A, B, Start, Select, Up, Down

My oh my how gaming has changed since "my day", by which I mean the late 80s. For one thing, we didn't call it "gaming". "Gaming" - like most "ing" verbs - suggests a serious effort in which time and money are heavily invested, strategy is intensely studied, and developments, improvements and additions are made on a constant basis. It sounds like "hunting" or "fishing"... "Gaming" makes it sound almost like a profession. "I am a gamer".

20+ years ago it was as simple as "Let's go play Mario!" Yes, it's called "Super Mario Brothers", but we didn't (and still don't) call it that. We were on a much more familiar basis, a first name basis. He was, is and always will be "Mario".

My favorite thing about video games today versus 20-25 years ago is the ability to stop playing and save your spot. Kids of the new millennium have no idea the feeling that creeps in when you've made it to level 8, this time you might just save the elusive Princess, and you get called to dinner or told to go to bed. Kids now have no idea how much work was involved to protect the game system from being shut off. You had to seek out and verbally inform everyone that might be in, near, or within 16 blocks of your house that you are in the middle of a game and NOT to turn the system off. You had to post warnings, inform family and neighbors, and most importantly, stand items in front of the shelf or find some electrical tape to cover the light so that in the event an energy-conscious (read: cheap) parent should happen by, your progress does not become a victim of "Hey, who left this on? My name isn't ComEd, you know!"

I've been out of the video game loop for quite awhile. I had the 8-bit Nintendo with the giant cartridges... the damn thing still works too! (you still have to blow in the cartridges and the game system to get it to work though)... the next one I had was Sega Genesis, but I never really got all that far into it.

Awhile later, when Playstation arrived, I realized I just couldn't hack it. Too much going on with those games and those controllers that have 8 buttons, two joysticks and a directional arrow key. Not only does each button do something different, but the button functions vary game to game. One game uses this button to shoot/aim/fire/jump/swim/do the batdance... another game with the same activity relies on a different button to perform it. Forget it.

But wait! The invention of Wii gives me a controller like I had back in the day? Well, sign me up! Ok, they've added one additional button, but that's alright. One is fine. Considering that for many of the games you really don't need *any* buttons anyway, I'll take the one extra button, no problem. Well, I was a little wrong about that. Buttons do become a problem again down the course of this tale.

Now, the downside of the controller frenzy is this: sure, Nintendo brought back the simple game controller, for which I am thankful, but in the process, they gave us a slew of games that need all kinds of other bullshit in order to play them. It seems like each game has its own gizmo requirement now. The hunting game has to come with some kind of rifle, the Wii Fitness games and a few others need a "balance" board, the Dance Revolution game needs some kind of floor mat to dance on, the Mario Kart game needs steering wheels for each player... well, ok, you got me on that one... you can play it without the wheel but what the hell fun is that? ... and for the Rock Band games, you need 2 guitars, a microphone, a keytar (oh yes, there's a keytar) and friggin' DRUMS. You now need a drum set to play a video game... really?!

A, B, Start, Select, Up and Down are just not enough anymore. But isn't there a happy medium between A, B, Up and Down and a video game that requires you to hire roadies to set the damn thing up?

I don't have enough patience, or enough interested friends for that matter, to start my own virtual rock band just yet, so I went with Guitar Hero (which has also recently added microphones and drums... but whatever)..

Now we're talking! Games like this are exactly perfect for my generation. A child of the 80s who outgrew video games 15-20 years ago can once again hole up on a cold winter night and just be a kid, only this time, the games are way cooler, and considering the content, it is now perfectly acceptable for people my age and up to play video games. I mean, you stick Slash on the box and fill the game with 70s and 80s rock, you're basically saying "Hey, it's ok that you have clear memories of Nixon, Carter and /or Reagan being elected... you can still play this!!"

I was a little giddy, I must admit. I played this game once, on the display at a Best Buy, and I suuuuuucked, but that was in Best Buy for five minutes. Surely, in my own living room, with time to read the directions, I can figure it out. No problem. I'm gonna be the best fake guitarist ever!

Well, that was the idea. Here's what actually happened:

"Holy shit, what are all these dots flying across the screen at me!? What am I supposed to press? But I DID press that one, nothing happened! Press them both? Both what? Why do you keep talking about Star Power? Is that like the little star in Mario that makes you invincible? If I'm invincible, I won't get booed off? What do mean "that's not what Star Power means"? Well, that's what it SHOULD mean, because I keep getting f#@%!&*! booed off!"


Well, close enough. Here is what honestly happened:

"Ooooh look, it has "American Girl"! I know every note of this song, I'm gonna start with that!!"

*Music stops and I get booed out before the first chorus*

"Hey, what the...? Um. I'm not so good at this. Man, that song has a lot of fucking notes."

This is where a slew of buttons reappears to ruin my day.

You've seen these video game guitars, yes?

5 fret buttons... green, red, yellow, blue, orange. A strumming "bar" and a whammy bar. Just when I thought I had my simple controller back. Ah, me.

Now, think about how you hold a guitar. You have 4 fingers available on the fretboard. There are 5 buttons on the fake guitar. "Something doesn't quite add up here," I think as I stare at the guitar controller.

Brief rundown: On easy mode (and we're being real loose with the word "easy" here), you get green, red and yellow notes. On medium mode, you add blue notes. On hard mode, you add orange and at this point the sequences are complicated. Beyond that is "expert" mode. I can't even begin to imagine anyone actually being able to do that.

I should probably go the easier route and just learn to play a real guitar, but it's already too late. The note colors and combinations are already starting to stick in my head... much the same way the 12 year-year-old me started to see everything as a possible Tetris puzzle. Don't even pretend you don't know what I'm talking about...

I can already tell you that to play the chorus of "Slow Ride" by Foghat, you go... yellow-red-hold on green repeat. More to come shortly on why I was playing friggin' Foghat in the first place...

