables and their no-shame patrons who have less pride than a stupid human tricks participant on David Letterman.

Yes, I see you and I realized there is no way you can have the same stress as me. It is impossible you are going through the same life I am, if you can lay your body in a contortionist chair in the open while a small family of masseuses place their hands on their victims.

By the looks of it, you were given the ‘special uncle’ masseuse, who after he reached 18 received a restraining order from every elementary school in the free world.

How DO you press your face in an upside down catcher’s mask and not care your community’s neighbors, cellmates and cynical voyeurs like me are repulsed with the fact you are sharing your exposed, posture, sounds and exhales of a $25 rubdown in between a matinee and Panda King lunch?

In my humble opinion, it is impossible to tune out the world placed in a crouching lazy dog position as an elbow is being buried in your shoulder blade while the rest of the shoppers eat pretzels, Thai food samples and peruse the Apple Store just feet from YOUR feet.

I’m in full view of you as I am surrounded by the iPad, iTouch or an iPhone but all I hear is you iGrunt, iMoan or iSigh. At one point, after hearing you, I swore some smart ass opened up all adult entertainment sites on the new iMAC next to me.

But no, it is just you completely tuning out the fact that you are in a retail outlet known more for its One Day Sales, not its One Hour Happy Endings.

I can’t even laugh at you anymore. I can’t even begin to shake my head in embarrassment for you. I just walk out of the store, past your 21^st century rendition of a roman torture chamber and head up an escalator giving your own personal gladiator masseuse with cheap lotion a thumbs down to end your, and more importantly, MY misery.

I pity you as I get to the next floor, because you don’t realize like I do, you COULD go sit in a FREE massage chair upstairs at Brookstone. At least there I KNOW I can recline on my BACK while the rest of the shopping world laughs at me.

Failing Passport Control

Failing Passport Control- http://www.cynicalbuzz.com

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No matter how innocent and good I am. No matter how many times I travel outside the country; when I go through customs or a passport control, I feel like I’m a fugitive on the run.

Yes, I have accepted the fact I’m one faux pas or mispronunciation of the word “declaration” away from a border patrol officer sending me to a Turkish prison to star in the squeal..oops-transpose that-I mean sequel to “Midnight Express”.

CUSTOMS: -Business or Pleasure? “Well I did take a photograph of a nude statue, but I don’t plan on selling it…so does where does that get filed and would you like to see it?”

CUSTOMS: -How long have you been in this country? “Um..in hours? Are you kidding me? I think I arrived Thursday, but with the time difference, it could have been Wednesday. Do I get sent somewhere special for being able to tell time?”

CUSTOMS: Son, I DON”T ever JOKE. Do you think I’m smiling under these mirrored sunglasses? “No, But the ’86 TOP GUN crew called, they want them back before sunset.”

I’m sure my impersonation of the southern prison warden in "COOL HAND LUKE", “What we have hear is a failurrrrre to communicate” didn’t help my situation much with his “scent” of humor.

I do freak out over the smallest things. I’m even thinking to myself (What is the penalty for omitting the fact I have two souvenir spoons and refrigerator magnets stuffed in my suitcase). That is how paranoid I am. Thankfully I forgot I had a box of chocolates in my computer bag or I would have been a wreck.

As they stare at my passport, there is a big sign above their heads stating in big letters,

(If you are chosen to be searched,

we will provide both an officer

and witness observer)

OOOOH. LOVELY, I have BOTH a pervert and a voyeur asking me if I’m a packing mule or just happy to see them. I am never leaving home again. MOMMY!!

Honestly. I must not be meant to deal with the law at any level. Last night I was pulled over from a local police officer who asked me if I have been drinking.

“Officer, I have not drank anything other than the 2 liter bottle of Gatorade I had after working out, but I’ve been swerving on the road afraid I’m going to have different kind of accident trying to control my bladder AND simultaneously watch you in my rear view mirror as you TAILGATE my butt for the past 20 minutes JUST waiting for me to swerve.

I wonder how Wyoming is in the summer. I hear the border patrol there takes makes you check your belt buckle to verify your name before letting you mosey along.

