Swimming upstream both ways in the Snow

I’m patiently waited for my flight to be boarded when I saw a British teenager in a colorful warm-up outfit playing with a shiny medal around her neck. I didn't recognize the color of the award until someone asked her what she won.

A huge smile came across her face. "I finished in 6th place at a local swimming meet", shined self-proclaimed Suzy Swimmer. “Out of 8”

Six out of eight? Wow...Suzy, just a heads up. I just ran into the kid who finished in 7th place. He was just stopped by security because of the magnificent size of his own trophy of modesty and look, there is the 8th place award winner making an acceptance speech near Passport Customs & Control.

Now I appreciate hard effort and confidence as much as anyone, but bragging to strangers you finished in bottom run of a competitive race might just dampen any thought you have ever had of truly winning a flippant award in the future.

Maybe it is me, but I can't even remember who finished second in last year's Super Bowl and Miss Modesty wants a standing ovation and a medal for finishing sixth. Does she realize I can float on a raft with a beer and finish only two places behind her?

As we were ready to board, they flashed the top six names on the digital flight board who would qualify for 1st class upgrades.

Little Suzy Swimmer took the lane in 6th place AGAIN. Et Moi? Oh, I missed the upgrade by one backstroke from my dubious karma.

As I swam past her 1st class starting block on my way to seat 55b, I just happened to point at her tarnished pride and joy, "Hey Suzy,... Michael Phelps called, he said he has earrings bigger than that.”

Averting Disaster

The merging lane was a disaster ready to implode. The intersection itself was already packed while the space was narrow and obstructed. I just avoided a rear end collision a few moments before as I diverted my eyes to see what was passing me on the side that smelled familiar. I returned my focus to the impossible task at hand and decided I had to either stop completely to avoid adding to the trouble ahead or shoot the gap.

I didn’t hesitate. I accelerated to bypass the slower drivers and the undeciders. I shot through the lane and looked back to see two old ladies, a man with a Bluetooth headset and a family with twins scarcely miss the crash of a lifetime.

But as I moved down to the cereal aisle, I noticed my challenges had just begun and I knew right then, I was going to have to take a quick detour to grab a cold chocolate milk and just endure what was going to be another Sunday crowd at the food store. I relent that some pain is unavoidable as I hear echoing over the lanes, “NUMBER 24, your Deli order is now ready”. --- I need more than chocolate. I’m Number 275.

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.”

A Fight of 20 Questions

NOTE: I do love kids, all children..TRULY. just not THIS one particular child.

On a long flight home, I had the privilege to be seated next to a precocious 7 year old boy (although he kept telling me he was 7 ½, but I’m not giving him even ONE extra day) while his parents-BOTH of them sat behind and on the other side of the plane from us.

I like to be social and I don’t mind answering questions, but how many times can I tell a HOME ALONE misfit, “I don’t want to hear the alphabet again while you hold your nose.”

This child who DYFS wouldn’t even bother to register wouldn’t stop asking untactful questions about anyone on the flight…”UM, I just don’t know why that big sweaty guy keeps going to the bathroom every 10 minutes, but I am sure he doesn’t appreciate you announcing to the entire flight by saying, ‘Did you wash your hands mister?’”

Yes I’m traveling with Andy Dick’s MiniMe without the rap sheet.

“ONE more time kid, the orange button brings the nasty flight attendant who thinks I’m your daddy and the yellow one is the light that you pushed so many times I feel like I’m at a strobe light concert of the Snow White's long lost dwarf, Chucky.”

“No, I truly don’t want to see what it looks like to have 10 pieces of bubble gum in your mouth.”

“Seriously, didn’t your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?...NO?...then I will..Don’t talk to me. My first and last name is Stranger.

After having quite enough adventure for a lifetime on a flight to nowhere, I decided the best way to stifle this inquisitive flight to a playground hell was:

First, get my money back from my BOSE noise cancellation headset that didn’t silence the grade school Beavis one decibel and second, turn the questions back on little Bobby Brady and entertain myself as I can’t read, listen to my music or sleep with a SpongeBob Tshirt talking in my ear.

“Hey kid, how come your parents don’t love you enough to have asked me to SWITCH SEATS?” I mean, they either sleeping or watching a movie while I baby-sit for free. Little boy, can you spell abandonment?”

“Why do they dress you like that? Were you a ‘surprise’ child and were they expecting a hamster?”

“Did you know that orange button is the plane’s ejection button and if you hit it one more time, I’ll have to tell your parents to start looking for you somewhere over South Carolina”. OK OK..you are right. I didn’t say that one out loud.

Amazing how quiet a child can become when they fear asking questions and more importantly, don’t even care for the one critical question that every child asks. However, I repeatedly asked it ever since I heard the pilot say, prepare to take off….”ARE WE THERE YET?..HUH?...NOW? ARE WE THERE NOW? PLEASE!

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."

Life Rules by Hollywood's Finest

Saw a clip from Brad Pitt and Kate Blanchett about their parenting experiences from a recent interview on Oprah.

Can someone explain to celebrities they are not the first people in the Earth's history to ever have a child? Last time I checked, the number is closer to 1 gazillion just in the past few centuries. I mean even children in West Virgina have had children in the past few hundred years and they aren't sharing the fact that it was the best thing since they TRIED having a baby.

Brad, "You wouldn't believe it. My kids are soo funny and very smart. I'm also impervious to poo, snot, vomit etc..If you ever get a chance to have one, please do."