This game actually requires skill, timing and coordination. Not a fan of that. I just wanted to play "Welcome to the Jungle". Well, I DID play "Welcome to the Jungle". And before I even got to "sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-kneeeeeees-kneeeees", Slash climbed out of the TV... YES, he climbed OUT of my TV, took the guitar away from me, beat me right over the head with it and said "You're not even close, just STOP playing that. Stop it. I'm serious."

On the upside... I got to meet Slash.

This is about where Foghat enters the picture. It's the very first song on Guitar Hero 3. It's the first song because it's the easiest song. Yellow-red-hold on green yellow-red-hold on green yellow-red-hold on green... it's the song you start with when you're a complete DERP at trying to play virtual guitar. It's Guitar Hero: Short Bus Edition.

It's a good training item, but once you get through it twice with more than 80% of the notes played, you feel like you can go try "Welcome to the Jungle" again. But there's Slash, sticking his big old top hat out again to remind you that you still suck. "Back to Foghat with you," he says.

Even real guitarists can't deal with this game... watch HERE as Dave Mustaine says it's "harder than playing real guitar" and Scott Ian can barely get 30% of the way through one of his own songs.

You would swear that the following idea was part of the writing process for every song in the game:

Guitar Hero 5 features "Spirit of Radio" by Rush. This had to be someone being a wiseass. Had to be. If you don't know the song, go to YouTube right now. Play it. Then you'll you'll know why I laughed OUT LOUD when I saw the song list. I've decided not to play it. A) even in strumming-only mode (no fret buttons used), it's a nightmare and B) I don't need Alex Lifeson coming out of that TV next. Maybe he would send Geddy? I'd prefer that. Geddy is wee little man. I could totally take him.

I have since improved a bit. Last time I tried "Welcome To The Jungle", Slash only peeked out briefly and gave me the stinkeye. Once you get the hang of it, it's fun as hell. Now they just need to give me the edition I really want... Guitar Hero: The Who. Come on, we know Pete would sell his own mother for the right price, there's no reason not to expect GH: The Who. The only production challenge is that the game would have to come with 1200 guitars because you'd have to keep smashing them.

Now, one of the other really great things about current video game technology is that you no longer have to sit in the same position, moving nothing but your two thumbs to the point where both of your legs and your ass are asleep (ever get "Nintendo ass"? You know, sitting on a floor, cress-legged for 2 straight hours playing games... you better hope nothing catches fire at that point because running for you life just ain't gonna happen). These days, advanced technology has us acting out the games! Wireless, bluetooth, motion sensors, whatever is going on in those remotes, I don't know, but you can actually go more than 3 feet away from the TV now! (ever forget you were holding a game controller and get up and walk away, pulling the whole game system right off the shelf? Yep. Another hazard of gaming in the 80s)

Skiing, skateboarding, bowling, tennis, baseball, dancing, snowboarding... wait... what? Dancing?

Oh yeah. Now this I got on board with right away. This right here is both exercise and fun rolled up into one. Hmm... what kind of dance game would be fun... let's see...

Oooh! How about that Michael Jackson dance game! I've watched all those music videos most of my life, I can TOTALLY do that, no problem.

I'm gonna stop right here and say this: if you ever find the above thought crossing your mind... just go right to ebay, find yourself a used Atari and a copy of Frogger and call it a day.

If you haven't seen the commercial for this, showing you all kinds of shiny, happy people playing the MJ game, here it is:

And I am telling you right now... that is 100% NOT what happens when real people play.

Turns out, watching those videos a thousand times and knowing the moves does not qualify you for jack diddly crap except maybe having too much damn time on your hands. If you do insist on trying the MJ game, you will need to purchase the required hardware for the game: the Wii-KG machine, set of Wii-fibrillators, intubation kit (also compatible with Wii Sports Resort), crutches and a neck brace (optional). I recommend purchasing the Wii Trauma Bundle. You get all of that, plus the game, as well as a bonus game controller for a friend (more than likely a friend you don't like very much).

Let's put it this way, the "Beat It" and "Thriller" routines are the EASY ones. I'm keeping this game and canceling my Bally's membership right away. (that's not a joke) Additionally, I now know the reason Michael Jackson was so thin his whole life.

Seriously, go try to be "Smooth Criminal" in your living room. Come back and report. Do you know that those creeps had the nerve to include that wacky anti-gravity 45-degree forward lean move in this game? Yeah... I mean this:

The hell?

Yeah, there's no moonwalking, but they saw fit to include this one? You know how MJ did that? Special shoes and pegs on the floor / stage (sorry, Mike, I blew your secret, but in my defense... 1) it's all over the internet anyway and 2) well, you're not exactly going to come get me, are you? O.o)


My game did NOT come with special MJ loafers or pegs for my floor (nope... there were no Anti-GraviWii shoes in the box... maybe in version 2?).

So, I cheat. I make the controller go where it needs to, since that's all it really senses anyway, because if I tried that shit, I'd faceplant. Then I would sue his estate (why not, everyone else and their mother are doing it...).

The thing that bums me out is that in the same way we have amusing videos of real rockers trying to play the music games, I would love to be able to see Michael Jackson here to try to play his own dance game. I bet even MJ would say...

I don't even need to exaggerate about this game. This game *will* kill people. Shit... it probably killed him! Propofol, my ass... he got preliminary copy of the game and "sha'moned" himself to death. This is probably the toned-down version.

Hopefully I can do well enough at the dance game to keep Mike from popping out of that screen, though.


That would be... awkward.

So, if you're going to play this game, here's my advice: Stay far away from any song where MJ was white. Those are impossible. It's no coincidence that I can play the "Thriller" song perfectly and damn near done killed my bad self with "Remember The Time". What I figure, is that the whiter he got, the more he tried to distract us with all the complicated dancing. Knock it off, Mike. You're white, and we can see it. And most of us don't give a damn, we just like it when you dance, so quit it with all the visual trickery.