Attention Deficit In Order

Attention Deficit In Order

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I see you. YES, I see you again. There you are waving emphatically. There is a handmade sign you have flashing in and out of my peripheral vision to where I can't ignore you. You HAVE to have something better to do with your morning than to pop up and down begging for attention as you stand behind the glass studio wall for NBC's TODAY SHOW while I try to finish my breakfast.

I'm so glad you are proud of your Alma Mater and feel a loyalty to make a homemade sign for attention. I'm thrilled that you are celebrating your 50th birthday with your friends on a trip to NYC and happen to stroll by 30 Rock at 7:00 in the morning. But no one else cares other than the four other ladies with you who EVEN Al Roker is trying to avoid.

We truly just want you to move to the next tourist stop on your day trip so we can watch the news, weather, sports and how many more times the police were called into Charlie Sheen's house last week. (THE important, critical news of the day only please)

Standing on someone's shoulders at a rock concert is annoying itself, but DOING it just to be situated above Matt Lauer as he talks about airline security is tacky at best, aggravating at its worse.

Seriously, even if I did KNOW you and you came from my hometown, I would never admit I did. I truly would have even disowned you if you were my Mom holding a sign that said, "Hi Erik, look at me and Aunty Em". When they talk about the 15 minutes of fame for each of us, I truly hope those 15 seconds I'll never get back count towards YOUR ENTIRE TIMELINE of fame for at least MY lifetime.

Perhaps I am envious. Yes, maybe I would love to have Kathy Lee Gifford turn and wink at me. (is that a wink or a astigmatism?) But I would never, ever, clap like a seal in front of 40 million people so I can see myself clap on the TV monitor facing me and OH wait! HEY..wait, that is my college friend standing right there next to Meredith Viera. HI ..HI can you see me?....WOW. How cool is that.. He is so lucky. Wink

Predictive Analytics of the Day

Predictive Analytics of the Day

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"promising 3 inches...guaranteeing 6 inches....predicting 12 inches" In my conservative opinion, I think it's time we regulate the meteorologist industry to rethink their vernacular before they go on TV and forecast a big blizzard or better yet, they should keep their excited opinions about their personal depth perception to themselves.

Is there any other career where you can miss 7 out of 10 times at your craft and still excel at your job (not including baseball)? Please, please!! In my next life, pay me to be a weatherman for Phoenix or San Diego or Bora Bora where I stand there for 10 minutes a day and go. "It's going to be a pretty nice day. There were worries about seeing a cloud or two, but that was only a heat spot on the Doppler radar. Tomorrow should be more of the same and the weekend looks ...well...um...pretty darn good too."

I TOO, want to stand in front of you and point to a digital map which only, I, interpret as good, bad or indifferent based on some "neat charts". I want to wear bad blazers, flashy ties and bonded teeth to tell you what you already know, "It is COLD, WARM, HOT" or the all time favorite as they point, "if you are HERE...you should be feeling some rain in your area about now."

Yes, sign me up to have 'some good ole banter' with the sports guy next to me who is reading the old news and scores off the internet with a clip-on tie and my co-anchors who are excellent ..I MEAN..excellent at reading scrolling copy at 45 wpm. But please correct yourself when read, "Afghanistan Militia" when hyphenated. It's sounds so wrong when you say, "Afgan and Stan licious".

My next life, I promise to pay more attention to air pressure, barometer readings and jet streams as I will ask my future parents to name me Storm, Chilly, or Rain to ensure my career as a futurist of precipitation does not go unnoticed, unrewarded and to guarantee I get a cool red jacket with blow dry hair to wear on the air to tell you to "HAVE A ____ DAY", depending on the inches of course.

Neighbor Can You Spare Some Time

My favorite elderly neighbors asked me to come over yesterday to help them with some new FANGLED technology. I gratefully ran over salivating hoping to assist Mavis and Eddie with perhaps a Bluetooth music system or HDTV linked to their netbooks.

As they graciously opened their door like their long lost son just returned from the war (I saw their furniture..we’re talking the Civil War), I see a box holding a—cassette loading refurbished answering machine and a VCR on a TV which was YES, you guessed it, still flashing 12:01 12:01 12:01 12:01 12:01.

