By Greg Evans
There is no easier and more inerrant measure for determining the constitution of a person then by observing them at the dinner table.
I was sitting in a pizza place the other day waiting for my large cheese pizza to be served to the table which I eat every Friday night because Friday is pizza night. Occasionally I will have it on a Wednesday or Sunday but it doesn't taste the same as it does on Friday. I was sitting there observing the people around me eating their meals and certain practices struck me as not only disturbing but wholly manic behavior that made me feel unusually uncomfortable. With each order that arrived at a table the first thing the person did, before even trying their dish was reach for the salt shaker and start covering their food with the small white hypertension crystals. One seemingly normal person after the other in robotic fashion would pick up the salt shaker and begin shaking it wildly, contorting their faces and disjointing their wrists for the perfect shake and the sound, the chica, chica, chica, chica, chica, chica, was beginning to drive me mad. I ordered three Guinnesses from the waitress who suspiciously asked me for my ID and said I can't order beer for people who aren't here yet. "They are all for me dammit!" I howled and whipped out my taser with the full intention of zapping the liberal cow but she shrieked and scurried off to the kitchen. I was sure my time at the restaurant was now on borrowed time and I wouldn't have lost it if it wasn't for the hideous salt craze sweeping through the mountains like a reemergence of the crack epidemic of the 80's. Along with the excessive and unnecessary use of the sodium was the unmistakable and bi-polar affliction with the constant checking of the cell phone. Every three minutes these neurotics staring wildly at their cell phones. It was none of my business but I simply couldn't ignore the deviants. It was a miserable distraction. How can one expect to go out and have a nice dinner in a pizzeria or any restaurant for that matter anymore with everyone checking their damn cell phones throughout the entire meal . If I am at dinner with some schmuck who can't keep the damn phone in their pocket it will take a $400 trip out the window into the parking lot.
How far life has progressed with all the stupid cell phones and salt shakers turning us into schizophrenics. Not to mention the fact that the pizza is excessively salty and people wonder why they can't sleep at night and turn to sleeping pills and wonder why they end up on a dirty mattress in some flophouse in Queens ravaged by scabies. I don't trust people who cover their food in salt before trying it first. Most likely they are promiscuous sexual perverts with no convictions on anything but grotty photos uploaded to pin-interest and Facebook stalking. Salt used to have the value of gold, but now is worth about the value of the liberal vote. I probably lost about 600 readers with that line. The road ways and highways are peppered with salt junkies, haphazardly driving with a volcano taco in one hand and a salt shaker in the other. I heard a rumor not long ago that Prius was planning on building their cars with salt dispensers right there beneath the steering wheel. It's marketing genius in my opinion.
For whatever reason the snotty little waitress didn't squeal to management about my antics and instead brought me my beer. I chugged the first two in record time as a family of four scowled at me from the adjacent table. In what seemed like an eternity my pizza finally arrived and I wondered if each member of the staff took turns hacking spit bombs over the entire thing, but I figured I caused enough trouble in the place to send it back. Doing that in this day and age is a recipe for contracting Tuberculosis or Swine Flu. In my younger years working in the food industry if the food we served was poor or took too long and the customer was unhappy then we took it upon ourselves to produce for them a new higher quality dish. We took pride in our work back then and only one time did I ever encounter a dirty fellow who would spit on somebody's food if they had a complaint. He didn't last long and one day was dragged out into the alley by the security brutes and never seen again.
It doesn't matter what kind of eatery you go to, a fancy restaurant or a fast food chain you will be surrounded by the salt junkie culture and they are a ferocious. During one of my stints of low-level employment some years ago I remember how sought after a commodity the salt was and no matter how often it was refilled, it just as quickly depleted and people would be scurrying around the room, pulling out items from the cabinets in a furious rage, flipping over tables looking for any loose granules of salt that may have fallen off somebodies double cheeseburger. Even back then I remember contemplating opening up a salt stand right there in the break room and charging $25 an ounce for the white gold. The health habits of the majority of people you pass by on the street are absolutely horrible. People love to talk about their fad diets and their elimination of starches like potatoes and spaghetti, no bread and no corn, while shoveling a bunless triple cheeseburger with extra salt and a 54 ounce coca cola down their throats. The sugar phenomena is another story that will have to be covered on another day. The one sure thing about human beings is that they have always been the same and they will be the same until the world ends in the year 3797. Archeologists who have studied the ancient Egyptians found that many of them were suffering from excessive plaque build up in their bodies from eating "garbage", fatty foods probably laden with sodium. They were no different then Joe the Plummer gorging on a plate a french fried potatoes. Who are you kidding? I wouldn't ban salt. Even if I was the Mayor of New York City I wouldn't ban salt just because I disagree with the overuse of the substance it is the choice of the fat population to do as they wish. If people are offended by the usage of the term "fat" then by God stop eating McDonalds and start eating Quinoa. It's not rocket science but everyone is so darn sensitive. I don't make fun of fat people to their faces because I am a courteous person and I am not out to hurt people's feelings but I in my head I am dissecting the human race. Who doesn't do that? Everyone is judging each other from the wreckage of their outfits worn that day to the stupid hair do to the new gait to the ridiculous boyfriend or girlfriend. I know people judge me, they do it all the time. They send me crazy emails about how wrong I am about everything and how stupid my views are and how I should find the nearest bridge and take a plunge but the fact of the matter is that I couldn't give two hoots about any judgements of me. The wonderful thing about being an imperfect cynic is that nothing anyone says is any surprise!
So where does that leave us now? Maybe this will give you something to think about tonight while you lay in bed suffering from insomnia trying to subtly flip on the dirty showtime late night movies hoping that your spouse doesn't wake up and catch you. Or maybe you are a loser and your spouse packed up and ran off with your brother and you are alone with an empty bottle of wine staring up at the ceiling dreading having to go into the office in the mourning to listen to the boss complain about what a schmuck you are. But life doesn't have to get you down. The trick is to face it with a little sense of humor and the realization that that terrible day you are having is going to end and who knows, maybe the next day some Victoria's Secret model or a J-Crew model will sit next to you at Balthazar's for breakfast and beg you for a date. Talk about optimism. Maybe if you used 1/1,000 the amount of salt your used to, you might become as cynical and optimistic as me. The first major I ever considered during my freshman year at Manhattan College in the Bronx, NY was psychology. I have always been fascinated by people, human nature, human sexuality, human diets, human everything and I imagine you can tell this is the case from my rantings. We are not strangers in this world, we are individuals, granted some downright lunatics, but still individual souls and each one with a story to tell. But if you keep ingesting the records amounts of sodium you won't be around long enough to tell your own story. Einstein once said, "I'm not sure if I'm the one that's crazy, or if everyone else is!" You won't find that kind of wisdom in the salt shaker.
Simple Life
Monday, July 29, 2013
Sunday, July 28, 2013
A GENERATION OF TWEEDS
By Greg Evans
The first time I learned we were in trouble as a people, was when I was judged on the merit of the education for which I long ago forgot.
I am sick and tired of elitism and the beast it stands for, like the throbbing itch of a fat mosquito bite under the thigh and every time you put original strength Benadryl itch stopping cream on it to sooth the agony the shorts wipe it away before it has a chance to work. At every turn, in every facet of life it seems I have come in contact with the toffee-nosed personality that makes me want to reach for the hard object for which to bludgeon the louse. Early on in my post collegiate years of struggling in the throngs of minimum wage misery in a coffee shop with a fixed customer friendly smile and quivering eyes, I would regularly receive customers in my mid-town manhattan location who acted as if they just got out of the premier of the latest Hollywood blockbuster film. Dressed to the nines with the sunglasses on even though it was getting dark out, ten pounds of makeup on both the guys and girls, reeking of cologne and perfume they would put on their elitist attitude as if the world owed them recognition without having to earn it. They were stars in their own heads, walking around as if everyone in the place was staring at them, wondering which celebrity they were when they were nothing but two-bit schmucks probably living in some studio flat in Astoria. Everyday after their job in some deadbeat salon or street marketing $9.00/hr job they'd get all dolled up and head into the glitz of Manhattan and wait to be discovered. It was a sad show and we all could see right through the act.'
Then you have to deal with the human resource associates who take themselves ultra serious, getting off on the rejection of candidates who could run circles around them in the real world. The GPA phenomena of the 21st century is the pit in the owl's stomach. The facade that some people out there are somehow exclusive because they were able to memorize more journal entries than another person and therefore are the only ones worthy of the hallowed halls of Ernst & Young or Deloitte. It is a manic practice that has left many companies having to deal with lazy halfwits with the work ethic of a clam and regular instances of fraud and scandalous behavior because they cared solely about the GPA and didn't bother to check up on the person's actual working habits and behaviors. Is it any wonder the world is run by B and C students. Do you think I just made that up, then you are sorely mistaken. The way the world works people, is that A students teach the B student who work for the C students. That is an actual quote by I believe a psychologist from somewhere in the past. The problems we have today in the world stem from the fact that too much weight is given to academics and not enough weight is judged on who the person actually is. In the late 1960's PricewaterhouseCoopers in New York City realized that the ivy league students were performing as well as they had hoped. They were regularly disappointed by the ivy leaguers and the upper 5% of the class who they were hiring. In an experiment they began hiring non-ivy league students who were average students and they were amazed to learn that they did the better work, stayed with the company and worked their way up and were more productive. The other A students and Ivy league kids had poor work habits and elitist attitudes and didn't feel like some of the work assigned to them was worthy of their high-level degree. That my friends is not fiction but cold hard facts. Whether or not PwC still follows that practice I don't know, but for a while it worked and while it did there is no record of unethical behavior going on. Arthur Andersen, known to hire only the top of the class from the top schools ran into terrible ethical problems primarily, I believe, out of the Atlanta office and that company was forced to close its doors after the Enron scandal. Though you may accuse me of speaking shallowly toward academia don't forget that I have two degrees from great institutions one ranked in the top five in the world and I work 40 hours a week with a great company, but it is the principle that bothers me and I think it is wrecking the country which each year these unfaithful practices continue. The whole thing in my opinion stems from laziness in the corporate structure and an elitist aura that needs to be eliminated from society because it has no place. I have used the accounting field to talk about because I spoke recently to a friend who traveled up to Chicago in the hopes of landing an accounting job with a CPA firm. He holds a bachlor's degree with a 3.9 GPA and a Master's in Accounting with a 3.4 GPA. During the interview he was asked, "of course" what his graduate school GPA was and he said 3.4. The hiring manager said, "Sorry we only hire candidates with 3.5 or higher." And there my fellow cynics you have the answer to much of the problems with contemporary America and the reasons why the future of corporate America is doomed. They didn't care about his past work ethic and the fact that he went through school while raising two children while his wife was working. That hiring manager should be taken to a local park and put into stocks for 8 hours. It all has become a butchering like I've never seen before. Chicago needs George S. Patton to whip it into shape. Had Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton, two notoriously poor academic students ever applied to entry-level accounting work at that sham of a CPA firm they too would have been rejected. The list of great minds who had fretted and fought their way to the top of their fields despite waves of mediocrity desperatly trying to stymie their production and progress throughout the entire journey. It is an inevitability that anyone must face when recognizing that for which they are intensely passionate and working toward a career in that endeavor.
The answer to the problem is to stay focused and disciplined and never, never give in to the hacks and deny the world the gifts you have to offer. It is documented by one of his ex-wives that Ernest Hemingway, early on in his desire to become an established novelist used to sit before his typewriter sobbing with a stack of rejection letters in his lap wondering if he was ever going to make it as a writer. The hacks just didn't think he was good enough and today his work is Canonized. The mediocre minds, the elitists will never stop attempting to belittle the great minds. It is a peculiar conundrum. Walt Disney was told once by an editor of a newspaper where he worked that he was "not creative enough to ever make it in the newspaper industry." Want more...? I can go all night.
The first time I learned we were in trouble as a people, was when I was judged on the merit of the education for which I long ago forgot.
I am sick and tired of elitism and the beast it stands for, like the throbbing itch of a fat mosquito bite under the thigh and every time you put original strength Benadryl itch stopping cream on it to sooth the agony the shorts wipe it away before it has a chance to work. At every turn, in every facet of life it seems I have come in contact with the toffee-nosed personality that makes me want to reach for the hard object for which to bludgeon the louse. Early on in my post collegiate years of struggling in the throngs of minimum wage misery in a coffee shop with a fixed customer friendly smile and quivering eyes, I would regularly receive customers in my mid-town manhattan location who acted as if they just got out of the premier of the latest Hollywood blockbuster film. Dressed to the nines with the sunglasses on even though it was getting dark out, ten pounds of makeup on both the guys and girls, reeking of cologne and perfume they would put on their elitist attitude as if the world owed them recognition without having to earn it. They were stars in their own heads, walking around as if everyone in the place was staring at them, wondering which celebrity they were when they were nothing but two-bit schmucks probably living in some studio flat in Astoria. Everyday after their job in some deadbeat salon or street marketing $9.00/hr job they'd get all dolled up and head into the glitz of Manhattan and wait to be discovered. It was a sad show and we all could see right through the act.'
Then you have to deal with the human resource associates who take themselves ultra serious, getting off on the rejection of candidates who could run circles around them in the real world. The GPA phenomena of the 21st century is the pit in the owl's stomach. The facade that some people out there are somehow exclusive because they were able to memorize more journal entries than another person and therefore are the only ones worthy of the hallowed halls of Ernst & Young or Deloitte. It is a manic practice that has left many companies having to deal with lazy halfwits with the work ethic of a clam and regular instances of fraud and scandalous behavior because they cared solely about the GPA and didn't bother to check up on the person's actual working habits and behaviors. Is it any wonder the world is run by B and C students. Do you think I just made that up, then you are sorely mistaken. The way the world works people, is that A students teach the B student who work for the C students. That is an actual quote by I believe a psychologist from somewhere in the past. The problems we have today in the world stem from the fact that too much weight is given to academics and not enough weight is judged on who the person actually is. In the late 1960's PricewaterhouseCoopers in New York City realized that the ivy league students were performing as well as they had hoped. They were regularly disappointed by the ivy leaguers and the upper 5% of the class who they were hiring. In an experiment they began hiring non-ivy league students who were average students and they were amazed to learn that they did the better work, stayed with the company and worked their way up and were more productive. The other A students and Ivy league kids had poor work habits and elitist attitudes and didn't feel like some of the work assigned to them was worthy of their high-level degree. That my friends is not fiction but cold hard facts. Whether or not PwC still follows that practice I don't know, but for a while it worked and while it did there is no record of unethical behavior going on. Arthur Andersen, known to hire only the top of the class from the top schools ran into terrible ethical problems primarily, I believe, out of the Atlanta office and that company was forced to close its doors after the Enron scandal. Though you may accuse me of speaking shallowly toward academia don't forget that I have two degrees from great institutions one ranked in the top five in the world and I work 40 hours a week with a great company, but it is the principle that bothers me and I think it is wrecking the country which each year these unfaithful practices continue. The whole thing in my opinion stems from laziness in the corporate structure and an elitist aura that needs to be eliminated from society because it has no place. I have used the accounting field to talk about because I spoke recently to a friend who traveled up to Chicago in the hopes of landing an accounting job with a CPA firm. He holds a bachlor's degree with a 3.9 GPA and a Master's in Accounting with a 3.4 GPA. During the interview he was asked, "of course" what his graduate school GPA was and he said 3.4. The hiring manager said, "Sorry we only hire candidates with 3.5 or higher." And there my fellow cynics you have the answer to much of the problems with contemporary America and the reasons why the future of corporate America is doomed. They didn't care about his past work ethic and the fact that he went through school while raising two children while his wife was working. That hiring manager should be taken to a local park and put into stocks for 8 hours. It all has become a butchering like I've never seen before. Chicago needs George S. Patton to whip it into shape. Had Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton, two notoriously poor academic students ever applied to entry-level accounting work at that sham of a CPA firm they too would have been rejected. The list of great minds who had fretted and fought their way to the top of their fields despite waves of mediocrity desperatly trying to stymie their production and progress throughout the entire journey. It is an inevitability that anyone must face when recognizing that for which they are intensely passionate and working toward a career in that endeavor.
