The Flight of the Wannabe

Sometimes the in-flight movie isn’t the most entertaining event on an airplane. On my way back from the Miami, I observed a lady, who has been sighing and “tsk tsking” with disgust ever since she was overlooked for a first class upgrade, and had to sit in the first row of coach.

She began her flight of disappointment before we even were airborne by arguing with the flight attendant that because she USUALLY sits in first class, she should be allowed to use the 1st class lavatories.

As she was denied repeatedly access to the port-a-john in air, she turned around in a huff and marched loudly to the restroom in the rear of the plane while the rest of us (content with our peanuts) continued to watch My Best Friend’s Wedding for the 12th time shown on a the 4-inch screen. Ahh, but I digress.

Reference for non-travelers: All restrooms on planes are the same, there are no rose scented walls and silk toilet paper in 1st class facilities, trust me, it’s only an urban legend.

After the disappointed lady of Debutantes’ past came out of the “steerage” facility, she hoofed past the rest of us returning to her seat. However, this time with more than she left; as row after row; crowded aisle after aisle; all the winged bus inhabitants witnessed her shirt tucked into her pantyhose and 15 feet of toilet paper dragging behind her.

Excuse me for a second while I reminisce and laugh again. …..one more second…

Ok, I’m fine now.

As she passed me, I nicely pointed out her trail of embarrassment, “Don’t you just miss those first class bathrooms where the toilet tissue is perforated and the dressing room mirrors actually reflect the rear disposition of the past?”

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.

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.

Getting Ugly on the Snuggie

Give me a minute...please...I just shot milk out of my nose from laughing so hard at my NEW favorite (BUY THIS BECAUSE YOU ARE DUMBER THAN THE MASSES) commercial. The amazing super soft luxurious fleece hands-free SNUGGY that is one light saber away from being inducted into the Star Wars costume hall of fame.

I know you hate it when the blanket is just not long enough for both your hands and your swollen feet and perhaps there truly isn't an answer to the times when you need to use your hands while you sit on your lazy ass and watch the repeat episodes of the Ginzu knives/Steambuddy/Fix-a-chip/Abtwister hour.

EVER JUST TRY putting your hands back in the blanket after you use them? I'm sure together we can find alternative solutions before we have to digress to wearing roman attire before we retire.

Does your body lose that much heat for the brief second you answer the phone under your grandma's favorite afghan? Do you truly need a RUBY RED gown made from the SHAMWOW material that cleans my car every weekend to ensure your the most stylish person NEVER?

Now, I'm a huge fan of Carol Burnett's Scarlett O'Hare and her innovative tailoring of velvet curtains into a dress within 30 seconds for Harvey Korman's Rhett Butler "WENT WITH THE WIND" circa 1978 ,but even they couldn't stop laughing during that scene because of the absurdity.

If I ever come to your house and you are wearing a one piece anything...Let's just call it what it is....A house dress...case closed.

Now please realize this ONE SIZE FITS MOST has its pitfalls. You may have a slot for your cold hands to down your Sudafed mixer, but after sitting on that corduroy couch drinking diet soda and iced tea since you awoke at 11am, you will have to get up as there is NOT an extra hole for you to relieve yourself (that is an extra $19.99). Don't forget to brush the cheese doodles off both your trailer trash tuxedo and your hands before you even get the bathroom or your new HUMAN TENT will will forever leave a bulls-eye for the family pets curiosity.

Now I do apologize if you belong to Heaven's Gate UFO cult and you are wearing Nike running shoes under that monochromatic apparel to prepare you for that infomercial in the sky known as the HOME SHOPPING NETWORK. But next time you think you found a reason to not get dressed like the rest of the world, rent the Ben Hur classic and watch what the lions did to the idiots in their SNUGGIES.

Tailored Made for Misery

OUCH. I mean...OUCH. I was fitted for a Tuxedo and I NOW know where Sadists go when they get old. My tailor looks like the sweetest elderly lady you could ever meet. She never stops saying thank you and repeatedly says OK to anything you ask regarding dry cleaning or clothes. But take a chance and ask her to take in a pair of pants and a jacket and you open the floodgates of her past life as the Pain Minister of Acupuncture .

I'm thinking a few minutes of a tug here, a fold there and a quick mark of a wax pencil with a safety pin and I'm done..outta here and off to pick up dinner.

There is a reason I don't gamble as I couldn't have been farther off and I will never, REPEAT NEVER, let this 4 ft. frame of a woman fool me again with her sweet smile. I walked out to the parking lot with the confidence knowing that my prostate is normal, I do bleed red each time I'm poked and my voice can rise two octaves with the right amount of pressure.

I forgot to ask her if she takes health care insurance because I haven't had that thorough of a physical since I played high school football.

Getting changed behind a 3 Ft. louvre screen that has as much privacy as a Swiss Spa, didn't help comfort my doubt of her tape measure prowess. She's screaming numbers out to her assistant who I never saw. (scary thought in itself). "35...... 36...no 35.5...No...35" she screams out in two different cadences.

Where am I? Is this a tailor behind me or is Tom Brady getting ready to hike a football from between my legs?

Sorry, you lost all my confidence in your statement of "NO PAIN, TWO MINUTES promise", when I asked about how all this could be done today.

So I surely don't believe you when you tell me the pin needs to break the skin to ensure a proper fit. "No lady, I'm NOT tensing up...You just happen to "grab" me to help yourself off the ground and I haven't been used like that without someone buying me at least a drink AND dinner."

I truly couldn't tell you if the tuxedo is going to fit me. But I promise my new "best friend" with a pin cushion knows more about my body shape, size, measurement and BMI than any HoMedic's scale on the market.

I walked away in complete denial, not knowing if I should be ashamed or thankful I didn't ask to have her for a second date.

Colors of the Road

Someone cooler than me in this world needs to step up. I know there are millions of you out there, and explain to us non-bikers, why your helmet, jacket, pants, gloves and boots all have to be color coordinated with your motorcycle. A cobalt blue or hot lime bike is cool as it flies by my four-wheel version of transportation but seeing you pass by with 95% of matching accessories wrapped around your body like a cheerleader on steroids kinda weirds me out.

Last time I checked there wasn't a military bike brigade looking for your muffin top body to join other Honda or Kawasaki motorcycles leading the local parade with community colors and flags of Benetton.

I get the fact you want to perhaps compliment your bike with a personal rendition of identifying with your mode of transport over the rest of the world. But I think matching your fluorescent wheel guards with your underwear sticking out like (Joe the Plumber) goes too far in your support for your brotherhood of bikers.

At least Harley riders seem to know that every bike goes with black leather. These modern stylish dudes and dudettes driving a Ninja 250 with their front V-fork matching their V-neck leather jacket and rear sock adjustable pre-load matching low riding boot cut pants will surely add to the stability of the improved chassis with diamond-type frame to match your own Square diamond-type frame.

As they say, It's a Biker thing and I wouldn't understand.

True, because from my view behind you, that little Ninja might feel like a big bike in its newly engineered 249cc parallel-Twin motor and it might match your powder blue Power Ranger gloves, but you just MIGHT be trying to overcompensate for something that I hope doesn't match anything with a cobalt blue or screaming lime green hue.