My current age must not have resonated with them as they offered me cookies and milk as I set up their answering machine, even know I could swear I smelled their afternoon ritual of whiskey sours seeping through the air.

I tried to simplify the process of them recording their message into the machine even testing it with them a few times before I felt confident they could handle it.

Before I left, I adjusted their MAGNAVOX VCR clock and set the timer so they can tape their GUIDING LIGHT soap opera but I just didn’t have the heart to tell them it’s being cancelled in a few weeks.

That evening, I felt obligated to call to see the technical progress of my “greatest generation” and their giant step into the 19.5th century as the answering machine kicked on.

Then….the love I felt knowing they followed my directions to the every detail was just overwhelming.

“HI…YOU HAVE….REACHED THE CIRELLI’S…." “It’s not working Eddie..the light isn’t on..” MAVIS, SSHHH….ERIK TOLD ME THAT IT ONLY NEEDS TO FLASH ONCE,…IT IS ON………PLEASE LEAVE A MESS---" “Eddie…I don’t think that is the light he was talking about.. He was talking about the VCR light” "MAVIS.. I KNOW WHAT I’M DO---.BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”

Mmm…the only message I could leave was. “Your answering machine sounds perfect. I hope you enjoy your PROGRAM tonight” as I rushed to send their phone number to everyone on my twitter account because no one is going to believe this message unless they hear it for themselves.

Driving Me Up A Wall

I had the displeasure to be in the passenger side of a newly licensed 17-year-old driver. To put it in perspective, I could have taken two busses, a horse and a refugee boat from North Korea faster than this kid would get out of the driveway.

Ok, maybe US experienced drivers take this for granted. We get in, we turn car on and we GO. Including the seatbelt, I’m counting maybe five steps before I’m cruizin’ down the boulevard looking for some road rage to make my day.

But this young Mario Andretti apprentice with “especially bought for the occasion new sunglasses” took the Art Carney art of driving and adjusted everything except his attitude. I sat with little control watching his seat move -up.back.down.forward. and back again-.lumbar support stiff-lumbar support normal-lumbar support recessed. The moon roof open…shut..open…shut…halfway open, tilted and then up again for venting.

By the time the car even was started, the battery in the car was drained from finding the right song on the radio station to match his driving experience (think: repetitive and without talent). I truly felt like a dog walker who is watching the canine sniff for hours determining the right spot to relieve himself…as I screamed with controlled determination. “JUST GO!!!!….We are only driving to QUIKCHEK, not preparing for the INDY 500.”

Seriously, does anyone really need to sniff the TREE air freshener before you back up? NO! If it isn’t working, you would know if you got the car moving. I’m not asking for much, I just want to be going faster than A/C that he is now adjusting … for each…and…every…..vent angle … “Dude, it’s AIR, not chocolate or beer coming through those vents…what are we waiting for…the new model to come out?”

I understand the over caution, the newness and the fear of young drivers. I even appreciate the fact they focus their hands on the 10 and the 2, align proper mirror adjustment, etc.. , but I will bet NASA has less check points than this kid and three shuttles were launched and returned to Earth before I ever moved away from the curb.

After cup holders were checked for proper alignment and the trip odometer was set at -0.0000….AGAIN, I lost all patience and decided to do what any adult would do in my situation. I bribed him. “Get me to the store within FIVE minutes and I will pay any speeding ticket, plus buy you a BIG GULP of Mountain Dew and a Snickers bar. However, if you don’t move this ½ ton piece of aluminum and glass in 10 seconds, your next adjustment will be prying your body off the pavement as I will push the one part of this car you haven’t touched yet….. the EJECTOR BUTTON.”

Karma for the Day

You can tell a great deal about people in a long line. At 2:00 pm, I watched a sharp dressed man go through security excusing himself all the way through-asking each person rudely if he could move up in front of them as he was “late” for his flight. Being the good person I (think) am, I allowed him to pass me to only catch a glimpse of his ticket and departure time of 4:18 pm.

I tried not to show my disgust as I wouldn’t call out a complete stranger, but I thought I’d at least shoot a shot over his snobbish brow.