The answer to the problem is to stay focused and disciplined and never, never give in to the hacks and deny the world the gifts you have to offer. It is documented by one of his ex-wives that Ernest Hemingway, early on in his desire to become an established novelist used to sit before his typewriter sobbing with a stack of rejection letters in his lap wondering if he was ever going to make it as a writer. The hacks just didn't think he was good enough and today his work is Canonized. The mediocre minds, the elitists will never stop attempting to belittle the great minds. It is a peculiar conundrum. Walt Disney was told once by an editor of a newspaper where he worked that he was "not creative enough to ever make it in the newspaper industry." Want more...? I can go all night.
Friday, July 26, 2013
THE NINE-TO-FIVER SYNDROME
By Greg Evans
That boring, restrained life you left behind for the few seconds when your heart is pounding in your ears and the wind is blowing your cheeks into malleable claymation, eyes squinted and rectum puckered you dive head on into the most pure moment you have ever experienced since the moment you were born and as fast as you reached that euphoric utopia, you are thrust back in to the reality of your life.
The practice of overeating, overspending, poor theater etiquette, living without a sense of humor, throwing tomatoes at the neighborhood children, internet chatrooms, and driving ten miles over the speed limit as if your going through a sexless mid-life crisis boils down to only a few things. The most likely crack in your armor is that you aren't getting laid nearly enough or maybe you hate your job, hate your wife, your kids hate you and you'd rather be in Sarasota, Florida instead of Grundy, but that's life. You get what you put into it as far as I'm concerned and the luck factor. Well some are and some simply ain't. As you well know driving ten miles over the speed limit faster, you really aren't going to get where you are going that much sooner Johnson. You only raise the likely hood of wrapping yourself around a telephone pole, running over an innocent child on a bicycle, flattening some poor animal's brains out and there is a good chance that you are either talking or texting while driving only increasing the risk factor. Now texting and driving is a whole new can of worms that we will delve into one day and I am filled with opinions and solutions to derail the teeny-bop fad. And then the speeders will drive behind me in the slow lane and tail gate me while steering with their thighs and staring into the palm of their hands typing a thousand letters a second. It's asinine. There should be a device put into the car that won't allow the car to move until the phone is plugged to it whereby rendering the phone useless until the car is again turned off. And that is not a violation of privacy by any stretch of the imagination. Instead it is ensuring thousands of people the right to breath because those who would have been struck down by the careless would be able to live. But in our society that would be too costly and an inconvenience for the schmucks screaming about their rights to drive with a cell phone in their possession. The governments of the states would rather spend the money on Jacuzzi meetings in Vegas casino resorts or on 50" flat screen televisions for the penitentiaries so the poor downtrodden convicts can watch their reality TV. Another day I will get into all my peeves regarding all the damn convicts and criminals out there. Be glad I'm not President because that problem would be solved.
If I was a cop I'd give out an estimated 500 speeding tickets a day! I wouldn't feel bad for all you lead-footed ninnies. Did you ever stop to think that maybe those speed limits on the roads were derived from some complex algorithm that took into account the weather conditions of the area, the curvature of the road, the slope etc. No of course not, you figured it was the last traffic cop who wrote you that $150 ticket with a smile who came up with the speed limits so to hell with them! Petal to the medal. Now don't misinterpret me when I talk about cracking down on speed limit regulation. I am actually opposed to many, many, many regulations that this country and numerous other countries around the world unnecessarily impose upon the people for example, gun restrictions. I don't believe in gun laws, just like I don't believe in minimum wage outside the market value and I don't believe in welfare, and numerous other things. We need to be a society that is able to live and function based on common sense and understanding the common courtesies. You may say to yourself that that is preposterous and that no society can function without heavy regulation and police presence. That is not true. I know well of at least two societies that have very little regulation, almost zero crime, high employment and almost no visible police presence. I am not going to share those places with anybody because I don't want it to get out there that they exist and then the idiots who wrecked this society to go there and ruin those.
Did you know that the fastest speeding ticket ever given out was in 2000 in Texas for going 242 mph in a 75 mph zone. In Finland the fine amount is correlated to your income. There are multiple instances of six figure fines. Chew on that for a while. We'd all like to think we have the tar to take that adrenaline rush to the limit, and 242 mph hour can surly get you there for that split second where you are face-to-face with your soul and however you want to look at it, I imagine you do some serious self-reflecting in such a moment. That boring, restrained life you left behind for the few seconds when your heart is pounding in your ears and the wind is blowing your cheeks into malleable claymation, eyes squinted and rectum puckered you dive head on into the most pure moment you have ever experienced since the moment you were born and as fast as you reached that euphoric utopia you are thrust back in to the reality of your life. And then you are desperate to return to that feeling, that place and you try the affair because it seems exciting but it really is nothing more than more baggage and an annoying set of personality quirks so you become buddy, buddy with a new brand of hootch which is great for the first week but then you find yourself regularly tired and impatient, prone to common colds and a cramping stomach. The movies you used to watch and interject yourself into in your head pretending that you were some kind of hero become stagnant and hard to get through. Sleep becomes a challenge, getting through work focused without messing up and getting chewed out by the boss is like trying to swim across the Atlantic. Nothing makes any sense anymore and what's worse, the whole world is going through some bizarre economic woe that the cost of living is through the roof so all the money you want to put aside for retirement which looks to be around age 92, is now non-existent and all you have to look forward to is pizza and porn on Friday night. Yippy. Do you know people like that? The kind you reason will end up in their office one morning armed to the teeth on an empty stomach battling an everclear hangover? You better believe they are out there and you may be one of them. That is why you want to stay on everyone's good side because you never know who is suffering from the Nine-to-five syndrome. There comes a time when it is time to pull it together and start figuring things out. What people fail to understand is that everyone has a talent, an ability to reach into themselves and fine tune some energy that is waiting to be set free. Most people either don't want to make the effort because it will take nearly everything out of you to get to that point where you are self-sufficient and able enough for others to believe in you, but it is there, it is alive in all of us only a few ever find it.
The more hectic it may seem to be becoming, the more progress you are making. The more people tell you that you are worthless, the more ground you are covering. The more hacks out there who tell you your query isn't for them, or the HR rep you says your GPA isn't good enough, or the coach says your too frail and short, or the girl says your not fun enough is all the more reason to get up earlier, work harder, run the gauntlet, take that risk and fail. Fail a thousand times to all the bobbling, laughing heads. Claw your way out of the slums, out of the trailer parks, out the mundane suburbs of expectation, out of the wood and mortar cabins and give the world something worth a damn. It doesn't matter where you came from, what you've gone through but what matters is what are made of and where you end up. Some don't even make it until after they are dead and gone but dammit they made it in the end. But understand the world needs the nine-to-fivers and there are many out there who are great at it and move up the ladder and find success and that should be paradise for them. And along the way they too will face the brutes and trolls of the the working world looking to denigrate anyone with promise, it is just the way of the world.
The real world is a cut throat land of scorn and ridicule, gritty knife fights produce winners and winners are promoted and then have to face off against the next batch of stinkers looking to bring them down but they find it within themselves to persevere through the storms and regular assaults on their work ethics and character. They aren't about just going into work, doing what has to be done and then going home. They are constantly learning as much as they can and moving forward. They aren't just sitting in the studio painting the same old paintings but they are experimenting and creating new mind blowing original works. They aren't just building the same old log cabins, but new glass homes with rivers running through them. Find inspiration in those that have forged a path through the mediocrity because they too faced off against the mediocre who are a ruthless bunch of vultures looking to feast on the weak. And the weak never make it. They cower and meekly give in to the brutal assaults that confront them daily. Embrace the competition, the struggle, the suffering, the early mornings and late nights. Find something and go at it as if the world is going to come to an end the following day. Get home at night so exhausted you can barely keep your head up and keep working until you fall asleep at your desk, easel, tool bench, or whatever pursuit you embrace. God gave us this life to make something of it, not just to live within it.
And above all, whether or not you are affluent or making a measly $10.00 an hour, you have to learn to save your money because the golden years are golden only for those you foresee such a conclusion to their lives. You don't have to be rich to be comfortable later on in life. I wasn't going to get into this tonight and I will hit on it again sometime in the future, but there are methods of living that can provide you with a comfortable life after the treacherous years of nine-to-five work is over. If you have the stomach for it, think about this for a moment. You get married young in your twenties, say 25 years old and both you and your spouse are working. Say you earn $10.00 an hour and your spouse earns more. If you can convince your spouse that all the money from all your checks from all your working life will go into a savings account and you will live only off the spouses salary, figure this. You work for thirty years which means by 55 you will be ready for retirement and say you never make more than $10.00 an hour which is unrealistic because you will be promoted and just by seniority alone your salary will increase but just for the state of the argument you remain at 10 bucks an hour for your whole working life which is 30 years. If you saved every penny, when 55 rolled around you'd have over $2 million dollars saved up and that is enough for both you and your spouse to retire and live out the remainder of your lives doing nothing but playing golf, bridge, sunning on the beach, etc. But people don't think like that, they don't save. They live in the moment and spend all their money on fun and then when 75 rolls around and they are still working or struggling to survive on social security they wonder what happened. Years ago I worked in a bank as a loan processor and my job was to dig through clients' financials and determine whether or not they were credit worthiness for a loan or a refinance and what I noticed was that people had many assets, houses, and boats and cars and time shares and this and that but when it came to their savings they had very little and some of the people were already in their 50s and 60s. I came across people who only had $10,000 saved up and it baffled me how they could go through their whole lives earning salaries in excess of $100,000 with nothing to show for it but a bunch of assets that didn't necessarily appreciate in value. What they suffered from was called the nine-to-five syndrome, living as if it was pay check to pay check, spending everything in sight trying to rationalize their miserable existences instead of being disciplined and focused and working towards something better. The difference between those who are happy and those who aren't is that some people exist and some people live. Those who live are the savers, the disciplined, who know what they want and are determined to get it. Those who exist are the majority of the population. The world really isn't that much of a mystery. The poor neighborhoods aren't so by accident. The struggling people out there are struggling because of some inequality though it may initially play a part. Don't buy all that rubbish, it's nothing but recycled gibberish that people in similar situations in ancient Rome, middle ages Finland, 3rd century Mongolia complained about. It's always been there, but there has always been a light at the end of the tunnel for those willing to search it out. Go out and become someone in your own little world because your own little world is all that matters. Be respectful of the grind, the struggle and before the dust of the gladiatorial match concludes you will see a positive response from the spectators. That is the real world people. I hope that analogy there made sense.
That boring, restrained life you left behind for the few seconds when your heart is pounding in your ears and the wind is blowing your cheeks into malleable claymation, eyes squinted and rectum puckered you dive head on into the most pure moment you have ever experienced since the moment you were born and as fast as you reached that euphoric utopia, you are thrust back in to the reality of your life.
The practice of overeating, overspending, poor theater etiquette, living without a sense of humor, throwing tomatoes at the neighborhood children, internet chatrooms, and driving ten miles over the speed limit as if your going through a sexless mid-life crisis boils down to only a few things. The most likely crack in your armor is that you aren't getting laid nearly enough or maybe you hate your job, hate your wife, your kids hate you and you'd rather be in Sarasota, Florida instead of Grundy, but that's life. You get what you put into it as far as I'm concerned and the luck factor. Well some are and some simply ain't. As you well know driving ten miles over the speed limit faster, you really aren't going to get where you are going that much sooner Johnson. You only raise the likely hood of wrapping yourself around a telephone pole, running over an innocent child on a bicycle, flattening some poor animal's brains out and there is a good chance that you are either talking or texting while driving only increasing the risk factor. Now texting and driving is a whole new can of worms that we will delve into one day and I am filled with opinions and solutions to derail the teeny-bop fad. And then the speeders will drive behind me in the slow lane and tail gate me while steering with their thighs and staring into the palm of their hands typing a thousand letters a second. It's asinine. There should be a device put into the car that won't allow the car to move until the phone is plugged to it whereby rendering the phone useless until the car is again turned off. And that is not a violation of privacy by any stretch of the imagination. Instead it is ensuring thousands of people the right to breath because those who would have been struck down by the careless would be able to live. But in our society that would be too costly and an inconvenience for the schmucks screaming about their rights to drive with a cell phone in their possession. The governments of the states would rather spend the money on Jacuzzi meetings in Vegas casino resorts or on 50" flat screen televisions for the penitentiaries so the poor downtrodden convicts can watch their reality TV. Another day I will get into all my peeves regarding all the damn convicts and criminals out there. Be glad I'm not President because that problem would be solved.
If I was a cop I'd give out an estimated 500 speeding tickets a day! I wouldn't feel bad for all you lead-footed ninnies. Did you ever stop to think that maybe those speed limits on the roads were derived from some complex algorithm that took into account the weather conditions of the area, the curvature of the road, the slope etc. No of course not, you figured it was the last traffic cop who wrote you that $150 ticket with a smile who came up with the speed limits so to hell with them! Petal to the medal. Now don't misinterpret me when I talk about cracking down on speed limit regulation. I am actually opposed to many, many, many regulations that this country and numerous other countries around the world unnecessarily impose upon the people for example, gun restrictions. I don't believe in gun laws, just like I don't believe in minimum wage outside the market value and I don't believe in welfare, and numerous other things. We need to be a society that is able to live and function based on common sense and understanding the common courtesies. You may say to yourself that that is preposterous and that no society can function without heavy regulation and police presence. That is not true. I know well of at least two societies that have very little regulation, almost zero crime, high employment and almost no visible police presence. I am not going to share those places with anybody because I don't want it to get out there that they exist and then the idiots who wrecked this society to go there and ruin those.
Did you know that the fastest speeding ticket ever given out was in 2000 in Texas for going 242 mph in a 75 mph zone. In Finland the fine amount is correlated to your income. There are multiple instances of six figure fines. Chew on that for a while. We'd all like to think we have the tar to take that adrenaline rush to the limit, and 242 mph hour can surly get you there for that split second where you are face-to-face with your soul and however you want to look at it, I imagine you do some serious self-reflecting in such a moment. That boring, restrained life you left behind for the few seconds when your heart is pounding in your ears and the wind is blowing your cheeks into malleable claymation, eyes squinted and rectum puckered you dive head on into the most pure moment you have ever experienced since the moment you were born and as fast as you reached that euphoric utopia you are thrust back in to the reality of your life. And then you are desperate to return to that feeling, that place and you try the affair because it seems exciting but it really is nothing more than more baggage and an annoying set of personality quirks so you become buddy, buddy with a new brand of hootch which is great for the first week but then you find yourself regularly tired and impatient, prone to common colds and a cramping stomach. The movies you used to watch and interject yourself into in your head pretending that you were some kind of hero become stagnant and hard to get through. Sleep becomes a challenge, getting through work focused without messing up and getting chewed out by the boss is like trying to swim across the Atlantic. Nothing makes any sense anymore and what's worse, the whole world is going through some bizarre economic woe that the cost of living is through the roof so all the money you want to put aside for retirement which looks to be around age 92, is now non-existent and all you have to look forward to is pizza and porn on Friday night. Yippy. Do you know people like that? The kind you reason will end up in their office one morning armed to the teeth on an empty stomach battling an everclear hangover? You better believe they are out there and you may be one of them. That is why you want to stay on everyone's good side because you never know who is suffering from the Nine-to-five syndrome. There comes a time when it is time to pull it together and start figuring things out. What people fail to understand is that everyone has a talent, an ability to reach into themselves and fine tune some energy that is waiting to be set free. Most people either don't want to make the effort because it will take nearly everything out of you to get to that point where you are self-sufficient and able enough for others to believe in you, but it is there, it is alive in all of us only a few ever find it.
The more hectic it may seem to be becoming, the more progress you are making. The more people tell you that you are worthless, the more ground you are covering. The more hacks out there who tell you your query isn't for them, or the HR rep you says your GPA isn't good enough, or the coach says your too frail and short, or the girl says your not fun enough is all the more reason to get up earlier, work harder, run the gauntlet, take that risk and fail. Fail a thousand times to all the bobbling, laughing heads. Claw your way out of the slums, out of the trailer parks, out the mundane suburbs of expectation, out of the wood and mortar cabins and give the world something worth a damn. It doesn't matter where you came from, what you've gone through but what matters is what are made of and where you end up. Some don't even make it until after they are dead and gone but dammit they made it in the end. But understand the world needs the nine-to-fivers and there are many out there who are great at it and move up the ladder and find success and that should be paradise for them. And along the way they too will face the brutes and trolls of the the working world looking to denigrate anyone with promise, it is just the way of the world.