REALLY? You mean the rest of the universe has never met a child under the age of 10? No one, whether you are a parent or not, has any clue having a child will CHANGE your life and give you a new purpose in life.

I need Tristan/Achilles the non-committal explorer/warrior telling me that children take up time, are an amazing part of life and can create noises that are hard to define.

Hey, Mr. Jolie, can you also explain to us what it feels like to win anything in life or receive a present from a stranger.

How am I suppose to know if I awake in the morning when an alarm goes off unless Brad tells me it works that way.

Oh pray tell Mr. Tyler Durden. Please, please share with me what I should look forward to when I actually ever go to a birthday party for a child. Do they truly get a year older. I mean...you are an amazing human being sharing the fact that having a child is the best thing to ever happen to you. I was going to guess agreeing to do Ocean's 45 would be your choice, but that would just be too obvious.

Kate, "We all get old with each second, we need to appreciate our lives with them each moment." Kate, Kate, Kate, You have played a Queen in movies so often you think that we are all your loyal subjects. You are cute, but I don't need anyone telling me that each second the world goes by we get older.

I now know where to go to figure out life before I experience it. We dont need to read, listen or view life ourselves. Who needs parents when you have Hollywood's finest provide us with the rules of the world.

I wasn't going to write this post, but Brad and Kate have shared with me that sharing your thoughts with your friends, makes you a better communicator.

Kate you are soo right. I feel years older just watching that video clip of you and Brad that has now taken 10 minutes of my life I will never get back. Make that 11, I just wrote about it.

Can you STOP hearing me now?

Enough. Turn it off. Right now young lady. Yes you who has pimped out her black phone with a pink case and sparkles...Yes you too, dude with the 'tude. You are all sitting together quietly, socializing and I'm assuming that means you know each other.

So turn off the cell and the text messaging at least for the small moments you are here and pretend your mouths actually work without a silicone and aluminum candy bar up against your cheek.

One hour. Try it...Last one who gives in and touches their phone, I'll give an iTunes gift card with Leona Lewis loaded on it while she sings up to 3 octaves of no words just for the sake of noise.

Two seconds later.

BZZZZ.. wow, that wasn't even close. You all lost and it wasn't even a text message or ring tone that wore you down. It was the oven's buzzer telling you that your ThreeForALL appetizers are ready.

Excuse me? Did you really just tell me to TEXT OFF?

Now that is a fine way to speak to your elders who actually appreciate that texting is valuable when you CAN'T speak directly to someone or when you know they will get the message later-Not when they are sitting inches across from you toasting the new episode of Gossip Girl.

Dr. Martin Cooper, inventor of the cellphone, wasn't dreaming he would create such a social abyss back in 1973. He just thought it was cool to order pizza from the road before he got home from work.

The first text message ever sent was "Merry Christmas" back in 1985...but of course J. Audestad who sent it used "xmas" to shorten his effort before his manager came in to catch him texting on the job.

I may not understand the value of texting to someone sitting right across from me. But understand this, I can blog, tweet, post, txt, play music, video, send & read emails like the Tasmanian Devil on Red Bull, but I also don't use it to overcompensate the fact I still like people. Maybe not YOU five kids sitting there dissing your parents. But to the most part, I still want to have a conversation with humans that doesn't include:

"wot up?" Translation: "Good evening, how was your day? Anything interesting you wish to share?"

"nada WRUUT" Translation: "thank you for asking. My day was absent of any particular details worth sharing but what are you considering for an evening of activities tonight?"

I lv txtng, but i so mis wrds n thghts with eyes and voices tht flow wit it. GTG.. My apitzr z getn cld

It's All In a Name

Standing in line at a store with a first time mother and her precocious 4-year-old. Is there a reason some parents feel the need to share their child's ENTIRE name EACH AND EVERY TIME they address them?

The child knows his name, you have been saying it 100 times a day since you forced his dad to sign the birth certificate for your choice while you were recovering from your epidural.

I'm confused as usual, you can't actually think the rest of the world cares that you are that proud of your spawn's name.

"TIMOTHY JAMES...OH TIMOTHY JAMES you are such a smart boy."

...Lady, He just burped. My dog can do that in his sleep.



"TIMOTHY JAMES..smile at the lady. TIMOTHY JAMES...Look how friendly you are."

...um..that wasn't a smile..that was telling you that you better have bought extra pampers.


"TIMOTHY JAMES...Is that a new tooth coming in your mouth? TIMOTHY JAMES you are becoming such a big boy."

....Oh its a big tooth alright and I doubt you are going to be proud of his first name when the kids at daycare see that bicuspid coming through the door before TIMOTHY TOO---I mean JAMES does.

(yes, a little mean. but you haven't seen this tooth)

I know she is thrilled to have a strapping young boy who doesn't have a choice but to be dragged to every store she goes to as she promotes his name, heritage and IQ to the tri-county area in hopes of him running for office one day.

But if I hear TIMOTHY JAMES being called out for another inadvertent, minuscule task that every 4-year old SHOULD be able to do. I'm going to start addressing my shopping cart in front of me to scare the tooth right out of TIMOTHY JAMES.

"OH SHOPPING CART...you roll soo well....OH SHOPPING CART...your capacity to hold water, bread and milk is astounding....OH SHOPPING CART..is that a new wheel you have coming out of your axis?"

Its amazing how fast the mother and TIMOTHY JAMES leave and move to another checkout line. OH TIMOTHY JAMES' Mother...you need one more kid so you just start yelling.

"Hey. YOU TWO. stop talking and quit hitting your sister".