Assuming he was only anxious to spend time in the First Class Lounge, I sort of mentioned to him as he passed, “Please go ahead and I hope you make your flight, but at least you NOW don’t have to be disappointed the Continental President’s Club is closed for renovations”.

He quickly reversed his path past all the same people and excused himself mumbling about how he forgot something in his car and left the security area. Ironically, minutes later, I walked past the President’s Club and it WAS “close until further notice”. So, did I do the right thing because of the outcome or was my intent still the driving factor of my karma for the day?

Sounding Off on Taking Off

The white noise of the engine, air and oxygen floating freely through the cabin. Nothing more relaxing on a small propeller plane headed back from the islands until one of your newly seated neighbors acts like he is in his family room with NO family around within 1000 miles.

What is he thinking? I'll tell you exactly what is going through his head. "Ahh, hours of nobody around who loves me or cares what I touch while I sit here and act like my name is Donald Rump. Yes, after I remove my workboots, my dark socks that are older than the pilot and undo my belt one notch in case I have two of those yummy steamed burgers they serve, I'll be able to recline back faster than a flight attendant can say Buh-Bye".

Any male over the age of 3, shouldn't be allowed to remove any stitch of clothing or shoe in public unless he is on his way to a quadruple bypass and has to be carted into O.R. on his back.
There is a reason sardines STINK, They are stuck in a miniature plane without wings with strangers who are all just going to the same destination.

We truly don't want to know you are on the same flight as us. This is why we all pretend to look out the window while we listened to you on the runway scream into your 1st generation cell phone telling your wife and/or girlfriend to kiss your ASPirations if they don't like how you fixed the back window with duct tape.

Please don't think you fooled us by bringing BOTH a duffle bag with STYX concert labels and a backpack of dirty laundry that you think counts as ONE Carry-On. We truly mind that you took up four of the above bins with your red leather jacket, giftshop bag with cheap airport chocolate and a mailing tube with a map of the Biggest Ball of Yarn museum.

I have a ticket for your next trip. Its called a laundry ticket, use it to get some new shirts as your current one is melting into the tweed finish of this prop plane to the septic pool of destinations

Conformity at its Worse

I've tried. I have held my ground as long as I can hoping it would just go away during the next season of America's Top Model.

I have faithfully hesitated to touch upon this sensitive issue. One that touches millions and is both politically incorrect and teeters on cruelty but....

WHAT on earth possesses anyone to think that wearing jeans tucked in UGGS with the same soft touch North Face Jacket every other 15 year old is wearing is a style you want to emulate?


OH OH..I know. Everyone keeps telling me they are incredibly comfortable. They feel as if you stepped into a sheep pen without the smell. But comfort is not a style. There are men who define comfort with baggy boxers and a AC/DC t-shirt but even THEY don't walk around the mall looking like they broke their leg in a ski mishap.

Casual wear at its finest. Warm, easy to get on and off and based on every 12-28 year old, they go with everything from Pre-game warm ups to PJ's. Please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks these over sized elephant mitts look as though they fell out of the ugly tree and hit every other branch. Why would you want to walk around with your legs aspiring to be short tree stumps?

Let's define it as a fad and soon enough I can rant about Hollister sweatshirts that smell like the beach.

I'll stop, I'll let it go....but when I see a middle aged man wearing the same thing trying to look like he FITS in with the teen scene, I am sorry. I just want to stop the world and get off. These kids are suppose to conform no matter what we think, but you look like a bad sequel of HARRY and LLOYD of DUMB AND DUMBER on their way to ASPEN to get a fake tan.

Let the conformity teen scene enjoy their sheep skin boots and fluffy jackets. YOU need to stick to boxers and AC/DC shirts..It is what makes the world right again.

My food...My choice

Don't ask me why I read labels on my food and drinks. I haven't a clue. Maybe I think I'll find something good in the bad or discover that one special ingredient I'm missing from my USDA vitamin list.

Total Cereal has a great label. They are telling you that you have no reason to read their label. In huge letters, it says, 100% of what you need today. Quick, easy and allows me to finish my comics instead of looking up what the heck Niacin is.