The real world is a cut throat land of scorn and ridicule, gritty knife fights produce winners and winners are promoted and then have to face off against the next batch of stinkers looking to bring them down but they find it within themselves to persevere through the storms and regular assaults on their work ethics and character. They aren't about just going into work, doing what has to be done and then going home. They are constantly learning as much as they can and moving forward. They aren't just sitting in the studio painting the same old paintings but they are experimenting and creating new mind blowing original works. They aren't just building the same old log cabins, but new glass homes with rivers running through them. Find inspiration in those that have forged a path through the mediocrity because they too faced off against the mediocre who are a ruthless bunch of vultures looking to feast on the weak. And the weak never make it. They cower and meekly give in to the brutal assaults that confront them daily. Embrace the competition, the struggle, the suffering, the early mornings and late nights. Find something and go at it as if the world is going to come to an end the following day. Get home at night so exhausted you can barely keep your head up and keep working until you fall asleep at your desk, easel, tool bench, or whatever pursuit you embrace. God gave us this life to make something of it, not just to live within it.
And above all, whether or not you are affluent or making a measly $10.00 an hour, you have to learn to save your money because the golden years are golden only for those you foresee such a conclusion to their lives. You don't have to be rich to be comfortable later on in life. I wasn't going to get into this tonight and I will hit on it again sometime in the future, but there are methods of living that can provide you with a comfortable life after the treacherous years of nine-to-five work is over. If you have the stomach for it, think about this for a moment. You get married young in your twenties, say 25 years old and both you and your spouse are working. Say you earn $10.00 an hour and your spouse earns more. If you can convince your spouse that all the money from all your checks from all your working life will go into a savings account and you will live only off the spouses salary, figure this. You work for thirty years which means by 55 you will be ready for retirement and say you never make more than $10.00 an hour which is unrealistic because you will be promoted and just by seniority alone your salary will increase but just for the state of the argument you remain at 10 bucks an hour for your whole working life which is 30 years. If you saved every penny, when 55 rolled around you'd have over $2 million dollars saved up and that is enough for both you and your spouse to retire and live out the remainder of your lives doing nothing but playing golf, bridge, sunning on the beach, etc. But people don't think like that, they don't save. They live in the moment and spend all their money on fun and then when 75 rolls around and they are still working or struggling to survive on social security they wonder what happened. Years ago I worked in a bank as a loan processor and my job was to dig through clients' financials and determine whether or not they were credit worthiness for a loan or a refinance and what I noticed was that people had many assets, houses, and boats and cars and time shares and this and that but when it came to their savings they had very little and some of the people were already in their 50s and 60s. I came across people who only had $10,000 saved up and it baffled me how they could go through their whole lives earning salaries in excess of $100,000 with nothing to show for it but a bunch of assets that didn't necessarily appreciate in value. What they suffered from was called the nine-to-five syndrome, living as if it was pay check to pay check, spending everything in sight trying to rationalize their miserable existences instead of being disciplined and focused and working towards something better. The difference between those who are happy and those who aren't is that some people exist and some people live. Those who live are the savers, the disciplined, who know what they want and are determined to get it. Those who exist are the majority of the population. The world really isn't that much of a mystery. The poor neighborhoods aren't so by accident. The struggling people out there are struggling because of some inequality though it may initially play a part. Don't buy all that rubbish, it's nothing but recycled gibberish that people in similar situations in ancient Rome, middle ages Finland, 3rd century Mongolia complained about. It's always been there, but there has always been a light at the end of the tunnel for those willing to search it out. Go out and become someone in your own little world because your own little world is all that matters. Be respectful of the grind, the struggle and before the dust of the gladiatorial match concludes you will see a positive response from the spectators. That is the real world people. I hope that analogy there made sense.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
THE WHAT GOES UP, COMES DOWN EXPERIMENT
By Greg Evans
I woke up as usual early before the sun rose and slid out of bed and headed over to my phone to check the time. I had the phone attached to the charger and when I picked up the phone the cord plugged into the wall tensed and as I pulled the phone toward me the cord pulled the phone free from my hand and fell only about three or four feet to a wooden floor, face down. When I picked up the phone I realized that the face had shattered like a car windshield after taking the brunt forced of someone's head. I couldn't believe my eyes. I took the phone into the bathroom and turned on the light to make sure I wasn't sleep walking but sure enough the damn thing broke. The face of the phone was made of glass! I had always figured that it was made of plastic because who doesn't drop their phone? What kind of company would make a cellular phone out of glass!?! I actually had at one time a cover for the phone but I had dropped the phone protected by the cover into a simmering pot of spaghetti sauce and the cover had saved the phone but now I don't have a cover on it and it's broken and I have to spend money to have it fixed.
I want to throw a question out there. Am I going overboard when I say that it is obnoxious for a phone company make the face of the phone out of glass knowing full and well that glass often breaks if dropped and people drop phones regularly? Question number 2, did the companies do this on purpose because it would then force the public back to the phone stores to purchase another phone and they would then probably update the phone and the company would make more money? Of course that was the reason. Some smart guy probably working as a low level marketing or accounting associate had the great idea and brought it to his manager who passed it on up the chain of command. If the phone is made of glass and falls and shatters people will just accept it because that it is the newest and best cellular phone. But they will go to the phone store and purchase an upgrade. The problem with this concept is that it goes above and beyond the realm of tolerance. In a world where photographs are taken of earth 900 million miles away and sent to the computer of a scientist, can't they come out with something any more efficient than glass phones. It isn't even logical. As much as I like my phone for it's uses, I am simply dumbfounded and tired of the products being put out that are so prone to having to be repaired. Buy a car these days and it spends half it's life in the shop. Buy a toaster and it only lasts a couple of years. Products used to be made to withstand time and they were solid and worked and many from our grandparents young adult time still work today. Such industry won't be the case when our grand children and great-grand children are our age and you can bet glass phones won't survive 100 years unblemished if not completely shattered to pieces unless you live your life in a bubble.
I woke up as usual early before the sun rose and slid out of bed and headed over to my phone to check the time. I had the phone attached to the charger and when I picked up the phone the cord plugged into the wall tensed and as I pulled the phone toward me the cord pulled the phone free from my hand and fell only about three or four feet to a wooden floor, face down. When I picked up the phone I realized that the face had shattered like a car windshield after taking the brunt forced of someone's head. I couldn't believe my eyes. I took the phone into the bathroom and turned on the light to make sure I wasn't sleep walking but sure enough the damn thing broke. The face of the phone was made of glass! I had always figured that it was made of plastic because who doesn't drop their phone? What kind of company would make a cellular phone out of glass!?! I actually had at one time a cover for the phone but I had dropped the phone protected by the cover into a simmering pot of spaghetti sauce and the cover had saved the phone but now I don't have a cover on it and it's broken and I have to spend money to have it fixed.
I want to throw a question out there. Am I going overboard when I say that it is obnoxious for a phone company make the face of the phone out of glass knowing full and well that glass often breaks if dropped and people drop phones regularly? Question number 2, did the companies do this on purpose because it would then force the public back to the phone stores to purchase another phone and they would then probably update the phone and the company would make more money? Of course that was the reason. Some smart guy probably working as a low level marketing or accounting associate had the great idea and brought it to his manager who passed it on up the chain of command. If the phone is made of glass and falls and shatters people will just accept it because that it is the newest and best cellular phone. But they will go to the phone store and purchase an upgrade. The problem with this concept is that it goes above and beyond the realm of tolerance. In a world where photographs are taken of earth 900 million miles away and sent to the computer of a scientist, can't they come out with something any more efficient than glass phones. It isn't even logical. As much as I like my phone for it's uses, I am simply dumbfounded and tired of the products being put out that are so prone to having to be repaired. Buy a car these days and it spends half it's life in the shop. Buy a toaster and it only lasts a couple of years. Products used to be made to withstand time and they were solid and worked and many from our grandparents young adult time still work today. Such industry won't be the case when our grand children and great-grand children are our age and you can bet glass phones won't survive 100 years unblemished if not completely shattered to pieces unless you live your life in a bubble.
THE INFIDELITY CLAUSE
By Greg Evans
Do you think your the first person to learn that your spouse went out to the nightclub and ended tangled in some stranger's bed sheets after being ravished in a drunken haze of moans and grunts. All the while you are home with the kids wondering where so and so is. Come morning your frantically calling and sending out text messages while your "significant" other is going for another round feeling like a new person and realizing that the stuffy, boring, mundane marriage is what was making life so miserable. You are the reason why they are so exasperated at having to simply wake up and go off to the lousy job. All their friends are either divorced or cheating and your spouse as contemplated it a couple of times, maybe even going so far as to make out with someone while on the "girls," or "guys" only vacations. Now people get very offended when you say to them that their spouse may be interested in other people. Don't be so shocked. 85% of married persons have contemplated adultery and who knows how many have actually gone racing around the bases when the opportunity has posed itself.
We must understand that this kind of behavior has been going on since the cave men times, but it seems that with the decline of society and the regular misunderstanding of the whole marriage idea, people are loosing their grip on reality, forgetting that kids are psychologically sensitive and these wives and husbands are running around like college freshmen and society is not only accepting of the behavior but they often offer lucrative television deals to film the salty lifestyle. Are you one of those cheaters? Is society the problem? Is it the fact that you are too lazy and can't handle the reality that life isn't supposed to be fun, it's supposed to be work? Is the problem simply because you are a big tool with no future but the joys and mysterious of the VD. There was once a time when life pretended to be pure and wholesome. And having that illusion helped the kids to believe that that was the way it was until they were old enough to think for themselves but they loved the illusion so they raised their own kids in a like fashion. Let's give the kids the illusion again.
Does it matter what kind of affair it was, whether it was a spur of the moment, one-night-stand or something that started as a "friendship" and turned into hot sweaty porky. And here is a question that might hold a drop of ambiguity. Would sex talk over the internet in a chatroom be considered having an affair and be worthy of a spouse filing for adulterous behavior? Would it make a difference if it was just a random screen name or whether it was an actual person that he/she actually knows? None of it would make any difference. People have a certain character and you are either of high quality or you are a weak, spineless loser and if you happen to be one of those, then go sign up for that one-way trip of no return to Mars. You won't be missed.
Earlier today, I spoke with a young lady, we'll call her Holly, who told me her heart breaking tale of raising two kids on her own, struggling in this terrible economy and it was all because her husband of many years couldn't stop cheating. Notice the use of words there. He couldn't stop cheating which meant that he had been caught and was given a second chance and couldn't keep it in his pants. What is wrong with people? Two kids, a seemingly nice woman and you run all over town probably with the ugliest, filthiest cows the night club can produce. You all know people out there in similar situations and by no means is it always men who are the lechers. Women are far from saintly. There are a few saints out there but they are hard to come by. Now what makes it difficult to protect yourself against the cheaters is difficult because just because they run around doesn't mean they aren't nice people. And by nice I mean, a friend or a sibling may be into the adultery movement but they are still the same buddy or sibling as before. So it is tricky to sift through the BS to figure out these crack pots before they play their turn on you and hurt you. These wretches come in all packages, some outgoing, some quiet, some party goers, some more homebodies who find the UPS guy or girl a catch, you really have to depend on your intuition to pick and choose your spouse or significant other and even if you are the most attentive and careful person in the world, you may just get betrayed without ever having any red flags.
It is a sensitive subject for many people and for many people who have experienced it it becomes difficult to learn how to fully trust again. But one good thing is that it is a big world with a lot of people in it. Get out there and take a risk or two, you may be surprised.
Do you think your the first person to learn that your spouse went out to the nightclub and ended tangled in some stranger's bed sheets after being ravished in a drunken haze of moans and grunts. All the while you are home with the kids wondering where so and so is. Come morning your frantically calling and sending out text messages while your "significant" other is going for another round feeling like a new person and realizing that the stuffy, boring, mundane marriage is what was making life so miserable. You are the reason why they are so exasperated at having to simply wake up and go off to the lousy job. All their friends are either divorced or cheating and your spouse as contemplated it a couple of times, maybe even going so far as to make out with someone while on the "girls," or "guys" only vacations. Now people get very offended when you say to them that their spouse may be interested in other people. Don't be so shocked. 85% of married persons have contemplated adultery and who knows how many have actually gone racing around the bases when the opportunity has posed itself.
We must understand that this kind of behavior has been going on since the cave men times, but it seems that with the decline of society and the regular misunderstanding of the whole marriage idea, people are loosing their grip on reality, forgetting that kids are psychologically sensitive and these wives and husbands are running around like college freshmen and society is not only accepting of the behavior but they often offer lucrative television deals to film the salty lifestyle. Are you one of those cheaters? Is society the problem? Is it the fact that you are too lazy and can't handle the reality that life isn't supposed to be fun, it's supposed to be work? Is the problem simply because you are a big tool with no future but the joys and mysterious of the VD. There was once a time when life pretended to be pure and wholesome. And having that illusion helped the kids to believe that that was the way it was until they were old enough to think for themselves but they loved the illusion so they raised their own kids in a like fashion. Let's give the kids the illusion again.
Does it matter what kind of affair it was, whether it was a spur of the moment, one-night-stand or something that started as a "friendship" and turned into hot sweaty porky. And here is a question that might hold a drop of ambiguity. Would sex talk over the internet in a chatroom be considered having an affair and be worthy of a spouse filing for adulterous behavior? Would it make a difference if it was just a random screen name or whether it was an actual person that he/she actually knows? None of it would make any difference. People have a certain character and you are either of high quality or you are a weak, spineless loser and if you happen to be one of those, then go sign up for that one-way trip of no return to Mars. You won't be missed.
Earlier today, I spoke with a young lady, we'll call her Holly, who told me her heart breaking tale of raising two kids on her own, struggling in this terrible economy and it was all because her husband of many years couldn't stop cheating. Notice the use of words there. He couldn't stop cheating which meant that he had been caught and was given a second chance and couldn't keep it in his pants. What is wrong with people? Two kids, a seemingly nice woman and you run all over town probably with the ugliest, filthiest cows the night club can produce. You all know people out there in similar situations and by no means is it always men who are the lechers. Women are far from saintly. There are a few saints out there but they are hard to come by. Now what makes it difficult to protect yourself against the cheaters is difficult because just because they run around doesn't mean they aren't nice people. And by nice I mean, a friend or a sibling may be into the adultery movement but they are still the same buddy or sibling as before. So it is tricky to sift through the BS to figure out these crack pots before they play their turn on you and hurt you. These wretches come in all packages, some outgoing, some quiet, some party goers, some more homebodies who find the UPS guy or girl a catch, you really have to depend on your intuition to pick and choose your spouse or significant other and even if you are the most attentive and careful person in the world, you may just get betrayed without ever having any red flags.
It is a sensitive subject for many people and for many people who have experienced it it becomes difficult to learn how to fully trust again. But one good thing is that it is a big world with a lot of people in it. Get out there and take a risk or two, you may be surprised.
Monday, July 22, 2013
THE THIRTEEN CONNOTATION
By Greg Evans
What do you fear? Snakes, spiders, roller coasters, water, the unknown, or maybe you are afraid of the number 13. What is it about the strange number thirteen that gives us that empty hollow feeling inside? We notice shivers racing through our body and sensations of cold and occasionally a sour taste develops in your mouth. Would you really want to live on the 13th floor of a building or walk thirteen blocks to work in building number 13. Would you feel awkward baking thirteen cookies or getting married on the thirteenth day of the month? Where did this remarkable fear of the number 13 originate from?
It is said that the number 13 was first used to represent evil in Norse Mythology when Aegir had twelve gods to a banquet and a 13th god showed up, uninvited. This god was Loki the god of evil. There is also the story of the Last Supper when Jesus dined with the twelve apostles. As the story goes, Judas who was the thirteenth apostle betrayed Jesus giving him over to the Romans. Those are some of the stories of the origination of the number thirteen as having evil connotations but you also have the number thirteen representing other forms of darkness and discomfort. Did you know that there are thirteen members in a witch's coven. We all know from the Wizard of Oz the evil witches are capable of and then those witches we would see as children flying across the sky at night as we lay in our beds staring out the window at the bright moon through the pines. How about this one? Remember the Apollo 13 mission? On April 13th the shuttle left the launch pad at 13:13 hours and then exploded. Was it just a coincidence or was something peculiar and sinister going on that day? Do you believe in coincidences? I'm not sure I do. I have always been a superstitious person but the context of the superstition wasn't always black and white. I have been superstitious of the number 13 periodically in my life and I have always been grateful when I have been on an elevator and noticed that the building didn't have a thirteenth floor. Though I once did briefly wear the number thirteen basketball jersey while in middle school and even then I was somewhat conscious of that superstition.