The long and short of this is that you're never too old, or too young, to enjoy video games. My niece could beat the crap out of me at Wii Bowling when she was 5. And at my advancing age, I could probably beat Scott Ian at Guitar Hero. As long as your having fun, it doesn't matter. And though the playing field has changed since I was a kid, with my little copies of "Rad Racer" and "Dr. Mario", it's still entertaining, still challenging, and still fun as all hell to grab a friend and laugh yourselves insane at how much you suck trying to play "Bohemian Rhapsody" and how impossible it is to try to play "Time Warp" without doing the dance that goes with it.

Just remember: yellow, red, hold on green

People Who Need A Swift Bitchslap: Part Two

(I really shouldn't have to preface this with "It's ALL about comedy, and never meant to offend..." because you all know my humor, but ... well, ya know... everyone is sensitive about everything these days... so, there ya go.)


People Who Need A Swift Bitchslap: Part Two


People who are sensitive about everything. (ha!)

Couples who sit on the same side of a booth in a restaurant. If you aren't dining with anyone else, and it's just you and your partner, then for heaven's sake, sit across from each other.

People who observe that you are clearly very sick and proceed to ask you "Are you sick?"

Any woman over the age of 21 that speaks in a squeaky little girly cutsie voice. (memo: it's not cute)

Men who oogle women that are browsing for panties at the store. Dear Creepy Old Man, I'm shopping at TARGET not Frederick's of Whoreywood... move along please!

People who define their names with an article (talking to you, "The Situation").

People who make up random dopey-ass names for themselves (you again, Sitch! And I'm kind of side-eyeing your pal, "Ochocinco" too...).

Meatloaf should be bitchslapped for the above, and also for about 146 other reasons.

Anyone named "Blagojevich". ANYONE.

Lisa Rinna

Kathy Lee AND Hoda

People who tell you at a funeral that it's nice to see you and then say "I wish it were under better circumstances." That part is understood!! Of COURSE we would want better circumstances, but it's still ok to say it's nice to see someone, even if it's not the ideal situation (or "The Situation"). Honestly, who in hell is going to enter a funeral home and say "Hey it's nice to see you! Good thing Marge took that bungee jumping trip, or we might not have hooked up until New Year's!" I mean, come on!

The Prez's wifey (hey, I wasn't born this morning, I'm not about to type her name into the same post with the word "bitchslap"and end up being visited by the federalis!)

Michael Vick

Parents who laugh and giggle and loudly exclaim over their children in public so that we will all notice WHILE looking around to make sure every stranger in their vicinity is acknowledging whatever cutsey little thing the kid is doing. Sssssstop it.

Double bitchslap to the parents who give you a dirty look if you DON'T smile and laugh and tell them how cute their kid is. Dude, I don't know you. Yes, your kid is really cute, but since when am I under obligation to stop and fawn over your anklemuncher just because he's laughing and wiggling and flinging Goldfish crackers? If I want to observe your kid and tell you he's cute, then I promise you, I will. If I don't, just move on with your day.

People who take offense at what is clearly a joke just because it might in some way apply to them. (that's pre-emptive for all the shit I'm going to catch from people with kids for saying the above, which brings us to...)

Parents who tell non-parents that they don't understand something about children or parenting just because they don't have children. I really should start saying "Hi, thanks for overtly reminding me that I'm old and childless while calling me stupid at the same time!! Have I told you that all your baby weight is FINALLY starting to come off, and just in time for the baby's 19th birthday!! You look SO great!"

Joan Rivers

People who insist that because their document won't print or a web page won't load it's "this damn Windows Vista!" Translation: "I don't know that much about computers, but people seem to hate Vista, so that MUST be what the problem is!!" Usual solution: nothing Vista-related.

People who don't think Betty White is hilarious.

The women from the "Ahh Bra" infomercial.

Absolute strangers telling you "Hey, smile..." or "Cheer up!" if you happen to appear sullen for whatever reason (or for no reason at all... some of us just have the 'mad eyes' and there's nothing we can do about it.). If you say that to someone you should immediately be slapped 4 times. What if their pet just died. What if they've just been fired. As a matter of fact, you don't even know them, why are you saying jack crap to begin with? Extra slap for that.

ELIZABETH HASSELBECK

The entire cast of Glee.

People who... Just. Don't. Get. The. Joke.

The list will, again, continue.




Also available for your reading pleasure...

the original People Who Need A Swift Bitchslap...

The Difference A Year Makes

Actually... that's a stupid title.

The year hasn't "made" the difference. The year didn't do anything. The year just sat there while I had the experiences, the laughs, the pain... the year just sat back in its La-Z-Boy and let me make mistakes, learn new things, build relationships, go on adventures... the year has basically been a lazy bitch while I was out bringing home the bacon.

But anyway...

I recently read back over some old blogs, particularly one that I wrote last year just at this time, a couple of days before I turned 33. So I thought why not review and update.

One change I've made is that in 2 days I will be turning 28. And every birthday forward, I will again turn 28. Never thought I be one of those people but yeah... 28.

It's a little strange to think about how I was just 12 months ago. Like, "Who WAS that person?"

I was unhappy and moody a lot of the time, and I felt like I didn't deserve a lot of the things that had happened and were happening to me. And I was right. However, I didn't know what to do about it, except be upset. So that's the biggest change. I figured out exactly what to do about it: stop taking crap, stop being negative and really appreciate all the good things around me. The negative things and the negative people needed to GO. There is too much good in this world though it may not always seem that way, and wallowing in self-pity accomplishes nothing.

Of course, bad things happen. That's a fact of life. Around this time last year, I sat there listening to gripe after gripe after endless gripe from a friend about all the bad things that were happening. Eventually I realized that most if not all of it was avoidable, changeable and handleable (is that a word?) and all the "bad" things I kept hearing about were the results of a horribly negative attitude and a generous helping of self-victimization. I never want to become one of these people. Nor do I want to do to people what that friend did to me and turn them into casualties of my negativity. My family and friends mean way too much to me for that. So I have a choice: sit around and be pissed and miserable and drive people away, or stop blaming others for my own problems, put on my big-girl panties and deal with it and look at all the GOOD things I've taken for granted.

The choice was obvious.