I'm wincing at the makers of anything "fruity" in their drinks. I keep seeing,"This contains 2% REAL fruit juice. TWO percent? I get more juice chewing on my watermelon flavored Hubba Bubba gum than when I drink 8 ounces of their liquid. (Hubba Bubba..ANYONE?...ANYONE?)

Enough of this labeling. Let's just call it what it is. If you order a Double Whopper with cheese, don't expect anything but a big label in block letters stating,

"Eat more than 10 of these in a month will lower your life expectancy by five years less than if you ordered the single Whopper. Order the large fries along with it and you will live one day less than if you went to Wendy's and ordered a Double Baconator."

It is that simple.

Forget marketing the healthy and non-healthy labels to us. We are smarter than that I hope. Just tell us our life expectancy on each thing we eat and let us choose our own path. If I want to know the carbs/protein ratio of a energy bar, then so be it. What I truly want to know is this peanut butter and chocolate equivalent of a Milky Way will give me enough energy until I can have another salty nut energy bar with chocolate and peanut butter. I'm kinda easy like that.

At Denny's: The equivalent of a Grand Slam Breakfast or a Fruit bowl with yogurt. Hmmmm, I don't even care of the price, (they are both $3.99) I just want to know does one allow me to live to see my grandkids graduate high school or long enough to see another election year.

My decision: So leave me be with the nutritional labels.

This is not about eating right. This is about wanting to know what choices I am making before I make them. The irony is that WE ALL know what is good and bad before we choose. We always have.

We just use their labels to help US help ourselves. Low fat doesn't mean it isn't inundated with sugar. Cholesterol free doesn't mean it doesn't have fat. High in Protein doesn't mean its not high in sodium. There is a reason there are millions of blogs, books and articles about eating right...NO one can tell you what you already know.

We choose the Whopper cause it tastes good. We choose the salad because we had the whopper yesterday. We choose the "NUTRITION" bar cause it looks like a Snickers Bar. We choose the Vitamin Water cause it says, VITAMINS, not cane sugar, crystalline fructose, citric acid, caffeine and ester gum extract as its label.

....and I? I choose to write early in the morning because Wendy's isn't open until 11am.

Taking the wrong way on the right-a-way

Love my gadgets. If it's digital or has an LCD screen, I'm thrilled. If it can complicate my life with the promise of cleansing my frustrations, I buy it without remorse. Early adopter? HA. I buy the gadgets before they go on sale and pay 50% more than if I waited 24 hours.

The current GPS (Gentleman's Perception System) in my car has helped me many times navigate through the trials and tribulations of NYC and beyond. I've used it to find restaurants, gas stations and the nearest bookstore.

However, I recently used it to find a office address and ended up going down the wrong way on the one way street.

No, I'm not blind nor am I ambivalent to paying attention to HUGE SIGNS that say WRONG WAY, I just paid a hell of a lot of money for this thing and DARN IT, if it says to turn LEFT with a convincing voice, I'm going to do it without hesitation and get my money's worth.

Sadly, the sign was posted to ensure traffic in a SCHOOL ZONE would be flowing accordingly to the children crossing the busy road during that time of day.

As scores of middle school children watched in dismay that my vehicle was passing them in the opposite direction of the buses, A young adolescent screams out,

"HEY, IT'S A ONE WAY YOU %*$(#*@."

Aww, the intelligence of our youth so aptly expressed in such a succinct way. I continued to pass him (cause my GPS still told me I still have 400 ft to go before turning right on Elm Street) so I responded back in the only way a shameful, embarrassed mature man would respond.

"HEY SMART *$$, I'm only going ONE WAY."

Sleep Walking Through a Business Case

Whether it is the Mattress Cowboys, 1-800Mattress or Sleepy's, after driving by strip mall after shopping plaza and see endless discount mattress and bedding outlets and stores, I'm lost..Someone find me a bed to nap in and explain to me how these places makes money?

We all love to sleep and personally, I have bought a few mattresses in my lifetime but we aren't talking about an investment in cars or houses. SOOO, how do they stay in business?