In sports Dan Marino of the Miami Dolphins wore the number thirteen and has gone down in history as the greatest quarterback ever to play without winning a Superbowl. And do you think that also is a coincidence? Triskaidekaphobia is the name of the phobia for people who are afraid of the number 13. I don't think I would use that label for myself but I understand where the fear derives from and it isn't the unknown. There are many people out there who have thirteen as their lucky number. Poets I imagine. On Friday the 13th, 1407 King Philip the IV of France put out an arrest warrant on the Knights Templar. Those captured were tortured and killed in horrific manners. A great many people will say that it is mind over matter, and that people come up with all forms of craziness and lore but is it really all just craziness. If it didn't have some element of truth would the superstition have lasted through the ages? That is for you to determine for yourself though the next time you are walking through a dark parking garage at midnight and you realize you parked in spot number thirteen, don't get scared.
What do you fear? Snakes, spiders, roller coasters, water, the unknown, or maybe you are afraid of the number 13. What is it about the strange number thirteen that gives us that empty hollow feeling inside? We notice shivers racing through our body and sensations of cold and occasionally a sour taste develops in your mouth. Would you really want to live on the 13th floor of a building or walk thirteen blocks to work in building number 13. Would you feel awkward baking thirteen cookies or getting married on the thirteenth day of the month? Where did this remarkable fear of the number 13 originate from?
It is said that the number 13 was first used to represent evil in Norse Mythology when Aegir had twelve gods to a banquet and a 13th god showed up, uninvited. This god was Loki the god of evil. There is also the story of the Last Supper when Jesus dined with the twelve apostles. As the story goes, Judas who was the thirteenth apostle betrayed Jesus giving him over to the Romans. Those are some of the stories of the origination of the number thirteen as having evil connotations but you also have the number thirteen representing other forms of darkness and discomfort. Did you know that there are thirteen members in a witch's coven. We all know from the Wizard of Oz the evil witches are capable of and then those witches we would see as children flying across the sky at night as we lay in our beds staring out the window at the bright moon through the pines. How about this one? Remember the Apollo 13 mission? On April 13th the shuttle left the launch pad at 13:13 hours and then exploded. Was it just a coincidence or was something peculiar and sinister going on that day? Do you believe in coincidences? I'm not sure I do. I have always been a superstitious person but the context of the superstition wasn't always black and white. I have been superstitious of the number 13 periodically in my life and I have always been grateful when I have been on an elevator and noticed that the building didn't have a thirteenth floor. Though I once did briefly wear the number thirteen basketball jersey while in middle school and even then I was somewhat conscious of that superstition.
In sports Dan Marino of the Miami Dolphins wore the number thirteen and has gone down in history as the greatest quarterback ever to play without winning a Superbowl. And do you think that also is a coincidence? Triskaidekaphobia is the name of the phobia for people who are afraid of the number 13. I don't think I would use that label for myself but I understand where the fear derives from and it isn't the unknown. There are many people out there who have thirteen as their lucky number. Poets I imagine. On Friday the 13th, 1407 King Philip the IV of France put out an arrest warrant on the Knights Templar. Those captured were tortured and killed in horrific manners. A great many people will say that it is mind over matter, and that people come up with all forms of craziness and lore but is it really all just craziness. If it didn't have some element of truth would the superstition have lasted through the ages? That is for you to determine for yourself though the next time you are walking through a dark parking garage at midnight and you realize you parked in spot number thirteen, don't get scared.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
THE GAS TANK DICHOTOMY
By Greg Evans
What does it tell you about a person who fills up their gas tank when it reaches the half-way mark compared to those who wait until the "nearing empty" light is on and their tank is about 99% empty? Are those who fill up their tank once it reaches the half-way possibly more attentive, keep their home cleaner and more organized, their yard is in perfect shape, they work a steady nine-to-five job, earn a decent living, even to be considered affluent. Whereas someone who allows their tank to drain down to practically nothing tends to be more of a free spirit, seat-of-their pants. Maybe they are more creative, scuttleminded, heavy coffee drinkers, recipients of the popular ADHD diagnosis of the late 1990s, have difficulty sleeping and work at odd hours. Does the gas tank determine who might someday become the President of a country or a politician most likely to end up with a 20 year bid. If you were looking for a spouse and the only criteria you had to judge the person by was whether they filled up their tank at 50% or 90% who would you choose and why? It is an interesting question because that may give a psychologist some insight as well into the person being questioned. What kind of person wants to marry a half-a-tanker instead of an empty tanker. They may say why would I want someone so square as to have to fill up their damn tank at the half-way mark. "What a stupid waste of time!" But you then can take the angle of the person who fears the half-a-tanker as a horror feature snap shot of a guy like the one from American Psycho; everything too perfect, too organized, too regimented, too crazy. They need the person who will fill up the tank once it gets low but before it runs completely out. The kind of person who doesn't have to have all the dishes done before going to bed at night. The person who will wear the non-matching socks hidden beneath their suit pants. They want someone who will run out to the Shop Rite at 2 am., and pick up a bag of Cheetos without entering the calorie count into a spreadsheet.
Do you think age has any play in the determination? Were you the same at seventeen as you are now? Probably not though there are people who literally matured fully by seventeen and went out into the working world stuffed their bank account while you were still trying to figure it all out. They were filling up their gas tanks at the half-way mark while you are broken down on the side of the road. But most people mature over time and find their way in the world by at least 50 or become raging alcoholics. People are fascinating creatures if you take the time to observe them one day. Stop walking at moc-9 along the sidewalk trying to get to your lousy job on time, lean against a wall and look around. You'll notice that most people are rushing and hustling and bustling and honking and flipping fingers and pulling out shotguns while leaning out their windows with pulsating veins in their necks and foreheads for the same reason you are spilling coffee on your lap, on the verge of tears, depressed with a passenger seat full of shitty resumes printed with dime-store ink on bargain-basement paper as the rain pounds your beat-up junker with the yellow engine light that has been perpetually on for a month. Those busy healthy people who park in handicap spots or knock into you on a sidewalk wide enough for five cows, cutting you in line at Starbucks, most of them are on their way to the job where they are overworked and underpaid feeling like offing themselves, wishing they were Dr. Oz, just like you.
Everybody thinks that their own life is soooo important and for them it is and it should be. You should think your life is important and what you are striving to achieve will provide you with the security and happiness that you are so desperately dreaming about and seeking. But what you fail to reason into the equation are the small details of your so important life. Have you ever wondered why you are always filling up your tank, which is on empty, when you are in a rush? And while trying to get to the gas station with the screaming child in the backseat you catch every single red light and traffic is unbearably thick and people seem more interested in their smart phones then getting the hell out of your way. The details are the things that people make a great effort it seems to overlook. And you know it goes far beyond the gas tank. Once you leave the aerie you start to see the litany of small indicators as to who you are, why you are in the position in life you are, where you want to be and how you can get there. It might sound like poppycock but it actually has significant relevance. Do you go to the barber on a schedule or do you go when your hair starts to resemble a bird's nest? Are you working in a minimum wage job despite having a college degree or are you in a professional setting earning a decent wage? Those working minimum wage have followed similar patterns in their lives, and vise versa. If you don't believe me sit around with your co-workers and that includes the colored hair and nose piercing ones and ask them to tell you their stories. Other then upbringing you will see yourself in them and the same goes with the ones who "made it." Buildings are built from the ground up one brick at a time. You must never forget that fact when examining the details in your own life because you have to look at the smallest of details to understand some of the bigger ones.
I am a product of the minimum wage working world and spent my fair share of time within stepping distance of the gutter but I wanted something more and it took many years of early mornings, late nights and often seven days a week, hard, hard work to accrue the necessary skills to propel me from that brutish horror. Can you judge the direction of society by the condition of the people and the way they collectively think and act and vote? You sure can and it is as frightening as the moron who allows their gas tank run out on some deserted road in the middle of the desert and wonder why they are crawling along in the dust with parched throat, blistered lips and bloody fingers and knees. My mother once told me a story about her father, my grandfather who was as interesting a person as anyone you could meet on any unique street anywhere in the world. He was a man who would mow the lawn in a suit and a top hat, import cigarettes from England instead of purchasing a pack from the deli feet away from his building, and took his wife, my grandmother on their first date to a park bench and people watched for hours. In academia that would be a core course called How to live life 101. Tomorrow when you wake up or if you are sitting at your desk staring at "TPS" reports wondering what in the hell you are doing other than wasting away and waiting for your husband or wife to leave you for some schmuck with red corvette, take a look at your gas tank and figure yourself out.
What does it tell you about a person who fills up their gas tank when it reaches the half-way mark compared to those who wait until the "nearing empty" light is on and their tank is about 99% empty? Are those who fill up their tank once it reaches the half-way possibly more attentive, keep their home cleaner and more organized, their yard is in perfect shape, they work a steady nine-to-five job, earn a decent living, even to be considered affluent. Whereas someone who allows their tank to drain down to practically nothing tends to be more of a free spirit, seat-of-their pants. Maybe they are more creative, scuttleminded, heavy coffee drinkers, recipients of the popular ADHD diagnosis of the late 1990s, have difficulty sleeping and work at odd hours. Does the gas tank determine who might someday become the President of a country or a politician most likely to end up with a 20 year bid. If you were looking for a spouse and the only criteria you had to judge the person by was whether they filled up their tank at 50% or 90% who would you choose and why? It is an interesting question because that may give a psychologist some insight as well into the person being questioned. What kind of person wants to marry a half-a-tanker instead of an empty tanker. They may say why would I want someone so square as to have to fill up their damn tank at the half-way mark. "What a stupid waste of time!" But you then can take the angle of the person who fears the half-a-tanker as a horror feature snap shot of a guy like the one from American Psycho; everything too perfect, too organized, too regimented, too crazy. They need the person who will fill up the tank once it gets low but before it runs completely out. The kind of person who doesn't have to have all the dishes done before going to bed at night. The person who will wear the non-matching socks hidden beneath their suit pants. They want someone who will run out to the Shop Rite at 2 am., and pick up a bag of Cheetos without entering the calorie count into a spreadsheet.
Do you think age has any play in the determination? Were you the same at seventeen as you are now? Probably not though there are people who literally matured fully by seventeen and went out into the working world stuffed their bank account while you were still trying to figure it all out. They were filling up their gas tanks at the half-way mark while you are broken down on the side of the road. But most people mature over time and find their way in the world by at least 50 or become raging alcoholics. People are fascinating creatures if you take the time to observe them one day. Stop walking at moc-9 along the sidewalk trying to get to your lousy job on time, lean against a wall and look around. You'll notice that most people are rushing and hustling and bustling and honking and flipping fingers and pulling out shotguns while leaning out their windows with pulsating veins in their necks and foreheads for the same reason you are spilling coffee on your lap, on the verge of tears, depressed with a passenger seat full of shitty resumes printed with dime-store ink on bargain-basement paper as the rain pounds your beat-up junker with the yellow engine light that has been perpetually on for a month. Those busy healthy people who park in handicap spots or knock into you on a sidewalk wide enough for five cows, cutting you in line at Starbucks, most of them are on their way to the job where they are overworked and underpaid feeling like offing themselves, wishing they were Dr. Oz, just like you.
Everybody thinks that their own life is soooo important and for them it is and it should be. You should think your life is important and what you are striving to achieve will provide you with the security and happiness that you are so desperately dreaming about and seeking. But what you fail to reason into the equation are the small details of your so important life. Have you ever wondered why you are always filling up your tank, which is on empty, when you are in a rush? And while trying to get to the gas station with the screaming child in the backseat you catch every single red light and traffic is unbearably thick and people seem more interested in their smart phones then getting the hell out of your way. The details are the things that people make a great effort it seems to overlook. And you know it goes far beyond the gas tank. Once you leave the aerie you start to see the litany of small indicators as to who you are, why you are in the position in life you are, where you want to be and how you can get there. It might sound like poppycock but it actually has significant relevance. Do you go to the barber on a schedule or do you go when your hair starts to resemble a bird's nest? Are you working in a minimum wage job despite having a college degree or are you in a professional setting earning a decent wage? Those working minimum wage have followed similar patterns in their lives, and vise versa. If you don't believe me sit around with your co-workers and that includes the colored hair and nose piercing ones and ask them to tell you their stories. Other then upbringing you will see yourself in them and the same goes with the ones who "made it." Buildings are built from the ground up one brick at a time. You must never forget that fact when examining the details in your own life because you have to look at the smallest of details to understand some of the bigger ones.
I am a product of the minimum wage working world and spent my fair share of time within stepping distance of the gutter but I wanted something more and it took many years of early mornings, late nights and often seven days a week, hard, hard work to accrue the necessary skills to propel me from that brutish horror. Can you judge the direction of society by the condition of the people and the way they collectively think and act and vote? You sure can and it is as frightening as the moron who allows their gas tank run out on some deserted road in the middle of the desert and wonder why they are crawling along in the dust with parched throat, blistered lips and bloody fingers and knees. My mother once told me a story about her father, my grandfather who was as interesting a person as anyone you could meet on any unique street anywhere in the world. He was a man who would mow the lawn in a suit and a top hat, import cigarettes from England instead of purchasing a pack from the deli feet away from his building, and took his wife, my grandmother on their first date to a park bench and people watched for hours. In academia that would be a core course called How to live life 101. Tomorrow when you wake up or if you are sitting at your desk staring at "TPS" reports wondering what in the hell you are doing other than wasting away and waiting for your husband or wife to leave you for some schmuck with red corvette, take a look at your gas tank and figure yourself out.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
THE ANIMAL FARM
By Greg Evans
I had to take a ride down to the bank and from there to a store to pick up a birthday card. What completely befuddled me was the incredible amount of people on the road. Dented up cars and distracted drivers everywhere I turned, in all of my mirrors, dark clouds lumbering along over the mountains and once the gray rain begins to pelt us the population on the roadways become treacherous and the movement slows as waiting for your order at Buffalo Wild Wings. It is ruthless and along with the inefficiency of non-synchronizing traffic lights, I was very close to pulling out my hair or looking for the nearest hooch barn to pick up some of Popcorn Sutton's sweet relief. Nobody cares about anything anymore, nothing except partying and race mongering. I'd rather go to an all-you-can-eat Dominos pizza buffet than sit in traffic with all these drug addicts. My daughter was in her car seat in the back shrieking "Honk! Honk at that schmuck!" Even she was loosing patience and ready to fling her sippy cup at the gastropod mollusk. We were trying to get back home so we could turn on the British Open and watch Westwood and Woods duke it out for the final four holes. But with a trip that should normally take no more than 20 minutes we were out for nearly an hour and a half. Population overload. People are tired of living in the crime riddled, over-croweded over priced cities and moving out to the boondocks. Nothing surprises me anymore with the mess we have ruining this country and all the scandals with more waiting to be unveiled. Nixon would have been given the keys to Denver (Most sought after city listed by Forbes) by today's standards though I'm not so sure there are standards anymore. The current administration obviously has no standards and it doesn't take a certain political leaning to agree that things aren't so great. I turned on Bill Monroe and listened to him singing Blue Moon of Kentucky and I sat back in my recliner and wondered what happened to the world I knew once as a child. Where did it go? I turn on Alabama, The Beach Boys, Billy Joel, Dion and the Belmonts, Tiffany, The Traveling Wilbury's and I'm taken away to a different time and I am struck by pangs of nostalgia. But it's not only that I am longing to return to that world, but I wish my daughter could have been able to experience such a world. I don't want her to think that corruption in the highest office, the regular scandals and catering to the lower class of society is OK. I don't want her to think that rampant divorce rates is OK. I don't want her to think that taking God and religion out of schools and out of society in general is OK. I don't want her to think that not being patriotic toward ones nation is OK. I don't want her to think that Dominos pizza and their crappy recipe is OK. It should be a crime for them to be allowed to charge as much as a quarter for a large pie. I don't want her to have to fear for her life every time she steps out her door because the streets are filled with brutes and streets thugs. I don't want her to have to wait in breadlines because the President feels the need to go on vacation. Do you get the picture? I don't want her to think that it is OK for a society to conduct itself like a filthy Animal farm. I don't want her think that owing a gun is wrong. I don't want her to think that $3.62 for a gallon of gas is OK. I don't want her to think that $4.15 for a loaf of bread is OK. I don't want her to think that 16% unemployment is OK. Are you tasting the vinegar yet? It doesn't matter your political leanings you can't deny nor argue the facts. They are called facts for a reason and in a world where there is no reason all you can depend on is the facts and for people out there to give them to you straight.