I've even come to a point of forgiveness for the people I've been hurt by. It's pretty easy to do once you realize that not all people are meant to get along, and sometimes people just don't know any better or don't ever learn.

I recently saw a former friend at the store one day. I almost didn't recognize her, because it's been awhile. It's a long story, but she and I just weren't cut out to be friends. And that's ok, that happens... I was about to say 'hello' to her. I don't have anything against her, and I realize that the parting of ways was both of our fault, and I accept the responsibility for that... and it's been awhile now, so I don't really see a reason not to at least say 'hello' and ask how someone's doing, you know? But she... well... doesn't appear to see it that way, I guess. She looked at me like I was a criminal, so I kind of just filed away the fact that she's holding bad feelings so I kept on going without a word. I guess sometimes it's just better that way. Leave well-enough alone and hope they are happy in whatever they're doing.

Same thing happened with another former friend, in kind of a different manner. I kind of figured, again, it's been awhile, surely some of the ice has melted... nope. In this case though, the parting of ways was brought on by the other party, and while I know it's much better that we not be part of each others lives, I still see no good reason to hold onto a bunch of bad feelings, especially the more time that passes.

So I think the lesson learned in those instances is that some people just aren't capable of change, regardless of your course of action. And again, I don't want to be that type of person.

It's not easy. It's a normal feeling to be upset and hurt when people let you down or when things aren't going well. What I've learned, though, is that sometimes things happen... if there are things that are out of your control, you have to find a positive way to deal with it. If they are things you can do something about, then you have to take action. Ok, this happened, now what can I DO about it and will my action give me the outcome I want? Maybe yes and maybe no... but would you rather NEVER know?

(That was insightful as all hell... I gotta write that one dow- oh... I just did... nevermind)

So here we are, one year later and one thousand lessons learned. About myself, about others I've interacted with, about the people in my life now... and I say, keep it coming. I'm so much NOT the person I was 12 months ago... even 6 months ago... I can directly credit 4 specific people for the vast changes and growth I'm enjoying. I've been happier lately than I've been in a long time.

So to those 4 people I say thank you. It's the best birthday present I've ever received.

It's been awhile...

I didn't realize I hadn't written since March. It's been kind of a wacky year and I guess I just haven't been in the mood.

"The Urge" hasn't really struck me to write, the funny ideas have popped in randomly, but I haven't been in the mindset to follow through.

I'm slowly rediscovering my urge. It's been awhile since my muse struck, as I said, and sometimes life's stresses will take a toll. But that's alright... it happens to us all.

The muse isn't exactly striking, but the urge to write *is*, and that can't be ignored. At least not with me. If the urge is there, it usually means that the ideas aren't far behind. Until then, I think I'll just write about what I'm not writing about and let it flow from there.

Could be another installment of "Anatomy of a Crappy Song"... could be something pop-culturey... I guess we'll see. If I'd remembered to watch Dancing With The Stars, I could give you 3 paragraphs on Bristol Palin alone. And of course, The Hoff. Ohhhhh the wealth of material that lies with The Hoff... it boggles. However, he got booted in week one, so I guess that's the joke in and of itself, with no help from me. Thanks, Hoff. You saved me a little bit of work here. But at the same time, you robbed me of about 16 good 'drunken cheeseburger-eating while doing the tango and wearing the Baywatch speedo' jokes.

That wasn't funny. Pardon me while I scrape some more of this rust off.

So, I'm in search of topics. I'm taking suggestions, by the way.

I can't do news and politics because... well, I just don't read or watch the news all that much anymore. Isn't that sad? But I just can't do it. Almost everything in the media lately ticks me off so much that I can't even tolerate listening to it anymore. I hear it all day long in my office with the Glenn Beck talk radio, and that's about enough to make anyone want to give themselves at-home Lasik surgery with a spork, so that's out.

I can't write about current events or whatever current celebrities happen to be going crazy because I honestly don't know what's going on out there. Again... TV is my enemy. I'm so much happier watching TV shows from the good old days on DVD than I am weeding through a bunch of reality trash like American Idol and Jersey Shore (p.s. are you KIDDING me with that Jersey Shore? I mean... really?). Let me have my "Friends", "Big Love", "Alf" (yes, you heard me, I said "Alf") and Star Trek: TNG, and keep all these insane reality shows the hell away from me.

I can't do sports because I don't watch football or basketball. Football, I just don't understand (I'm not an idiot, I just really don't care that much, so anyone who has ever tried to explain it to me might just as well have been speaking French) and basketball is just intolerable.

I only watch hockey. And really, just how funny and interesting can you be talking about hockey? Not very. Other than the part where I tell you how much fun it is to watch 12 guys at a time bash the intestines out of each other while chasing a little black rubber disk, there isn't much else to say about it.

I don't want to write about the holidays because it's only September, but what I could write about is how I've about had it up to *here* with talk of Christmas because it's only September. It started on September 8th, with the family emails about Christmas Eve dinner (yeah Christine, I know, you have to plan ahead... you and I will just have to agree to disagree on the definition of "plan ahead"... LMAO!). Two days after that... "December 11th is the Christmas party, keep that day open..." Ok, fine... I wrote it down. I'll bother back with it on December 1st. Fair? Yes. A week later, the Christmas trees went up at Woodfield Mall.

By next week, I bet those stupid giant light up things will be erected over in Rosemont and I'll have to look at that every day for 3 months. You know the ones I mean, the ones you can see from 90 (and probably the moon), and I bet you all are as sick of those dumb things as I am. I don't think they've changed that setup in my lifetime.

I ain't even carved a mofo pumpkin yet! There are probably still a few 70-degree days left and I'd like to try to enjoy them without visions of sugarplums dancing in my head, thank you very much.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a grinch, not by any means. I like the holidays and the food and the joy and the love and the whole family being together thing. I really do. I wouldn't trade my family's awesome Christmas Eves for anything and I look forward to it muchly.

I just don't feel like laying out cookies and milk for that jolly fat bastard in September. If I hear one more word about Christmas before November 15th, I swear, I'll slip Santa a mickey and he won't even make it to all y'alls houses, and your little ankle-biters are gonna get shafted. So keep it up with the Christmas jazz and we'll just see!