DO you ever think each weekend, "HONEY, It's Saturday, lets go get ANOTHER mattress because we haven't got one in like..um...5 weeks and the old one has crumbs in it."

or

"Sweetheart, do you have your old mattresses ready to go? I'll stop by the Serta outlet and pick up your new ones before I go to the dry cleaners."

Now don't get me wrong. I wake up every day with a stiff back and numb legs thinking maybe I need a new mattress.

But I don't actually GO BUY ONE. Do you? My next one is going to be either a Tempur-Pedic or Craft-o-Matic roll with the heated pads but I only have to call the 800 number from Ed McMahon to have that one delivered because NO one would get caught BUYING one of those in a STORE without a doctor's prescription. (wink)

POP QUIZ: When was the last time you went into a mattress discounter? Really..unless Party City was next door and you saw a fake brass bed that reminded you of your grandparent's bedroom set or because it was adjacent to an TGIF's and you had 30 minutes to kill before your vibrating paging coaster went off so you can get your THREE FOR ALL appetizer smothered in Jack's sauce.

But even if you and your significant other decided to digress to 1950's TV sleeping arrangements (DICK VAN DYKE, LUCY AND DESI.. et al) and move to separate rooms on the same floor with your own beds...THAT is still only TWO beds bought over a few years.

Yes, I could be thinking too much about this dilemma in a world where economic struggles run much deeper than box springs and bed skirts. But it IS these things that keep me up at night.....

or perhaps it is my insomnia caused by the fact I just need a new mattress from DISCOUNT BOB's?

A Think-Over for the MakeOver

As you non-chalantly walk down the street with your friends, family or hopefully alone, a stranger walks up to you and to your surprise.....decides that YOU are the lucky recipient of an AMBUSH Makeover.

OK...why are you thrilled with the idea that out of the millions of inhabitants of your wonderful city, you were chosen to need the most HELP. Run now before we all watch your life's most embarrasing moment since you wore the same prom dress as YOUR date.

Excuse me, but isn't this as thrilling as after a few weeks of not seeing someone and they start off greeting you with, "You look good. Have you lost some weight?" Whether you did or not, it meant you needed to drop some poundage anyway. No, no matter how you try to justify it, this wasn't a compliment.

Is it me or do you think the prospect that YOU are the one who needs help with your style, hair, make up and frumpy outfits should offend you, not elate you? Are you screaming and jumping up and down because you finally got your 15 minutes of fame or because you think they are paying you for this comedy they are producing.

This is not a way to start your day after you have spent the last few years thinking you got your life in order. A makeover means only one thing. Everyone within an earshot of you is laughing at you in public daily. You don't need a makeover, you need a strong drink and some new friends if they never had the courage to tell you NOT to wear matching outfits with the office UPS man.

Watching a makeover show to see the transformation from an ugly duckling to a golden swan is enjoyable to the viewer..um that is me. But what could be going through your mind when you thought you were ALL THAT in the first place.

Perhaps that explains the multiple boyfriends who used that "ITS ME, NOT YOU" excuse over and over as they kept asking if you were a mechanic.

Realize for your own good, there are millions of dollars spent every day publishing style and hair magazines. (At least that is what I have heard)

Read just one or ALL of them and then look at your SOMETHING ABOUT MARY hair flip style combined with anything Janeane Garofalo wears anytime and do something about it before these two obnoxious style mavens ambush you and ask you if you have an hour to change your life.

Yeah, tell them you have all the time in the world, to hide from the general public until bright colored overalls and bad perms that make Roseanne Barr cringe come back into style.

Better yet, go back to bed and wake up again. Tomorrow, bedhead might be the next NEW look.

I'm resolved to a new resolution

Why do we use the end of one year or the beginning of another to make changes in our lives?

Do we need an event to make promises? Do we need to drink champagne and stuff our face before we decide to eat and drink responsibly? Everyday should be a resolution for the day’s past. You shouldn't need to plan a date to start your procrastination. It should be as natural as waking up…..tomorrow for today’s appointment.

Here are the top ten resolutions listed each year since Adam said he was cutting back on apples. Maybe that should be a resolution in itself.