You think you are the only one out there struggling and grinding away for every nickel you earn and wondering if before long it is going to be taken away from you by some crazy brownshirt who laughs hysterically with stale, fetid breath before beating you black and blue with a Billie Club? "That can't happen here,"I have had people say to me. Tell that to an old holocaust survivor from the 1930s-40s. They once probably thought the same thing. I didn't mean to rain on your weekend but it was just something I wanted to get off my chest. Sometimes a thought is triggered but it just isn't the right time to put it down. Maybe this is one of those times but it is something that everyone needs to constantly be told, over and over because it is so easy to become complacent.
It all weighs so heavy on all of us and those that claim it doesn't are probably high on illegal jungle juice, or have a prescription for old Mary Jane. I'd rather talk about the weather which as been as bizarre as everything else going on right now. The temperatures here are soaring, every day in the 90s which I love but it also rains every single day at least once, sometimes twice. Most likely we are experiencing the beginning of a geomagnetic polar shift which will take thousands of years to complete it's cycle but people are going mad in the process and trying desperately to come up with an answer. My answer over the past four days has been to eat so much junk that my organs feel like they are beginning to shut down. I was so full of saturated fat and sodium that I have been tossing and turning every night, my mind flooded with all kinds of nightmares. I am in the ocean caught in a rip current and being stalked by jittery sharks, my towel on the beach filled with spider nests and then walking home I am repeatedly mugged by roving bands of hoodlums of all different races. Don't try and peg me as some kind of racist because I do not judge based on color but on the conditions of society and the degenerates that make it up.
Thankfully we still have our books that we can turn to to lose ourselves. But who knows how long it will be before our books are taken away from us also. Maybe Mars is already inhabited. Maybe we'll all be turnip pickers.
I had to take a ride down to the bank and from there to a store to pick up a birthday card. What completely befuddled me was the incredible amount of people on the road. Dented up cars and distracted drivers everywhere I turned, in all of my mirrors, dark clouds lumbering along over the mountains and once the gray rain begins to pelt us the population on the roadways become treacherous and the movement slows as waiting for your order at Buffalo Wild Wings. It is ruthless and along with the inefficiency of non-synchronizing traffic lights, I was very close to pulling out my hair or looking for the nearest hooch barn to pick up some of Popcorn Sutton's sweet relief. Nobody cares about anything anymore, nothing except partying and race mongering. I'd rather go to an all-you-can-eat Dominos pizza buffet than sit in traffic with all these drug addicts. My daughter was in her car seat in the back shrieking "Honk! Honk at that schmuck!" Even she was loosing patience and ready to fling her sippy cup at the gastropod mollusk. We were trying to get back home so we could turn on the British Open and watch Westwood and Woods duke it out for the final four holes. But with a trip that should normally take no more than 20 minutes we were out for nearly an hour and a half. Population overload. People are tired of living in the crime riddled, over-croweded over priced cities and moving out to the boondocks. Nothing surprises me anymore with the mess we have ruining this country and all the scandals with more waiting to be unveiled. Nixon would have been given the keys to Denver (Most sought after city listed by Forbes) by today's standards though I'm not so sure there are standards anymore. The current administration obviously has no standards and it doesn't take a certain political leaning to agree that things aren't so great. I turned on Bill Monroe and listened to him singing Blue Moon of Kentucky and I sat back in my recliner and wondered what happened to the world I knew once as a child. Where did it go? I turn on Alabama, The Beach Boys, Billy Joel, Dion and the Belmonts, Tiffany, The Traveling Wilbury's and I'm taken away to a different time and I am struck by pangs of nostalgia. But it's not only that I am longing to return to that world, but I wish my daughter could have been able to experience such a world. I don't want her to think that corruption in the highest office, the regular scandals and catering to the lower class of society is OK. I don't want her to think that rampant divorce rates is OK. I don't want her to think that taking God and religion out of schools and out of society in general is OK. I don't want her to think that not being patriotic toward ones nation is OK. I don't want her to think that Dominos pizza and their crappy recipe is OK. It should be a crime for them to be allowed to charge as much as a quarter for a large pie. I don't want her to have to fear for her life every time she steps out her door because the streets are filled with brutes and streets thugs. I don't want her to have to wait in breadlines because the President feels the need to go on vacation. Do you get the picture? I don't want her to think that it is OK for a society to conduct itself like a filthy Animal farm. I don't want her think that owing a gun is wrong. I don't want her to think that $3.62 for a gallon of gas is OK. I don't want her to think that $4.15 for a loaf of bread is OK. I don't want her to think that 16% unemployment is OK. Are you tasting the vinegar yet? It doesn't matter your political leanings you can't deny nor argue the facts. They are called facts for a reason and in a world where there is no reason all you can depend on is the facts and for people out there to give them to you straight.
You think you are the only one out there struggling and grinding away for every nickel you earn and wondering if before long it is going to be taken away from you by some crazy brownshirt who laughs hysterically with stale, fetid breath before beating you black and blue with a Billie Club? "That can't happen here,"I have had people say to me. Tell that to an old holocaust survivor from the 1930s-40s. They once probably thought the same thing. I didn't mean to rain on your weekend but it was just something I wanted to get off my chest. Sometimes a thought is triggered but it just isn't the right time to put it down. Maybe this is one of those times but it is something that everyone needs to constantly be told, over and over because it is so easy to become complacent.
It all weighs so heavy on all of us and those that claim it doesn't are probably high on illegal jungle juice, or have a prescription for old Mary Jane. I'd rather talk about the weather which as been as bizarre as everything else going on right now. The temperatures here are soaring, every day in the 90s which I love but it also rains every single day at least once, sometimes twice. Most likely we are experiencing the beginning of a geomagnetic polar shift which will take thousands of years to complete it's cycle but people are going mad in the process and trying desperately to come up with an answer. My answer over the past four days has been to eat so much junk that my organs feel like they are beginning to shut down. I was so full of saturated fat and sodium that I have been tossing and turning every night, my mind flooded with all kinds of nightmares. I am in the ocean caught in a rip current and being stalked by jittery sharks, my towel on the beach filled with spider nests and then walking home I am repeatedly mugged by roving bands of hoodlums of all different races. Don't try and peg me as some kind of racist because I do not judge based on color but on the conditions of society and the degenerates that make it up.
Thankfully we still have our books that we can turn to to lose ourselves. But who knows how long it will be before our books are taken away from us also. Maybe Mars is already inhabited. Maybe we'll all be turnip pickers.
Friday, July 19, 2013
THE PICKER'S PUB
By Greg Evans
There is a bond that all or most collectors have with each other. It is a mutual respect for the hobby and a joy of the hunt that keeps us going. People collect all different kinds of things from nearly anything you can imagine. Common items are old signs, toys, coins, stamps, art, wine, advertising, particular company items, etc. I actually collect a number of different things but my favorite things to collect are banknotes (paper money) and certain coins, stamps, trinket, and local art. And what I mean by trinkets are mainly items from different travels to both domestic and foreign places. It can be anything from a glass plate from Austria to a gift shop bag from Virginia or a glass dolphin from south florida, things that don't really have any great value if any at all nor will they ever hold any value but I am fascinated them. Many are small pieces of art that are intended to be souvenirs sold in gift shops or in touristy to people like myself who go crazy in such an atmosphere. I love going into the trinket shops and looking around and drooling over everything. If I could my house would be filled to the brim with trinkets from all over.
Most recently my sister sent me an October fest beer mug from Germany while she was over there and it is already on display in my dining room. I love it. I look at it every day and think to myself how neat it is to finally have one. I have always wanted one and while I was in Austria I came very close to purchasing one though in Salzburg they were quite expensive. Sometimes really all it takes is luck to stumble upon something that really gets the motor running. And it is not something you have to stand in front of and talk your self into buying. You know right away that it has something about it that is sucking you in and you have to have it. By George you simply have to have it!
Another fun collecting hobby of mine is notaphily which is the collecting and study of paper money. I have been collecting banknotes for a few years and have a decent, somewhat small collection though it is one that I love to go through and I expand on it whenever I come across a bill that is affordable and one I know I just have to have. I have money from all corners of the globe from domestic American money to Central and South American countries, Africa, Europe, Scandinavia, Antarctica, Australia, various Islands in the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans. There is so much out there and some from countries that you may not even have known existed, places like Hyderabad, or Rhodesia, the Isle of Man, or St. Helena. There are so many interesting places that have printed paper money and each bill is unique to the country that it comes from. Each one is a history lesson, as well as their individual beauty in terms of art.
A banknote is a promissory note, a negotiable instrument from a bank to be paid to the bearer when the bearer requires payment. Banknotes used to be backed by precious metals or commodities but today they are fiat money. Fiat money is money that's value is determined by government regulation. And in instances of extreme hyperinflation as what happened in Zimbabwe and Hungry in the 1930's the banknote that once had a specific value becomes nearly or completely worthless. The earliest known use of fiat money was the Yuan dynasty in China around the 11th century. But the earliest known banknote or paper money came from the Song dynasty of China in the 10th century and was called jiaozi. Even back then they had counterfeiting problems and to combat the counterfeiters they stamped the banknotes with government "Banknote" seals. The earliest use of paper money in the west was possibly around the 1660s.
A person by the name of Sanjay Relan from Hong Kong holds the Guinness book of world records for collecting 221 banknotes from 221 different countries. He also holds the Guinness book of world records from collecting, I believe, 235 coins from 235 different countries. Notaphily is a growing hobby but still fairly obscure. There are a number of legitimate companies that sell banknotes for a fair price and even other legitimate hobbyists who sell and trade with each other for the love a collecting and studying these interesting pieces of our history.
It is fun to collect stuff and you don't need an large collection to enjoy the hobby. The whole point is too enjoy searching out cool stuff and learning about the things that you bring into your life. Thanks for coming to the Picker's Pub and we hope to see you again soon.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
By Greg Evans
I remember standing behind the counter of the cafe where I once worked for minimum wage, day after day, year after year taking orders making caffeine infused drinks both hot and cold, serving sandwiches and pastries and sharing small talk with whoever was in the mood for a little conversation before heading off to work. My favorite shift used to be the morning which we called the 1st shift. I would arrive about thirty minutes early and begin opening up, making the first couple pots of coffee of the day, putting the soup on and rotating the sandwiches and baking the different treats that required baking. I used to love the smell of the brewing coffee and I would have my usuals come in for their morning coffee and we'd share pleasantries and talk about the news or maybe a new book that was flying off the shelves. There would always be an eclectic montage of customers coming into the cafe. I worked in Chelsea section of Manhattan for a couple of years and there was never a shortage of interesting people. I used to wonder often what the people who came to the counter did for a living, how they lived their lives, what places they looked forward to visiting the next time a vacation rolled around. I wondered if they were in good marriages or if they had a significant other at all?
One thing you learn about working in a cafe is that you can't judge a person by their exterior image. It is often very difficult to pinpoint how a person will be in conversation solely by appearance. There were times when I would expect a person to act one way and they would completely surprise me and be completely the opposite.
The life of minimum wage is a tough one. You are constantly under financial strain, the hours are lousy, you work on holidays, often poor or no benefits, but I think everyone in their life should have to work the crappy minimum wage work because it builds character. You are forced to put yourself out there, take a beating day in and day out with not all that much to show for it and you have a lot riding on your shoulders because you are in the field. You represent the brand of the company and the customers are the real thing. How you treat the customers reflects on the company and I can tell you from personal experience that most of the people working in the minimum wage world don't care all that much about representing the company. They do what they have to do to get the work done so they don't have to listen to some boss bitching at them or worse finding a pink slip on their register, desk, frier or in their locker.
Some days are so bizarre you just feel like you fell down through the rabbit hole and into Wonderland. Even though most days are fairly routine and mundane, you have to look at every customer as a whole new unknown book that is yet to be read. They are full of stories and many are more than willing to share a couple. I once worked with a guy from Belfast, Ireland who claimed that he was a fugitive from the island and hiding out in New York working in a cafe to eek out a living. He said that when he was in Belfast he was involved with an underground organization who disagreed with the Protestants and what they stood for and he said that one night he a a couple of other guys blew up a Protestant building that was supposedly some kind of headquarters. The guy looked as if he would participate in such activities, chain smoked heavily and listened to punk rock music. If anyone complained about their drink he would spit into their drink and was fired not long after such an incident. Another co-corker would take gift cards and somehow put money onto them and then sell them to people in his neighborhood. The police actually arrested him at his building. It was an eye opener working in the minimum wage world and though life was harder during those years, I learned a great deal about business and human nature.
I remember standing behind the counter of the cafe where I once worked for minimum wage, day after day, year after year taking orders making caffeine infused drinks both hot and cold, serving sandwiches and pastries and sharing small talk with whoever was in the mood for a little conversation before heading off to work. My favorite shift used to be the morning which we called the 1st shift. I would arrive about thirty minutes early and begin opening up, making the first couple pots of coffee of the day, putting the soup on and rotating the sandwiches and baking the different treats that required baking. I used to love the smell of the brewing coffee and I would have my usuals come in for their morning coffee and we'd share pleasantries and talk about the news or maybe a new book that was flying off the shelves. There would always be an eclectic montage of customers coming into the cafe. I worked in Chelsea section of Manhattan for a couple of years and there was never a shortage of interesting people. I used to wonder often what the people who came to the counter did for a living, how they lived their lives, what places they looked forward to visiting the next time a vacation rolled around. I wondered if they were in good marriages or if they had a significant other at all?
One thing you learn about working in a cafe is that you can't judge a person by their exterior image. It is often very difficult to pinpoint how a person will be in conversation solely by appearance. There were times when I would expect a person to act one way and they would completely surprise me and be completely the opposite.
The life of minimum wage is a tough one. You are constantly under financial strain, the hours are lousy, you work on holidays, often poor or no benefits, but I think everyone in their life should have to work the crappy minimum wage work because it builds character. You are forced to put yourself out there, take a beating day in and day out with not all that much to show for it and you have a lot riding on your shoulders because you are in the field. You represent the brand of the company and the customers are the real thing. How you treat the customers reflects on the company and I can tell you from personal experience that most of the people working in the minimum wage world don't care all that much about representing the company. They do what they have to do to get the work done so they don't have to listen to some boss bitching at them or worse finding a pink slip on their register, desk, frier or in their locker.
Some days are so bizarre you just feel like you fell down through the rabbit hole and into Wonderland. Even though most days are fairly routine and mundane, you have to look at every customer as a whole new unknown book that is yet to be read. They are full of stories and many are more than willing to share a couple. I once worked with a guy from Belfast, Ireland who claimed that he was a fugitive from the island and hiding out in New York working in a cafe to eek out a living. He said that when he was in Belfast he was involved with an underground organization who disagreed with the Protestants and what they stood for and he said that one night he a a couple of other guys blew up a Protestant building that was supposedly some kind of headquarters. The guy looked as if he would participate in such activities, chain smoked heavily and listened to punk rock music. If anyone complained about their drink he would spit into their drink and was fired not long after such an incident. Another co-corker would take gift cards and somehow put money onto them and then sell them to people in his neighborhood. The police actually arrested him at his building. It was an eye opener working in the minimum wage world and though life was harder during those years, I learned a great deal about business and human nature.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
REAL MADRID CLUB WORTH $3.3 BILLION
By Greg Evans
I read a Forbes article today that listed the soccer/futbol team Real Madrid as the most valuable franchise in the world valued at $3.3 billion dollars. The club is headed by a Spanish billionaire and owned by 93,000 members who pay $195 annually (Forbes).