If you must inundate me with Christmas images so early in the year, then can I please make just one request?

Please bring back that old commercial from the 80s where Santa goes snowmobiling on a giant Norelco shaver. I always used to like that one.

The rest... make like a candy cane and get bent. :-P (joke!)
I have better things to do, such as search for blog topics.

Thank you and good day, sirs.

*blink* *stare*

I really have to start traveling with a notebook and pen, and I have to make a solid effort to stop whatever I'm doing and write down some of the stuff I overhear in public. I'm missing out on so many opportunities for comedy gold by not being prepared.

Some things are just so insane that you can't possibly forget them. These are the things that make you stop whatever it is you're doing and just stare. And blink. And stare some more, because whatever the thing was, it was so damn stupid that you can't believe it just happened and you have to replay it in your head right on the spot. Then you have to check with people around you... "Did he just say...?" "No, really, did I just hear...?" "No, I'm serious, was that real?"

Such was the case last night at Steak N' Shake.

Even if you don't have them where you live, or haven't been to one, the main points of the place are right in the title. but I'll briefly run it down for you... Steakburgers, Shakes, 50s diner decor... basically, it's fast food that you can sit in and eat (booths and servers, not a McDs type thing) or you can get it take out or hit the drive through. Nothing formal.

So I'm sitting there with my friend...

and p.s. - I notice whenever stuff like this happens, I am always the one sitting on the side of the booth where I am facing the people I'm overhearing, so I can't make faces and comments when they utter very stupid things. It's not fair. I hate behaving.

Anyway, the server comes to take our order and she gives the little speech about their current promotion, as she is directed to do, and informed us they they were offering Kool-Aid Shakes and the available flavors were grape and tropical punch.

I can't say I wasn't briefly intrigued, but I'm not totally sure I want to know what Kool-Aid and milk tastes like together, so I chose Diet Coke.

Well, several minutes later, 2 young girls stupided their way into the restaurant and were placed at the booth behind my friend. And of course, the stupider of the two was on the far side, facing me... I'll call her Boxo (my sister's name for people who are "dumber than a box o' rocks").

Well, their server approached, and he gave them the same offer of Kool-Aid Shakes that our server gave us. The outcome was a bit different.

Server: "Blah blah blah Kool-Aid Shakes and the flavors are grape or tropical punch."

Boxo: "Kool-Aid Shake... what's in that?"

Me: *Blink* *Stare*

Server: (explains Kool-Aid Shake)

Boxo: "Oh. Well... do you have just regular Kool-Aid?"

I had an inner conniption fit. Come on, you people know me... you have to know how hard it was to sit there and hear that and not get up and say "No, Boxo, they don't have *just* Kool-Aid. They pour it in the Shakes then they THROW THE REST AWAY."

Believe me, there was more to this, but I don't remember most of it because hearing exchanges like that makes my IQ drop and I haven't recovered yet.

Though a bit later, the server returned, and I didn't hear what he specifically said, because unlike Boxo, he spoke in a normal tone. Boxo was not at all shy about flashing her short bus pass. It was something about a beverage and I heard the words "sweet tea".

Boxo: "Yeah but I like it more sweeter."

I weep for the future.

So in starting to relate this story to another friend, I was pointed to the direction of the following blog:


http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/


I'm all over this now. Because I know these are real. You read this stuff and think "No way, that's made up!"

No. Someone really said that. It is a world full of Boxos out there. I'll prove it... I don't even need to explain the background or the context with this one... this comment tells the whole story all by itself and I promise, it's real...

"It's not so much a window as it is a... big pane of glass."

I should have the victim of that one submit that to "Overheard in New York". They won't know it was heard in Chicago. They can't check. We'll put one over on them but good.

*Blink* *Stare*

Nope. IQ not recovered yet. Try again tomorrow.

'Scuse me while I kiss this guy...

Nope, I'm not going to write about misheard lyrics (at least not today!) or Jimi Hendrix songs.

I'm going to discuss rainbows and why I want them returned to all of the people of the world.

Rainbows are colorful, fun, enjoyable symbols of happiness. Rainbows make us think of childrens' toys, Olympic rings and Lucky Charms. Come on, Pink Hearts, Orange Stars, Yellow Moons, Green Clovers, Blue Diamonds.... and Purple Horseshoes!

In the 1970', however, a crime was committed. The gay community took the rainbow.

A sidenote that needs not be made to anyone that's known me for more than five minutes: gays are 100% equal to all other people on Earth and deserve every single thing straights have available to them.

Having said that, the same goes for non-gays. WE deserve the rainbow too.

I want it back and I want it back right now.

What, you think you get to just come in and claim a meteorological phenomenon for your own? You can't just march in like Neil Armstrong and stick a rainbow flag down and say "mine", what the hell is that about?

You know what? The Sun. It's mine. I want it. It's my symbol and from here on out, all uses of the Sun will be a symbol of the wonderfulness that is Kim. Done.

What? I can't have the sun? Why? It's there, I like it, and I want it. It is going to symbolize me and everyone will call me Sunshine from now on, because that's ME. I'm a SUNNY person.

Ok, nevermind... I see the flaw.

Forget the sun. I will take the gray raincloud.

You see my point? You can't just claim a random weather occurance as your own.

I like rainbows. You know what happened when I created a line of rainbow hay bales in Farmville? I got an invitation to a facebook group for GLBT members.

Again, I have no problem with the GLBT groups - all the love in the world to them... but now I can't even arrange cartoon hay bales into a happy design without people making assumptions about me. Now I know how black guys feel when they hear car doors lock as they walk down the street.

So, no, sorry, you can't have the rainbow. Pick something else. What about that purple triangle business? You all still doing that? You can have that. I don't care much for triangles. They have three sides, which is not an even number, so I haven't much use for that. And purple is a great color but I'm willing to live without it if the gay community absolutely needs to have their own color.

But that's the thing... you get ONE color. The Irish have green and are happy with that. You don't get to come in and take ALL the colors. What the hell?