THE LIST CYNICALBUZZ LIST
1. Spend More Time with Family. Depending on your family, this could be more of a punishment than a resolution. It isn't a resolution. It is something we wish for daily and hope for the best.

CynicalBuzz suggests:

1. Spend more Time with the family you want and hope the rest spend more time with THEIRS while you are having quality time.

2. Get Fit. Doncha love the record number of the world that get in line for a treadmill on January 2nd, buy a treadmill on January 3rd and use it as a clothing rack on January 4th.

2. How about Get less Fat. Let's be honest, it’s the little things in life we hope for, not miracles from Tony Little.

3. Tame the Bulge: If they just combined this with number 2, they could add a resolution that might actually be worth waiting for when the big ball drops and Dick Clark recites his name clearly. (sorry..that was a little over the top. I'll make a resolution to be less cynical)

3. Instead, let's Tame number of Oreos that go from packaging into your mouth. I heard they now have a new 100 calorie Oreo package. It’s called a Crumb.

4. Quit Smoking. I don’t smoke but if you didn’t quit on March 3rd, July 10th or December 11th, What does January 1st got to offer.

4. You could try to Quit Smoking the next time the Tobacco Tax goes up and you can’t afford a 7/11 Big Gulp at the same time.

5. Try to Enjoy Life More. Perhaps if you stopped trying to make impossible resolutions you would enjoy the life you are in.

5. Enjoy Life always. More, less, it is about enjoying, not TRYING to enjoy

6. Quit Drinking. HELLOOO!! I thought you just said you wanted to "enjoy life more?"

6. Instead, try to Quit wondering where you were and why you drank lime vodka and did shots without the family you wanted to spend time with in the first place.

7. Get Out of Debt. I'm sorry, but have you seen how much it costs to resolve the list 1-6? Not going to happen in this year without a personal bailout.

7. Lets work towards getting out of lending money to family you want to spend more time with and borrow money from the family you are going to spend less time with and its a win-win situation.

8. Learn Something New. I learned that learning something new costs money and doesn't help me with the GETTING OUT OF DEBT.

8. Learn something Old that feels new this year like using a treadmill as a non-dry cleaning apparatus.

9. Get Organized. It's the clutter that keeps us alive. If my life was an IKEA showroom, I couldn't find all the interesting things I've been missing all these years.

9. The more realistic solution is to Get the clutter from the basement to the garage. The garage to the storage shed. The storage shed to the basement. ..and anything that seems out of place at that moment goes in that one closet where all the hat and gloves disappear.

10. Help Others. I need help keeping my own resolutions, but now you want me to decide to help others.

10. I’d rather Help others understand that if they want to be helped to make sure they got resolutions 1-8 down pat so I can help them with this one while drinking, smoking and eating oreos on my treadmill.

Time is up for the New Year Cheer

Hello. It is January 8th people.

Enough with the Happy New Year. Yes, my holiday break was relaxing. If it wasn't, did you really want to hear about it? There has to be a statute of limitations on well wishes for holidays. If you are within two weeks of either the President's birthday or Ground Hog's Day, the New Year is too old to celebrate.

I understand the etiquette of manners and if I haven't seen you since 2008, I may spend a little more time inquiring about your time with family and friends. But seriously, one more week of this false caring of stranger's holidays and I'll be Jonesing for "Can't wait for the weekend eh Bob? It seems like this is the longest week of the year, huh Ted? Is it Friday yet Alice? It feels like a Monday doesn't it Lorraine? Do we really have to work on Monday Burt?"

It's over people. January...long days and longer cold weeks ahead. If you want to wish me anything, wish me a happy July 4th cause what I need today, is warmth, barbecue and a few outside celebrations to drown out the holiday clingers mantra of "The holiday went kinda fast didn't it?" The holiday went fast but your time/date perception is about as accurate as sun dial on a cloudy day.

This Blog says it all today

The next time you ask yourself, "I sure hope no one is watching me at this moment". ...then watch this. Thanks to Paul Hauber at Eatmoreair.com for this.
























http://eatmoreair.com/2009/01/top-10-things-that-have-bugged-me-recently/