It is much like the Green Bay Packers who is owned by the people of Green Bay, Wisconsin. I played soccer/futbol for eight years so I understand the appeal the sport has world wide. Real Madrid has been loosely around since the year 1897 when futbol was introduced to Madrid by the students of college. But in March of 1905 the club was officially formed. In 1929 the Spanish futbol league was founded and Real Madrid finished the season in 2nd place behind Barcelona. For an athletic club to bring in that much revenue is phenomenal and it is amazing how little they are known to the average person walking down the street here in America.
There is really nothing else in terms of entertainment that can rival the Real Madrid club except for maybe Agatha Christie or Disney World and in a few years maybe Harry Potter. I think the appeal has come from the great players from both Ronaldos and Beckham amongst others that have risen the club's star into the stratosphere. But it is also great marketing and the ability to get great companies to advertise with the company like a Dubai Airlines willing to pay a whopping $39 million. But that is what makes capitalism great and all successful nations have a steady grip on capitalism and all those that abhor capitalism become the dirty street, graffiti riddled cesspools of vice, bread lines and perversion. Analogous to places like Chicago, Oakland, Camden or Detroit. Does that really raise any eyebrows? We've been in a recession now for 5 straight years because the weasels run America like a bankrupt soup kitchen instead of the Real Madrid Soccer brand. When George Bush left office the price of gas was $1.87 a gallon. Any questions...? I didn't think so. I am now a Real Madrid fan because I love the philosophy of making as much money as you can! And I know that offends a lot of people out there but I don't really give a damn. And neither should you because while you are sitting around stewing over Donald Trump building a new hotel in Bangkok, smoking your dope and chatting on internet freak sites, people like me are working late into the night building empires.
The Real Madrid soccer team should inspire you to build your own brand. Kick some tail and collect all the stories that you are going to come across so your grandkids will someday want to be like you the architect of something great and not the schmuck politician with a fat mistress and a pill habit.
I read a Forbes article today that listed the soccer/futbol team Real Madrid as the most valuable franchise in the world valued at $3.3 billion dollars. The club is headed by a Spanish billionaire and owned by 93,000 members who pay $195 annually (Forbes).
It is much like the Green Bay Packers who is owned by the people of Green Bay, Wisconsin. I played soccer/futbol for eight years so I understand the appeal the sport has world wide. Real Madrid has been loosely around since the year 1897 when futbol was introduced to Madrid by the students of college. But in March of 1905 the club was officially formed. In 1929 the Spanish futbol league was founded and Real Madrid finished the season in 2nd place behind Barcelona. For an athletic club to bring in that much revenue is phenomenal and it is amazing how little they are known to the average person walking down the street here in America.
There is really nothing else in terms of entertainment that can rival the Real Madrid club except for maybe Agatha Christie or Disney World and in a few years maybe Harry Potter. I think the appeal has come from the great players from both Ronaldos and Beckham amongst others that have risen the club's star into the stratosphere. But it is also great marketing and the ability to get great companies to advertise with the company like a Dubai Airlines willing to pay a whopping $39 million. But that is what makes capitalism great and all successful nations have a steady grip on capitalism and all those that abhor capitalism become the dirty street, graffiti riddled cesspools of vice, bread lines and perversion. Analogous to places like Chicago, Oakland, Camden or Detroit. Does that really raise any eyebrows? We've been in a recession now for 5 straight years because the weasels run America like a bankrupt soup kitchen instead of the Real Madrid Soccer brand. When George Bush left office the price of gas was $1.87 a gallon. Any questions...? I didn't think so. I am now a Real Madrid fan because I love the philosophy of making as much money as you can! And I know that offends a lot of people out there but I don't really give a damn. And neither should you because while you are sitting around stewing over Donald Trump building a new hotel in Bangkok, smoking your dope and chatting on internet freak sites, people like me are working late into the night building empires.
The Real Madrid soccer team should inspire you to build your own brand. Kick some tail and collect all the stories that you are going to come across so your grandkids will someday want to be like you the architect of something great and not the schmuck politician with a fat mistress and a pill habit.
Monday, July 15, 2013
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
By Greg Evans
For 100,000 years, maybe as far back as half a million years, give or take, people have been catching fish in the oceans, rivers and lakes of the world and consuming them. And there are cultures known for subsisting mainly on fish and are also known to have long life expectancies and low instances of debilitating and dangerous diseases for example, heart disease, angina pectoris, different cancers, etc. Then some chump doctor cooks up the idea that somehow eating omega-3 fatty acid which is in many of the fish consumed gives you prostate cancer which is absurd and yet news syndicates gave these quacks their 15 minutes of fame which is all they wanted in the first place. Before cancer became a household name, due to the fact that regular use of chemicals in everything we use from the cars we drive to the food we eat thereby increasing those with a propensity to succumb to cancer getting the horrible cell mutation, people were eating fish just as often as they do today.
Just this morning I read the title of an article on an online news site that said to the effect, "Eating Junk Food Helps Lower Obesity." If that is not the most derisory, cockamamy bunch of pill popping babble, how in the world would that ever make any sense. Last week fish oil (omega-3) causes cancer and now junk food makes fat people skinny...? The only way fat people can get skinny, as I mentioned in an article last week, is to eat healthy food and exercise. Maybe I should win the Nobel Prize for that statement. The real moral to the story is to use a little bit of common sense, even when it comes to your diet. If fish was so bad for you then the human race would have become extinct a long time ago. If you take supplemental omega-3 gel caps then take them with moderation. Nature strives for balance in everything no matter what it is the world tries to maintain balance and when that law is violated is when you knowingly or unknowingly put yourself at risk with high blood pressure, heart disease, cancer, etc. It's the same as if you put salt on your food for every meal by 50 you can expect a stroke or if you eat soft cheese everyday or fast food by 50 you can expect a heart attack or if you smoke a pack a day for 30 years you can be pretty sure that you'll come down with either lung cancer or emphysema, or some other hideous affliction. Drink too much liquor and you end up with cirrhosis of the liver Take a step back and think about your bad habits.
For 100,000 years, maybe as far back as half a million years, give or take, people have been catching fish in the oceans, rivers and lakes of the world and consuming them. And there are cultures known for subsisting mainly on fish and are also known to have long life expectancies and low instances of debilitating and dangerous diseases for example, heart disease, angina pectoris, different cancers, etc. Then some chump doctor cooks up the idea that somehow eating omega-3 fatty acid which is in many of the fish consumed gives you prostate cancer which is absurd and yet news syndicates gave these quacks their 15 minutes of fame which is all they wanted in the first place. Before cancer became a household name, due to the fact that regular use of chemicals in everything we use from the cars we drive to the food we eat thereby increasing those with a propensity to succumb to cancer getting the horrible cell mutation, people were eating fish just as often as they do today.
Just this morning I read the title of an article on an online news site that said to the effect, "Eating Junk Food Helps Lower Obesity." If that is not the most derisory, cockamamy bunch of pill popping babble, how in the world would that ever make any sense. Last week fish oil (omega-3) causes cancer and now junk food makes fat people skinny...? The only way fat people can get skinny, as I mentioned in an article last week, is to eat healthy food and exercise. Maybe I should win the Nobel Prize for that statement. The real moral to the story is to use a little bit of common sense, even when it comes to your diet. If fish was so bad for you then the human race would have become extinct a long time ago. If you take supplemental omega-3 gel caps then take them with moderation. Nature strives for balance in everything no matter what it is the world tries to maintain balance and when that law is violated is when you knowingly or unknowingly put yourself at risk with high blood pressure, heart disease, cancer, etc. It's the same as if you put salt on your food for every meal by 50 you can expect a stroke or if you eat soft cheese everyday or fast food by 50 you can expect a heart attack or if you smoke a pack a day for 30 years you can be pretty sure that you'll come down with either lung cancer or emphysema, or some other hideous affliction. Drink too much liquor and you end up with cirrhosis of the liver Take a step back and think about your bad habits.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
A CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES
By Greg Evans
Now this is something that really gets under my skin. And that is when American citizens or even citizens of other countries burn their own nations flags. Rubbish! You don't like the country you are living in, then get the hell out of it! Over in Oakland, California, the armpit of the state, a wasteland of vice, laziness and degeneracy, there are a few black people who are upset with the Zimmerman trial verdict and have the nerve to burn the flag in the streets. Shame on you! This case had nothing to do with race and everything to do with what constitutes using deadly force in a confrontation. My opinion is that these people were looking for a reason to burn a flag because they blame America and white people for their poverty. You are poor and living in a rotten filthy neighborhood riddled with crime and degenerates because you are the problem, not America. If you want a better life then go to school and study like everyone else, earn your entry level job in a company and work your way up like everybody else. It's time to stop playing the victim and become part of society. All this screaming about racism and there is a black man sitting in the oval office. The slavery card can no longer be played in America. It is time to man up and take some responsibility. And everyone reading this knows exactly what I mean by that. If you walk through Beverly Hills or Manhattan Beach or La Jolla California at 2:00 am. you don't have to worry about being mugged and beaten up in the street or dragged into an alleyway. But if you walk through Oakland at 2:00 am. you will be lucky to get out alive. Is that making any sense? This article is not meant to be racial but it is intended to argue a case and point and to vent on the losers burning the flag.
I have never been so appalled then watching these crack pots burning the flag. If it was up to me I'd round them all up and ship them off to the Sudan. And they think it is bad here. They wouldn't be burning anything over there. They'd be burning over some cannibals cooking fire. Oh! Here is some food for thought for all you geniuses out there, the Portuguese were the first people to bring Africans to American shores to sell them to landowners. So if you want to burn a flag you should be reaching for the flag of Portugal because the trial had nothing to do with the flag burning. These gangsters in Oakland claim to be upset that one of their "own" was killed in Florida and no justice was served yet they most likely went out that night and had a gang fight and killed three of their "own." So figure that one out? That is your lesson for the day. Test on Tuesday.
Now this is something that really gets under my skin. And that is when American citizens or even citizens of other countries burn their own nations flags. Rubbish! You don't like the country you are living in, then get the hell out of it! Over in Oakland, California, the armpit of the state, a wasteland of vice, laziness and degeneracy, there are a few black people who are upset with the Zimmerman trial verdict and have the nerve to burn the flag in the streets. Shame on you! This case had nothing to do with race and everything to do with what constitutes using deadly force in a confrontation. My opinion is that these people were looking for a reason to burn a flag because they blame America and white people for their poverty. You are poor and living in a rotten filthy neighborhood riddled with crime and degenerates because you are the problem, not America. If you want a better life then go to school and study like everyone else, earn your entry level job in a company and work your way up like everybody else. It's time to stop playing the victim and become part of society. All this screaming about racism and there is a black man sitting in the oval office. The slavery card can no longer be played in America. It is time to man up and take some responsibility. And everyone reading this knows exactly what I mean by that. If you walk through Beverly Hills or Manhattan Beach or La Jolla California at 2:00 am. you don't have to worry about being mugged and beaten up in the street or dragged into an alleyway. But if you walk through Oakland at 2:00 am. you will be lucky to get out alive. Is that making any sense? This article is not meant to be racial but it is intended to argue a case and point and to vent on the losers burning the flag.
I have never been so appalled then watching these crack pots burning the flag. If it was up to me I'd round them all up and ship them off to the Sudan. And they think it is bad here. They wouldn't be burning anything over there. They'd be burning over some cannibals cooking fire. Oh! Here is some food for thought for all you geniuses out there, the Portuguese were the first people to bring Africans to American shores to sell them to landowners. So if you want to burn a flag you should be reaching for the flag of Portugal because the trial had nothing to do with the flag burning. These gangsters in Oakland claim to be upset that one of their "own" was killed in Florida and no justice was served yet they most likely went out that night and had a gang fight and killed three of their "own." So figure that one out? That is your lesson for the day. Test on Tuesday.
CARPE DIEM
By Greg Evans
As we landed in loaded onto the bus for the trip to Gatwick Airport for our connecting flight I felt a little bit of fatigue after sleeping poorly on the flight from New York, but British Airways is my favorite airline to travel on. They were wonderful with my daughter, provided her a backpack to carry her crayons, coloring books, puzzle, dolls, books, chips, hair bows, rocks, leaves, and whatever else she may have located on the floor of the different airport terminals. They then provided us with delicious chicken salad sandwiches, and a wonderful selection of wine from I believe South Africa, and kept the wine flowing throughout the flight and then for dinner served a mouth watering spicy curry dish. On the air radio they had classical composers which I love and the stewardesses were friendly and helpful.
Well we then were on a bus destined for Gatwick and what fascinated me is that leaving Heathrow Airport we almost immediately found ourselves driving through the country side with sheep grazing and homesteads, hedge rows and forests. It was remarkable. For miles small villages and endless rolling green hills and land, lots of open land. It was beautiful and peaceful and I strangely thought about the great English writers from the past and it doesn't surprise me that they were inspired by the world around them. And back then it was even less built up and equally magical. England has an enchanting quality to it as if you might very well see a coterie of fairies flying past spreading pixie dust around or maybe an ogre chopping wood beside it's home in a 1,000 year-old tree trunk. I imagined what the Roman soldiers first thought when they arrived to a land so different then Italy and those that spent their lives building Hadrian's Wall. I dearly wanted to exit the bus and walk up to someone's cottage, knock on the door and ask them if they would have tea with me and talk about life in the English country side. I picture it to be a peaceful life, slowed down from the typical hustle and bustle of the big cities like London or Birmingham, though when my Uncle and Aunt lived in London I found it to be a pleasant city.
So there we'd be in Heathrow Airport which was a lot like JFK in New York, it was busy with people running from here to there, lines at the security luggage and body check areas but then in the blink of an eye we were miles from anything and anywhere. I lose myself in such serene surroundings and my imagination takes off. I can't help but wonder what other eyes of great minds who intrigue me daily with their insight and creativity, scientific exploration and necessary humor have looked upon the same small white cottage with the brown roof and gravel drive, or looked watching the meandering road racing past, the farm animals grazing and enjoying the cool midsummer's air. We did not see the sun for our entire stay in England though it didn't take away from the fetching aura of the charming island. The English countryside is a place where the poetry that lives inside all of us is brought to the surface and each person on that bus had they access to a note pad and pencil I imagine could have scribbled a metered line of blissful poetry. Carpe Diem!
As we landed in loaded onto the bus for the trip to Gatwick Airport for our connecting flight I felt a little bit of fatigue after sleeping poorly on the flight from New York, but British Airways is my favorite airline to travel on. They were wonderful with my daughter, provided her a backpack to carry her crayons, coloring books, puzzle, dolls, books, chips, hair bows, rocks, leaves, and whatever else she may have located on the floor of the different airport terminals. They then provided us with delicious chicken salad sandwiches, and a wonderful selection of wine from I believe South Africa, and kept the wine flowing throughout the flight and then for dinner served a mouth watering spicy curry dish. On the air radio they had classical composers which I love and the stewardesses were friendly and helpful.
Well we then were on a bus destined for Gatwick and what fascinated me is that leaving Heathrow Airport we almost immediately found ourselves driving through the country side with sheep grazing and homesteads, hedge rows and forests. It was remarkable. For miles small villages and endless rolling green hills and land, lots of open land. It was beautiful and peaceful and I strangely thought about the great English writers from the past and it doesn't surprise me that they were inspired by the world around them. And back then it was even less built up and equally magical. England has an enchanting quality to it as if you might very well see a coterie of fairies flying past spreading pixie dust around or maybe an ogre chopping wood beside it's home in a 1,000 year-old tree trunk. I imagined what the Roman soldiers first thought when they arrived to a land so different then Italy and those that spent their lives building Hadrian's Wall. I dearly wanted to exit the bus and walk up to someone's cottage, knock on the door and ask them if they would have tea with me and talk about life in the English country side. I picture it to be a peaceful life, slowed down from the typical hustle and bustle of the big cities like London or Birmingham, though when my Uncle and Aunt lived in London I found it to be a pleasant city.
So there we'd be in Heathrow Airport which was a lot like JFK in New York, it was busy with people running from here to there, lines at the security luggage and body check areas but then in the blink of an eye we were miles from anything and anywhere. I lose myself in such serene surroundings and my imagination takes off. I can't help but wonder what other eyes of great minds who intrigue me daily with their insight and creativity, scientific exploration and necessary humor have looked upon the same small white cottage with the brown roof and gravel drive, or looked watching the meandering road racing past, the farm animals grazing and enjoying the cool midsummer's air. We did not see the sun for our entire stay in England though it didn't take away from the fetching aura of the charming island. The English countryside is a place where the poetry that lives inside all of us is brought to the surface and each person on that bus had they access to a note pad and pencil I imagine could have scribbled a metered line of blissful poetry. Carpe Diem!