So get together, pick one color... choose a shape as well, if you must, and give the rest of them back, you greedy-asses.

Thanks.

17 Days of Addiction - A Midwestern Girl's Story

It's an addiction worse than alcohol, cigarettes, crack or Chipotle.

It's the Winter Olympics.

I LOVE the Winter Olympics. It started with the '88 games in Calgary. We did Olympic themed projects in class. We had to pick a piece of paper out of a dish or a box or something - each piece of paper had a different type of project noted on it. The one I chose turned out to be a diorama.

We were allowed our own choice of Olympic topic. I chose, for some reason, Alpine skiing. In the end, my diorama really sucked. If I remember right, I had to supply an accompanying report about Alpine skiing. I'm sure the report is probably what saved my grade, because the diorama was an absolute piece of crap. But for a 6th grader, I guess it was passable. I had a papier mache skier with popsicle stick skis, cruising down a cottonball mountain inside one half of a shirtbox.

Guess what? Papier mache is heavier than cotton. I don't recall what, precisely, I did to fix it, but eventually the skier was gerry-rigged into a manageable position, at least enough to transport it to school.

And that was what sparked my Olympic fever.

As I write, I'm looking at www.nbcolympics.com - this is going in my favorites immediately.

The only other time I get this nuts about sports and tv schedules is at NHL Playoff time. But this is worse... this takes much more attention. This is 17 straight days of events that isn't going to happen for another 4 years.

This is also Apolo Ohno's last Olympic competition. As it is I'm missing his first races tomorrow... can't let that happen for the rest of the games. Speed skating used to bore me. With the Salt Lake and Turin games, I watched it anyway, and MAN that is some wild stuff. I like when they crash!! I mean... I like when the skaters from the other countries crash. Into each other, into the wall, into Olympic officials, into a crowd - don't care, it's awesome!! (as long as no one gets seriously hurt, of course)

Skiing... more crashing. Can't miss a minute!

Figure skating... I never miss this. Apart from the crashing (I can't help it... if it isn't the US skaters, I laugh when they fall down. You do too, ADMIT IT!), I really enjoy the figure skating events, especially the pairs. I'm jealous! I wish I could do that. I spent my childhood outside popping rolls of caps with a rock because my very gender-specific mother would not allow me to have a cap gun. Not because it was a gun - but because it was a "boy's toy". I could go off on a SERIOUS rant here, but I'll save it for another blog. Anyway, while I was playing pretend-cap gun with rocks, other children were learning to figure skate. Those children grew up with a skill (or a developed talent, whichever way you want to look at it). I grew up to watch them on TV, green with envy.

In my defense though, no one ever told me I couldn't get on a Wheaties box by being talented at firing off caps without a cap gun. And so far, Olympic Playing In The Dirt and Olympic Write Your Name on the Sidewalk with A Stick and A Lightning Bug have not been added to the event list. Fingers crossed for 2014, though!!

Snowboarding - one of the newer events. I like it. Those tricks they can do... amazing. One thing is a little unsettling about this year's Snowboarding events though... Shaun White is back. Don't get me wrong, he's good, and fun to watch... but I'm glad those snowboarders wear all that gear on their heads because that Shaun White is getting tougher and tougher to look at. Cute little kid he was... now he looks like Carrot Top and Rocky Dennis had a baby.

(My apologies to the late Rocky Dennis for that comment - I'm referring to the Eric Stoltz version from the movie, which was far exaggerated from the real Rocky.

No apologies to to Carrot Top.)

The Luge! When I was a kid I thought this was the coolest thing ever and I wanted to do it so badly! Just once! Now... it's still pretty cool, but I think I'd freak out if I was actually on one of those things speeding through an ice chute. Plus, I'm in no mood to have to work out my ass muscles - excuse me - I mean glutes - so I could control the thing. Isn't that how they do it? Weight shifting and whatnot? I should look this up, lest I appear that I don't know what I'm talking about.

Second thought... nah... I don't really care that much. Just watching and waiting for them to flip over at 100mph. But not the USA guys. Need to be clear on that.

(edit: I did not know about the luge accident in Vancouver when I wrote this. I won't edit, I'm not going to censor, but of course, I was merely being humorous... I've seen games where the lugers fall off, get up, brush off, and go again... and that's all I really was referring to. It's terrible what happened in Vancouver today and my thoughts go out to Nodar Kumaritashvili's family.)


Now for what I don't love about the Winter Olympics...

Curling. Seriously? This is a sport? Push-brooming a path so a rounded weight can travel across an ice rink at mach snail?

I had never seen curling before the '02 Olympics. Regardless of when the event is held, they don't air it until 2 or 3 a.m., which I suppose is because no one cares. So I was curious, and I stayed up one night to see what it was.

I remember it, I was sitting on the couch, waiting for something to happen...

*blink*

"Push brooms? Are they janitors?"

*stare*

"Is this all they're going to do?"

*blinkblink*

"Can't that round thing go any faster?"

Never again. Keep that crap on at 3 a.m.

Cross-country skiing... can I ask... why? I must be missing something, but I find it really boring. I understand speed and timing and all that... but they're just moving over flat land. That's no fun! Bring on the Hot-Dog Aerials! (do they still call it that?)

(Hot Dog Aerials! <-- band name!)

Hey, what's that? Oooh, shiny...

Huh? Oh. Where was I?

Oh right - Olympic Joy...

Commences tonight! Opening ceremonies on NBC. Check your local listings!

Loss Angle Ease - A Boring Narrative

Note: I very much bit the biggie on publishing this in a timely manner. I began it around Jan. 27th or so. But anyway...

Getting the hell out of dodge in the middle of Chicago winter - I am a fan.

And what better place to escape than sunny SoCal?

Well, sunny yes, but I might have liked 65-70ish degrees. Still... 58 wasn't the worst idea ever, compared to what I left behind.

It was your run of the mill airplane ride. Nothing exciting to report - until after the layover in Phoenix, at least.

By the way, when did the Phoenix airport randomly expand? I'm no stranger to Sky Harbor, but I don't remember the (former) America West concourse stretching from Phoenix to Palm Springs. I half expected to reach the other side of the concourse and be in Burbank.

This is where it got exciting. The one-hour jaunt from Phoenix to Burbank took place aboard one of those little planes, the kind where instead of a jetway, you exit the plane down a little staircase, especially when you arrive at a small airport, like Burbank. I've never done that before. I felt like the Beatles in those old pictures you see where they first came to America!! (I'm easily amused)

Now, FLYING on those little damn things is another matter. Again, I've never had to do this. Seems I've only ever flown to and from major hubs - Chicago, LaGuardia, LAX, Orlando, Sky Harbor... so Burbank was a new deal. On the way back home, the small plane/short flight from Burbank to Phoenix was a problem right away. We chose the exit row seats (leg room is important!). Well, the little plastic hatch that covers the handle of the emergency exit door kept popping open right next to my head. After the 3rd time, I discovered why. It was held on by velcro - oh yes, I said VELCRO - and the stickiness on the back of the velcro was no longer sticky, hence, the popping-open trouble.

Now, let's stop a minute. See, here's the thing. I don't want to get on a plane and, for ANY reason, see velcro. It's an airplane!! We do not fix broken items on airplanes, with VELCRO.

Dear US Airways: Are you friggin' kidding me? Thanks, Kim

(sidenote: had this been Southwest Airlines, I wouldn't have been the lest bit surprised to see velcro)

Ok, back to Cali.

It was late and we needed dinner. There was a Domino's menu in our room, so we made dinner come to us. Now - I don't particular like Domino's (hey I'm a Chicagoan... pizza is a food group and Domino's is sacrilegious) but in a pinch it will do. Barely. I've had a previous experience with pizza in California and "wet cardboard" is what comes to mind. But this is Domino's - they're national so it's all going to be the same, right?

No.

California screws up food. They just do. They also screwed up Del Taco and In & Out Burger. Hey, Californians... wander over to Arizona and have In & Out Burger. THAT is what it's supposed to taste like.

However, California managed to make up for disastrous food when I visited Porto's Bakery & Cafe at Hollywood Way and Magnolia in Burbank (I have to be specific for future personal reference. My memory sucks). Can you say "pastrygasm"? I can! And I had one. Ok I had several. Om nom nom.

Driving. Oh, dear heaven, the driving.

Now, I dealt with the 101 freeway in Phoenix for over 4 years, and I thought that was the absolute worst it could possibly get, so the idea of having to drive in CA didn't scare me that much. But I've changed my mind. Let me ask a question here... hey Californians (past or present)... who in hell taught you people how to change lanes? No I'm serious... because I have some rather urgent news: You're doing it wrong!

The term "change lanes" means you are expected to maintain your speed and drive carefully over INTO the next lane and keep going. ALL the way into the next lane. It does not mean aim your car in the general direction of the lane you hope to be in at some point in your future, traverse only halfway into said lane, and then STOP.

You can't change lanes properly, but you will ride my ass like Brokeback Mountain when I don't do 50 mph down the insanely twisty road through Laurel Canyon? I'm not going fast enough for you down a curvy mountain road where the speed limit drops below 30, but you'll stop mid-lane-change on a city street at a green light? And you wonder why people dislike CA drivers. THAT'S WHY.

(To be fair, they would visit Chicago and demand to know why we will pull out halfway across a busy road and block one side of traffic to make a left turn... that is perfectly acceptable here, so I wonder if that lane changing madness is just 'their way' out there?)

Did anything good happen on this trip in between scary, dottering airplanes and playing real-life Mario Kart down Cahuenga Blvd.? Absolutely!

After Saturday morning's frightful drive down Laurel Canyon Blvd. (which should promptly be renamed "Shit Your Pants Avenue", but whatever), we arrived at the Hollywood Walk of Fame. We parked the car in a garage, got out, and this was the first thing we saw:

I had to triple take this one. It was a walking joke...

"Elmo and Elvis are walking down the street..."

I'd seen the walk of fame before, but it's kind of fun, and there were a few stars I've not seen, one in particular that was not there the last time I visited...

It is, of course, mandatory to sit on the stars...

And I refused to leave without seeing this one... may not be readable, but it's JOHNNY DEPP:

And of course - tribute must be paid:

And under the heading of "Absolutely Random":

One thing I had not done before was visit Madame Tussaud's, the wax museum. It's right there on the Boulevard, so ... why not, right?

It was both fun and creepy. They are not kidding around with those wax celebrities, man.

When you first enter, they tell you "step over and pose with the President!" (and by God, they are excited about it!) So we did:

Now, these figures, keep in mind, are supposed to be accurate in height, shape, etc. I'm about 5'3"ish, maybe just under 5'4"... Obama be a tall dude, mang!

Some of these figures are so real looking that it's actually a little creepy. I think it took about 20 minutes before I stopped being fully weirded out. You'd think it would be cool to sit with George Clooney, and it probably would be... but when he's staring you down and not blinking... not so much. I remember saying something to Rhi as she posed with WaxGeorge along the way of "I can't even take this picture, he's staring holes through me!"

But here we go:

Right near George was this guy (and we all know how I feel about this guy):

THUD.

But also, not thud. Also... very odd. "Oh hi there, WaxJohn. 'Sup?"

And you know what I forgot to do?! Check for... baggage. See, the figures are made to the right height and shape - so are they accurate in other ways also? I should have checked! Might have been worth getting thrown out of the museum, actually.

"Can you wire me bail money? I've been arrested in Hollywood for sexually assaulting a wax figure."



Across the way (and I refused to photograph this) were Brad and Angelina, and in Absolute Hollywood Tactless Fashion, across the room from them is a lone Jennifer Aniston, posed as if she's standing there staring at them. *shakes head* Just wow.

Now, this one was wild (in a cool way of course)... The Duke:

That guy was a skyscraper!!