Saturday, July 13, 2013
THE WRONG WAY ON A ONE WAY ROAD
Well there you go, George Zimmerman was given a not guilty verdict. 0-3 on the big media trials. I guessed O.J. was guilty, Casey Anthony was guilty and Zimmerman was guilty, all acquitted. But the thing about it is that we have a wonderful system of justice and the jury has decided and that is the end of it. Even though I may not agree I have to take it for what it is and I believe in our system of justice. Will Zimmerman win a civil lawsuit which is surly to follow? Like O.J. I think he will lose but who really knows. I am not disappointed with the verdict but I do worry about what the future of such incidents will follow. Does this case become a landmark case that opens the door for vigilante justice regardless of whether or not the person is actually guilty. Nobody really knows if Trayvon Martin was really up to no good...Yes he had a sketchy past but that night he may have not been doing anything wrong. So if I am out on a power walk in the middle of the night and I end up shot to death by some lunatic, can they now claim self-defense? I suppose yes is the proper answer.
This is not just a worrisome case here in America but for anybody walking down any street anywhere in the world. If a citizen of Russia is walking down a street in Moscow and realizes someone is following him or her and finally decides to confront the weirdo, ends up in a "confrontation" does the stalker have the right to gun down the person out for a walk? This is universal and I know the laws vary not only in each state in America and around the world but the situation and the outcome are universal.
This is not just a worrisome case here in America but for anybody walking down any street anywhere in the world. If a citizen of Russia is walking down a street in Moscow and realizes someone is following him or her and finally decides to confront the weirdo, ends up in a "confrontation" does the stalker have the right to gun down the person out for a walk? This is universal and I know the laws vary not only in each state in America and around the world but the situation and the outcome are universal.
TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS
By Greg Evans
If he was wearing a mask he'd pull off the perfect villain in Despicable Me 2. But there is no telling whether or not he was truly out to become the greatest villain of 2013, or if the circumstances of poor decision making lead to him up on the chopping block. Everywhere I go I hear people discussing the case and everyone has a different opinion on what will happen, what should happen, and why they are right, hands down. I have my own idea of what the outcome should be as well as what happened on that night. Now that the trial is coming to a close and the possibility of a hung jury hanging in the balance which would no doubt cause a stir with everyone needing some kind of closure on the case even though they are in no way connected to the mysterious shooting of a 17-year old tattooed thug. The fact that Trayvon Martin was no saint, a petty burglar and dope smoker that is not what the case should be about, nor should it be about race. What the case should be about in my opinion is the fact that George Zimmerman, a vigilante should not have provoked a fight with a person, shoot the person who he engaged in a confrontation and then cry foul ball, "it was self-defense." That simply doesn't make nut. Everything else about this case is irrelevant. George Zimmerman's wounds to his head and wherever else, his wounded pride about losing the fight, Trayvon Martin's shopping list from the convenient store, what either one was wearing or what was said or whether in was raining or there was an eclipse, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that Trayvon Martin was walking down the road, Zimmerman forced the confrontation and then shot his opponent and calls that self-defense. No way buddy! Sour grapes. This is a cut and dry case that should result in a manslaughter conviction. The fact that it got so much media attention and publicity is a bit outrageous but since it is in the spotlight we might as well discuss it because there is an element of interest.
People become very tied up and sensitive when it comes to big time trials often regarding ambiguous arguments that for the most part appear fairly clear cut but time and time again we are faced with jury decisions that have seemed to have originated from Neptune. As so in the case of O.J. Simpson who more likely than not killed his wife and her friend. There was also the case of the Casey Anthony case where such incredibly overwhelming evidence pointed at her having either killed her daughter or kept her death a secret allowing her corpse to rot in garbage bags in a swamp with duck tape on her face. Of course she was acquitted but that doesn't mean that she was innocent, it only meant that the jury found reasonable doubt in the prosecutions case.
A new update in the case is that the jury appears to be confused about the definition of manslaughter. What else are they confused about? I blame the prosecution for not clarifying the manslaughter charge and providing a step by step blueprint of why manslaughter as a conviction would be rational.
P.S. The judge in this case has been a rotten mess and should be kicked off the bench.
If he was wearing a mask he'd pull off the perfect villain in Despicable Me 2. But there is no telling whether or not he was truly out to become the greatest villain of 2013, or if the circumstances of poor decision making lead to him up on the chopping block. Everywhere I go I hear people discussing the case and everyone has a different opinion on what will happen, what should happen, and why they are right, hands down. I have my own idea of what the outcome should be as well as what happened on that night. Now that the trial is coming to a close and the possibility of a hung jury hanging in the balance which would no doubt cause a stir with everyone needing some kind of closure on the case even though they are in no way connected to the mysterious shooting of a 17-year old tattooed thug. The fact that Trayvon Martin was no saint, a petty burglar and dope smoker that is not what the case should be about, nor should it be about race. What the case should be about in my opinion is the fact that George Zimmerman, a vigilante should not have provoked a fight with a person, shoot the person who he engaged in a confrontation and then cry foul ball, "it was self-defense." That simply doesn't make nut. Everything else about this case is irrelevant. George Zimmerman's wounds to his head and wherever else, his wounded pride about losing the fight, Trayvon Martin's shopping list from the convenient store, what either one was wearing or what was said or whether in was raining or there was an eclipse, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that Trayvon Martin was walking down the road, Zimmerman forced the confrontation and then shot his opponent and calls that self-defense. No way buddy! Sour grapes. This is a cut and dry case that should result in a manslaughter conviction. The fact that it got so much media attention and publicity is a bit outrageous but since it is in the spotlight we might as well discuss it because there is an element of interest.
People become very tied up and sensitive when it comes to big time trials often regarding ambiguous arguments that for the most part appear fairly clear cut but time and time again we are faced with jury decisions that have seemed to have originated from Neptune. As so in the case of O.J. Simpson who more likely than not killed his wife and her friend. There was also the case of the Casey Anthony case where such incredibly overwhelming evidence pointed at her having either killed her daughter or kept her death a secret allowing her corpse to rot in garbage bags in a swamp with duck tape on her face. Of course she was acquitted but that doesn't mean that she was innocent, it only meant that the jury found reasonable doubt in the prosecutions case.
A new update in the case is that the jury appears to be confused about the definition of manslaughter. What else are they confused about? I blame the prosecution for not clarifying the manslaughter charge and providing a step by step blueprint of why manslaughter as a conviction would be rational.
P.S. The judge in this case has been a rotten mess and should be kicked off the bench.
A PORTRAIT OF IMPERFECTION
By Greg Evans
I am a huge baseball fan, a New York Yankees fan to be exact. I grew up not far from Yankee stadium, lived briefly in the Bronx, attended many games over the years, and spoke of the Yankees often on my morning radio show on WRCM back in the 90s. I have always supported the players on the roster though every now and then something will irritate me along with every other fan of professional sports. And that is when the big money players don't perform. And what is worse is when they don't perform year after year but continue to get paid astronomical salaries lack luster showings. Why is this the case? Because of the stupidity of long-term contracts in professional sports guaranteeing these athletes money regardless of their production. Alex Rodriguez is the one-time third baseman for the Yankees, initially thought to be a superstar in the making he has, for the most part, crashed and burned while wearing the pinstripes though his wallet hasn't taken the nose dive that his performance has and this is troubling. Here is a guy who currently is playing for a minor league baseball program coming off an injury batting .133 (which is terrible) and earning in excess of $30,000,000. Why should he deserve to make that much money despite performing worse than say someone earning $450,000, which is around the minimum wage for professional baseball?
I honestly don't have too much of a problem with athletes making large sums of money because that is what the market pays and so if you are talented enough to reach that pinnacle, then go for it. But what bothers me is those who are paid to disappoint. If a brain surgeon is regularly giving people brain damage or worse fatal injuries should they still be able to earn over $1,000,000? Of course not and they don't because they are either demoted or fired. In most sports if a coach can't seem to produce a winning team they are fired and rightly so, that is the nature of the beast. But for a team to be locked into a contract with a guy for many years for enormous sums of money for nothing is absolutely absurd. Alex Rodriguez should be cut from the team and not paid any money because frankly, he doesn't deserve $25 let alone $100,000,000. And that is coming from a die hard Yankee fan who never likes to put down members of the team. I had to get that off my chest after reading an article this morning.
I am a huge baseball fan, a New York Yankees fan to be exact. I grew up not far from Yankee stadium, lived briefly in the Bronx, attended many games over the years, and spoke of the Yankees often on my morning radio show on WRCM back in the 90s. I have always supported the players on the roster though every now and then something will irritate me along with every other fan of professional sports. And that is when the big money players don't perform. And what is worse is when they don't perform year after year but continue to get paid astronomical salaries lack luster showings. Why is this the case? Because of the stupidity of long-term contracts in professional sports guaranteeing these athletes money regardless of their production. Alex Rodriguez is the one-time third baseman for the Yankees, initially thought to be a superstar in the making he has, for the most part, crashed and burned while wearing the pinstripes though his wallet hasn't taken the nose dive that his performance has and this is troubling. Here is a guy who currently is playing for a minor league baseball program coming off an injury batting .133 (which is terrible) and earning in excess of $30,000,000. Why should he deserve to make that much money despite performing worse than say someone earning $450,000, which is around the minimum wage for professional baseball?
I honestly don't have too much of a problem with athletes making large sums of money because that is what the market pays and so if you are talented enough to reach that pinnacle, then go for it. But what bothers me is those who are paid to disappoint. If a brain surgeon is regularly giving people brain damage or worse fatal injuries should they still be able to earn over $1,000,000? Of course not and they don't because they are either demoted or fired. In most sports if a coach can't seem to produce a winning team they are fired and rightly so, that is the nature of the beast. But for a team to be locked into a contract with a guy for many years for enormous sums of money for nothing is absolutely absurd. Alex Rodriguez should be cut from the team and not paid any money because frankly, he doesn't deserve $25 let alone $100,000,000. And that is coming from a die hard Yankee fan who never likes to put down members of the team. I had to get that off my chest after reading an article this morning.
Friday, July 12, 2013
OFF THE BEATEN PATH
By Greg Evans
Years ago my mother took us on a trip to the western coast of Mexico to a little pueblo about a forty minute drive northeast of Mazatlan Mexico. Mazatlan is a glamorous, exotic port city filled with mouth watering eateries (the most well known the Vieux Port), old cantinas, Las Olas Altas beach, the Malecon, El Faro shining out over the blue warm water of the Pacific Ocean, beautiful women and all the adventure any petal to the metal traveler could ever wish to find. The small pueblo was called La Noria and just outside this dusty, sun drenched village located at the base of the San Madre Occidental is a luxury resort called the Hacienda Las Moras. But the day I stepped out of the old cowboys beat up blue jalopy at the end of a long red dirt road, there was no luxury hotel. It was an abandoned former tequila factory and vinata owned by a one-time high roller in the world of tequila named Roberto Conde. The life of this man, Roberto Conde is a fairly mysterious one and despite his friendship with Pancho Villa, his great wealth forged from the liquid gold of Mexico, his popularity during his lifetime in the local politics, little is known about him in the modern day tequila world, though he was a pioneer in his day.
He would often be seen riding a bicycle from his ranch estate to town where he had another large home and flying alongside him from tree branch to tree branch was his beloved pet green parrot. In the year 1917 Roberto Conde contracted the world wide flu that killed 28 million people. Roberto Conde also perished and the tequila business was inherited by his son Zacarias who at the time happened to be married to the daughter of another prominent tequila manufacturer in the area. But those were volatile times back then and an ambitious mayor with the last name Tirado an ametuer tequila producer with a vision of monopolizing the tequila business for himself in the Mazatlan area decided that he was going to take land owned by about six or seven of the prominent tequila manufacturers. The vinata owners refused to submit to his strong arming and declared that he would never take their land. Rumors were spreading through the area that Tirado was building a small military like force and he would use it to take the land he wanted by force. Zacarias Conde in secret had been arming the vinata owners and one warm sunny morning, while Zacarias was walking up the court house steps in Mazatlan most likely to argue the case for the vinata owners against Tirado he was assassinated in cold blood. His killer was never caught though a well known assassin during those times was suspected of his killing and the rumor was that he was hired by Tirado. The vinata owners were now frightened about what the future held for them knowing that Tirado would actually use violence to satisfy his ambitions they hired a mercenary outfit known loosely as the "woodsmen" or something to that effect to guard the vinatas at a moments notice. And that moment soon came.
With Zacarias out of the picture and the Hacienda Las Moras now being run by Zacarias's widowed wife, Tirado set his force of over 250 armed soldiers to take the land for him. The soldiers and the mercenary force hired by the vinata owners met on the grounds of the Hacienda Las Moras and waged a bloody battle for six long hours. When it was all over 216 of Tirado's men lay dead and wounded and the rest had fled. The vinata owners were victorious in their defeat of Tirado and he never again attempted to take any of their land by force. Unfortunately the damage to the Hacienda Las Moras was extensive and Zacarias's wife understandably didn't feel comfortable continuing to try and run the business or live on the land for fear they would again be attacked in the middle of the night and have no way to fight off the attackers and she moved back onto her family's land nearby. Part of the tequila factory was taken over by the other family and continued to produce the liquid gold for many years afterward. The estate itself fell into disrepair and that is when I visited it with my mother and sisters back in the late 1980's when it was still an abandoned estate. Sometime later it was sold to the current owners who renovated the place and turned it into a beautiful hotel that receives many visitors throughout the year.
As far as I can tell no more of Roberto Conde's mezcal or pulque are in existence today. The thing about the name of the liquor is that it can only be called tequila if it comes from the State of Jalisco and maybe one or two other states in Mexico under certain regulations and is mostly made from the blue agave. Roberto Conde produced mezcal which is made from the cooked heart of the agave. Tequila is a variation of mescal. Pulque is a milky colored sour tasting drink made from the fermented sap of the agave plant and was considered in Roberto Conde's day as the "poor man's tequila," though it was a prominent drink among elite classes in Mesoamerica up to the time of the Spanish Conquistadors before the creation of beer competed with pulque for customers.
It is enchanting to visit a location and hear the stories told of the people who once lived and worked the land, fought for their rights and their means to make a living and then the lives and stories of those people become shrouded in mystery, lost to the swirling dust of time and incidently become legend. Late at night in and around the old cantinas of the pueblo of La Noria if you sit with the old timers you can still hear the oral history passed down over a shot of tequila or a cold cerveza. "Buy the ticket, take the ride."
* The quote used above, "Buy the ticket, take the ride,"is credited to the late Hunter S. Thompson.
Years ago my mother took us on a trip to the western coast of Mexico to a little pueblo about a forty minute drive northeast of Mazatlan Mexico. Mazatlan is a glamorous, exotic port city filled with mouth watering eateries (the most well known the Vieux Port), old cantinas, Las Olas Altas beach, the Malecon, El Faro shining out over the blue warm water of the Pacific Ocean, beautiful women and all the adventure any petal to the metal traveler could ever wish to find. The small pueblo was called La Noria and just outside this dusty, sun drenched village located at the base of the San Madre Occidental is a luxury resort called the Hacienda Las Moras. But the day I stepped out of the old cowboys beat up blue jalopy at the end of a long red dirt road, there was no luxury hotel. It was an abandoned former tequila factory and vinata owned by a one-time high roller in the world of tequila named Roberto Conde. The life of this man, Roberto Conde is a fairly mysterious one and despite his friendship with Pancho Villa, his great wealth forged from the liquid gold of Mexico, his popularity during his lifetime in the local politics, little is known about him in the modern day tequila world, though he was a pioneer in his day.