So, we wandered around the rest of the museum, along the Walk of Fame some more, a nice drive through Beverly Hills and Bel Air... and then took a drive up the coast. A lovely day, overall.

Sidenote:

It's impossible to enter Bel Air and NOT start singing the Fresh Prince song if you are under 40 years old.

Matter of fact, it's impossible for someone to even mention the Fresh Prince song and not start singing it. You know you're doing it right now.

"In west Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days..."

On the way back to the hotel that evening, we passed a tiny shop (or house... I'm not sure) that screamed "PALM READINGS" in big neon.

This could be interesting, thought we. Actually, thought she, but I went along with it. I'm not as much a believer in that kind of stuff... cosmic unexexplainables do happen to me rather often though, so I'm not closed off to the idea.

Well, here I was sitting in the little foyer/waiting area, listening to this palm reader lady, Chanel (I believe that was it), talking to Rhiannon. The more I listened, the more stunned I was. This is almost warranting a blog of its own. But it won't. Too personal. This woman knew things she couldn't have possibly known. She described in pretty great detail (during both of our readings, actually) things that not one person outside the two of us would know. That's all I will say about that, as my only point was to illustrate my shock.

After hearing everything she told my friend, I decided that I did not want to do it. I was afraid of what I would hear and decided there just may be some things I was better of not having answers to.

But, I did it anyway. It's still hard for me to really buy the whole "psychic" thing, but I can't figure how this lady was able to describe certain things to me in such detail without me telling her anything.

So, highly weirded out by the experience (me) and also very excited about it (Rhi), we left, talking in further detail about what we'd just been told by this mysterious stranger.

I am stuck with no segue here, so basically, that was the end of the evening. Heh heh.

Sunday brought forth a trip to the Universal City Walk and another ride to the Walk of Fame area to visit a really large and very cool thrift shop on Hollywood Blvd. called Iguana Vintage Clothing.

Here you go: http://www.iguanaclothing.com/

I managed to make it out without buying anything, which I'm regretting slightly. I combed through all the old sports jerseys and tshirts looking for a specific gift and foo... found nothing that would work. I also went through all the old bowling shirts with embroidered names like Fred, Al, Don and no less than 26 Herbs. Sadly, I did not find one funny enough for me to spend $20 on.

Sunday ALSO brought the movie geek out of me. Driving down Hollywood, we passed Genesee Avenue. I had to turn. I just had to see it. HAD to see... 1428 Genesee Avenue.

You would know it as...

"1428 Elm Street"

Squeek!

The house that was Johnny Depp's house in the movie is right across the street (just as in the film) but, if I was looking at the right one, it didn't look quite the same anymore. And I didn't take a picture. It was bad enough I stopped to photograph one stranger's home. O.o (I don't make a habit of things like that - I promise)

Then... more driving around. Now the fun part in all the driving was listening to my faithful companion completely MANGLE all the Los Angeles street names.

I recommend this, if you can. And I will also use it as my send off to you on this entry... best time you'll ever have - go to Los Angeles and take a friend who is not hooked on phonics. Endless entertainment.

Blogger Challenge Accepted - Interview #1

Received this challenge. I haven't read the challenger's answers - it's another one of our tin foil hat experiments.

We (meaning "she") pulled these questions from this blog:

http://www.mommywantsvodka.com/?p=3230

1) Dave and I have a long-standing feud over cheese in a can. He thinks it’s food of The Gods while I think it’s probably Of The Devil. Your take?

Intolerable. Unless I happen to be drinking.

2) Is there any way you can think of to make the elder Gosselins go away? I AM ALL EARS.

A small padlocked shed, a gross of firecrackers and 5 or 6 wolverines. Bonus points if we have room to toss in Sarah Palin.

3) Who is your ridiculous “I can’t admit this to anyone in polite company lest I be banned from life” crush?

This isn't really a fair question. I don't want to be banned from life. How would I get to see seasons 3 and 4 of "Big Love"?

Edit. I'm dopey. I never answered the question. I don't really have any crushes I wouldn't admit. Johnny Depp... Steve Perry in 1980... and 1981... and 1986... Apolo Ohno... Matt LeBlanc (How YOU dooooinnn'?!)...

...ok wait I thought of one. In 1995 I thought Kato Kaelin was cute. Eventually he opened his mouth and started talking, thus very effectively ruining it.

4) If you could fuck it all and pursue your dream (assuming, of course, you were going to be GOOD at it), what would that dream be?

Writing. Or Ice Hockey. But probably writing. Hurts less.

5) They say “living well is the best revenge.” I think they are wrong. Do you?

"They"? "They" who? Screw "them". I'll live how I want and do what's good for me. "They" can all kiss my tit.

6) What is the most humiliation you’ve experienced in public that you’d be willing to admit to The Internet?

I don't really want to tell the Yankee Candle Store story. That was pretty bad. Only one witness at least. (and now I've become a tease... suffer!)


I suppose I could insert any number of falling down stories, cuz, you know, I do that. My best exit from such embarrassment was as follows... crossing a 4 lane road one day, and did one of those "trip over nothing" moves. The person I was with stared at me like, "there's not even anything there to trip over, what's wrong with you?" I pointed to the white lane marker... "They painted that too thick. That's a hazard."

7) Are you honest with The Internet? Like, if I came over to your house tonight (heh)(I’m coming over, yo)(heh) would I be surprised at who I found?


Pretty honest, I guess, though I'm careful about who I give what info to.


8 ) If you could have one talent that you don’t currently possess, what would it be?


Is "not overreacting" a talent?

9) There’s not always room for Jello. Is there?

No, there is not. What if I JUST ate? What if I just ate a giant feast? What if I am full to brim? You think I'm gonna pile questionably-flavored green wiggly shit into a tummy with no room in it? No. Know why? Because there might be cake. I'm not gonna eat jello and then find out there is cake. Heads will roll.

10) What’s your guiltiest of the guilty pleasures?


Believe me, no one wants that image in their head.

So, I'll just say... watching Olympic figure skating (and laughing when non-USA competitors fall on their ass and complete their routines fighting back tears).

FIN.