He would often be seen riding a bicycle from his ranch estate to town where he had another large home and flying alongside him from tree branch to tree branch was his beloved pet green parrot. In the year 1917 Roberto Conde contracted the world wide flu that killed 28 million people. Roberto Conde also perished and the tequila business was inherited by his son Zacarias who at the time happened to be married to the daughter of another prominent tequila manufacturer in the area. But those were volatile times back then and an ambitious mayor with the last name Tirado an ametuer tequila producer with a vision of monopolizing the tequila business for himself in the Mazatlan area decided that he was going to take land owned by about six or seven of the prominent tequila manufacturers. The vinata owners refused to submit to his strong arming and declared that he would never take their land. Rumors were spreading through the area that Tirado was building a small military like force and he would use it to take the land he wanted by force. Zacarias Conde in secret had been arming the vinata owners and one warm sunny morning, while Zacarias was walking up the court house steps in Mazatlan most likely to argue the case for the vinata owners against Tirado he was assassinated in cold blood. His killer was never caught though a well known assassin during those times was suspected of his killing and the rumor was that he was hired by Tirado. The vinata owners were now frightened about what the future held for them knowing that Tirado would actually use violence to satisfy his ambitions they hired a mercenary outfit known loosely as the "woodsmen" or something to that effect to guard the vinatas at a moments notice. And that moment soon came.
With Zacarias out of the picture and the Hacienda Las Moras now being run by Zacarias's widowed wife, Tirado set his force of over 250 armed soldiers to take the land for him. The soldiers and the mercenary force hired by the vinata owners met on the grounds of the Hacienda Las Moras and waged a bloody battle for six long hours. When it was all over 216 of Tirado's men lay dead and wounded and the rest had fled. The vinata owners were victorious in their defeat of Tirado and he never again attempted to take any of their land by force. Unfortunately the damage to the Hacienda Las Moras was extensive and Zacarias's wife understandably didn't feel comfortable continuing to try and run the business or live on the land for fear they would again be attacked in the middle of the night and have no way to fight off the attackers and she moved back onto her family's land nearby. Part of the tequila factory was taken over by the other family and continued to produce the liquid gold for many years afterward. The estate itself fell into disrepair and that is when I visited it with my mother and sisters back in the late 1980's when it was still an abandoned estate. Sometime later it was sold to the current owners who renovated the place and turned it into a beautiful hotel that receives many visitors throughout the year.
As far as I can tell no more of Roberto Conde's mezcal or pulque are in existence today. The thing about the name of the liquor is that it can only be called tequila if it comes from the State of Jalisco and maybe one or two other states in Mexico under certain regulations and is mostly made from the blue agave. Roberto Conde produced mezcal which is made from the cooked heart of the agave. Tequila is a variation of mescal. Pulque is a milky colored sour tasting drink made from the fermented sap of the agave plant and was considered in Roberto Conde's day as the "poor man's tequila," though it was a prominent drink among elite classes in Mesoamerica up to the time of the Spanish Conquistadors before the creation of beer competed with pulque for customers.
It is enchanting to visit a location and hear the stories told of the people who once lived and worked the land, fought for their rights and their means to make a living and then the lives and stories of those people become shrouded in mystery, lost to the swirling dust of time and incidently become legend. Late at night in and around the old cantinas of the pueblo of La Noria if you sit with the old timers you can still hear the oral history passed down over a shot of tequila or a cold cerveza. "Buy the ticket, take the ride."
* The quote used above, "Buy the ticket, take the ride,"is credited to the late Hunter S. Thompson.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
THE DOUBLE CHIN HYPOTHESIS
By Greg Evans
A favorite time to talk about all the new diet fads, and secret dishes that you can eat and lose 20 pounds in a week without doing any remarkable exercise, is often while sitting in front of a television set shoveling a cheeseburger and french fries, a cherry pie, extra meat lovers pizza, krispy kreme donuts into your mouth while washing it all down with a soda pop or extra sweet tea. It is a study in the desperate illusion people have in contemporary society with losing weight and looking "good" while remotely varying an ordinarily awful diet. If you haven't noticed before, take a look around you at the lines at the fast food restaurants every morning while driving to work. You may even be one of the people waiting in the fast food line for an extra greasy egg biscuit with bacon and cheese, or the coffee loaded up with heavy cream and sugar. Then for a snack to keep you from clawing the walls until lunch time you eat candy stuffed in your desk, or a bag of chips or something unhealthy and high in salt from the vending machine along with a couple soda pops. Ah! Finally, lunch time rolls around and you roll on down to the nearby take out restaurant or fast food joint and load up on something with two whoppers with cheese, some ungodly fat count and what...4,000 mg of sodium, along with a large heavily sugared drink. Then you still have the last leg of your work day to get through. You munch on candy until it is finally time to go home for the day and while driving home you call in an order for a take out dish or you may just heat up a notoriously fattening frozen pizza or T.V. dinner. But this kind of behavior and eating habits are not a one time thing but a regular practice and you wonder why you have a double chin and drop dead of a massive heart attack at 45.
It isn't rocket science that healthy people are lean. And no it isn't about genetics. They work to stay that lean and fit. The secret to losing all that unwanted fat is eat healthy food, small portions and suffer through the agonizing pangs of hunger. You will feel as if you are starving to death, wasting away like some Ethiopian but in fact you are only ridding yourself of blubber. I feel so bad for some of you out there when I see how you struggle to live a normal life being so obese that I am going to give you a weekly eating regime. It isn't a fancy diet and you won't lose weight rapidly. It is a slow process and once you get thin then you remain so because you will continue to eat well. There will be no returning to 300+ and size 60 jeans.
Breakfast (Pick one): 1 cup Oatmeal, two hard boiled eggs, 1 bowl of cheerios and banana and skim milk.
Lunch (Pick one): Peanut butter sandwich on wheat bread and piece of fruit, plain yogurt, tuna sandwich on wheat bread and piece of fruit, plain yogurt
Dinner : Baked fish (Salmon, Cod, Tuna, etc.) with three vegetables, Plain chicken (not fried) with vegetables.
Now comes the hardest part...no eating after 6:00 pm. And I promise you all no matter who you are, if you are over weight, keeping to that regime is unbearable. I was once 225 pounds and followed the eating schedule above and I am now and have been for over a year 175 pounds. It does work and once you reach your target weight then you can throw in the pizza on friday night or the occasional fast food breakfast, but it can only be occasional. I personally don't eat fast food.
I feel sorry for the obese people of the world because I think it must be so difficult to live like that. I imagine they often feel uncomfortable and self-conscious, but at the same time it is almost offensive to see some gigantic person with their head in their plate going to town on a portion that could kill a normal person, and I wonder why they don't decide that enough is enough and it is time to take back their lives. It is time to say no to pork rinds and yes to broccoli. And with what we know about health today it begins with your diet. Of course you also need to exercise and twenty minutes of power walking around the neighborhood daily is perfect. And then you should try and get a fairly good nights sleep, especially during the weight losing period. It is all about discipline! That's all, it is not e=mc2.
A favorite time to talk about all the new diet fads, and secret dishes that you can eat and lose 20 pounds in a week without doing any remarkable exercise, is often while sitting in front of a television set shoveling a cheeseburger and french fries, a cherry pie, extra meat lovers pizza, krispy kreme donuts into your mouth while washing it all down with a soda pop or extra sweet tea. It is a study in the desperate illusion people have in contemporary society with losing weight and looking "good" while remotely varying an ordinarily awful diet. If you haven't noticed before, take a look around you at the lines at the fast food restaurants every morning while driving to work. You may even be one of the people waiting in the fast food line for an extra greasy egg biscuit with bacon and cheese, or the coffee loaded up with heavy cream and sugar. Then for a snack to keep you from clawing the walls until lunch time you eat candy stuffed in your desk, or a bag of chips or something unhealthy and high in salt from the vending machine along with a couple soda pops. Ah! Finally, lunch time rolls around and you roll on down to the nearby take out restaurant or fast food joint and load up on something with two whoppers with cheese, some ungodly fat count and what...4,000 mg of sodium, along with a large heavily sugared drink. Then you still have the last leg of your work day to get through. You munch on candy until it is finally time to go home for the day and while driving home you call in an order for a take out dish or you may just heat up a notoriously fattening frozen pizza or T.V. dinner. But this kind of behavior and eating habits are not a one time thing but a regular practice and you wonder why you have a double chin and drop dead of a massive heart attack at 45.
It isn't rocket science that healthy people are lean. And no it isn't about genetics. They work to stay that lean and fit. The secret to losing all that unwanted fat is eat healthy food, small portions and suffer through the agonizing pangs of hunger. You will feel as if you are starving to death, wasting away like some Ethiopian but in fact you are only ridding yourself of blubber. I feel so bad for some of you out there when I see how you struggle to live a normal life being so obese that I am going to give you a weekly eating regime. It isn't a fancy diet and you won't lose weight rapidly. It is a slow process and once you get thin then you remain so because you will continue to eat well. There will be no returning to 300+ and size 60 jeans.
Breakfast (Pick one): 1 cup Oatmeal, two hard boiled eggs, 1 bowl of cheerios and banana and skim milk.
Lunch (Pick one): Peanut butter sandwich on wheat bread and piece of fruit, plain yogurt, tuna sandwich on wheat bread and piece of fruit, plain yogurt
Dinner : Baked fish (Salmon, Cod, Tuna, etc.) with three vegetables, Plain chicken (not fried) with vegetables.
Now comes the hardest part...no eating after 6:00 pm. And I promise you all no matter who you are, if you are over weight, keeping to that regime is unbearable. I was once 225 pounds and followed the eating schedule above and I am now and have been for over a year 175 pounds. It does work and once you reach your target weight then you can throw in the pizza on friday night or the occasional fast food breakfast, but it can only be occasional. I personally don't eat fast food.
I feel sorry for the obese people of the world because I think it must be so difficult to live like that. I imagine they often feel uncomfortable and self-conscious, but at the same time it is almost offensive to see some gigantic person with their head in their plate going to town on a portion that could kill a normal person, and I wonder why they don't decide that enough is enough and it is time to take back their lives. It is time to say no to pork rinds and yes to broccoli. And with what we know about health today it begins with your diet. Of course you also need to exercise and twenty minutes of power walking around the neighborhood daily is perfect. And then you should try and get a fairly good nights sleep, especially during the weight losing period. It is all about discipline! That's all, it is not e=mc2.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
THE BIG DIVORCE
By Greg Evans
It must be the "in" thing to do because everybody is doing it. Jump on the band wagon, be cool, get single and hit those music festivals and be hip. And what's worse, parents who want to party and be accepted by the single promiscuous pot heads. The parent who wants to be far out and goes off the deep end and abandons the majority of their domestic responsibility. They spend all their free time on social media sights and traveling to music festivals, night clubs, bars, dinner with the "friends."A large portion of today's youth marry simply to be able to divorce so they can have the coveted "ex."
Nowadays anyone who is anyone has an "ex." It goes like this, "Hey man are you cool?"
"Yeah man, I'm cool,"
"No I mean, are you cool?"
"I'm cool, I'm righteous, I've got soul."
"I could tell you had an ex."
"I got my ex six months ago, snap, bang, I'm a lady ready to be crazy,"
"Right on, welcome to the beginning, party righteous, club iguana tonight, party every night of the weeks, ex's only."
There you go. That is the basic gist of it. To be cool you need to be a divorcee. Marriage takes work and in this hippy colony we call society it takes too much energy to have a marriage and a normal family life. Washing dishes, mowing the lawn, doing laundry, reading to the kids, playing with the kids, saying grace before dinner, eating dinner together at the table, going to the playground, etc. it's all too boring, too mundane, too unhip for the hipsters.
Divorce has been around forever but these days it is becoming as ordinary as ordering super sized french fries and double cheeseburger to help feed the other vices you may have along with night clubbing and promiscuous sex with whoever agrees that capitalism is a fungus. And surprisingly it is women who are initiating the majority of the divorces. Though both men and women can't handle the monogamy of marriage, the domesticity, the wonderful joys of playing quietly with the kids and enjoying the hard work of having a family. In Ancient Athens you had to submit a request to a magistrate who would then decide if your reasons were sufficient to be granted divorce. That right there would void nearly 97% of the divorces since 2000 - 2013.
Anyone who has ever been approached by their spouse who says, "I'm not happy because I'm not having enough fun," knows that any form of debate would probably be pointless because already their rationalization for breaking up a marriage and family to have fun is already having bizarre personal issues that would probably have landed the person in the hen house before 1998. In half the cafes and 3/4 of the bars in the country you can hear the nonsense of unhappy spouses telling some garbage about wanting to get out there and have fun, it's all about living to have fun and what fun is a marriage and kids anyway? If anyone thinks I'm the one who is crazy feel free to respond. But there is nothing that anyone could ever say to me that would make me change my mind.
It must be the "in" thing to do because everybody is doing it. Jump on the band wagon, be cool, get single and hit those music festivals and be hip. And what's worse, parents who want to party and be accepted by the single promiscuous pot heads. The parent who wants to be far out and goes off the deep end and abandons the majority of their domestic responsibility. They spend all their free time on social media sights and traveling to music festivals, night clubs, bars, dinner with the "friends."A large portion of today's youth marry simply to be able to divorce so they can have the coveted "ex."
Nowadays anyone who is anyone has an "ex." It goes like this, "Hey man are you cool?"
"Yeah man, I'm cool,"
"No I mean, are you cool?"
"I'm cool, I'm righteous, I've got soul."
"I could tell you had an ex."
"I got my ex six months ago, snap, bang, I'm a lady ready to be crazy,"
"Right on, welcome to the beginning, party righteous, club iguana tonight, party every night of the weeks, ex's only."
There you go. That is the basic gist of it. To be cool you need to be a divorcee. Marriage takes work and in this hippy colony we call society it takes too much energy to have a marriage and a normal family life. Washing dishes, mowing the lawn, doing laundry, reading to the kids, playing with the kids, saying grace before dinner, eating dinner together at the table, going to the playground, etc. it's all too boring, too mundane, too unhip for the hipsters.
Divorce has been around forever but these days it is becoming as ordinary as ordering super sized french fries and double cheeseburger to help feed the other vices you may have along with night clubbing and promiscuous sex with whoever agrees that capitalism is a fungus. And surprisingly it is women who are initiating the majority of the divorces. Though both men and women can't handle the monogamy of marriage, the domesticity, the wonderful joys of playing quietly with the kids and enjoying the hard work of having a family. In Ancient Athens you had to submit a request to a magistrate who would then decide if your reasons were sufficient to be granted divorce. That right there would void nearly 97% of the divorces since 2000 - 2013.
Anyone who has ever been approached by their spouse who says, "I'm not happy because I'm not having enough fun," knows that any form of debate would probably be pointless because already their rationalization for breaking up a marriage and family to have fun is already having bizarre personal issues that would probably have landed the person in the hen house before 1998. In half the cafes and 3/4 of the bars in the country you can hear the nonsense of unhappy spouses telling some garbage about wanting to get out there and have fun, it's all about living to have fun and what fun is a marriage and kids anyway? If anyone thinks I'm the one who is crazy feel free to respond. But there is nothing that anyone could ever say to me that would make me change my mind.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
IN SEARCH OF THE 50'S
By Greg Evans
When I was a kid growing up in the 1980's my mother used to say to us that she ran our home like it was the 1950's. "Life was more wholesome then." It was a term she would use often and whenever she was trying to explain to us why we couldn't watch T.V. during dinner, or why we had to go to church on Sunday or why we had to use manners at all times and why we had to be well groomed and well dressed when we left the house. She was always home we when got off from school, drove us to our sports practices and scout meetings and we always ate dinner together at the table always saying grace before beginning. Back then, as a kid, I really didn't fully understand what she was getting at. Today though, now that I have my own child and I am trying to raise her in a similar environment to the one I was raised in I completely understand her rational. In a society where people seem to be living haphazardly, carrying on like barbarians, treating each other horribly, no work ethic, accepting mediocrity, sex and foul language on every television show and movie it is no wonder society is having the problems it is.
And so I am influenced by my mother's wisdom far beyond her years, I am regularly now in search of the 50's kind of lifestyle and in the way children are raised because now a days they don't much seem they are raised much at all. Maybe if we halted the "progress," except for medicine, then we would be amazed at how society would begin to correct itself. We should do it at least for our children. Do our daughters to think it is OK for mothers to spend all their free time going out to bars and night clubs, socializing without restraint and not seeming to make much effort in the domesticity aspect of life. My life has been affected by such behavior first hand. And it truly affects the behavior of the children when they don't understand why they aren't being put first.
There are many aspects of today's world that just don't seem to be improving society and even if you run your own home properly the outside world can be damaging. Look for example at the cost of living today compared to how it was thirty to fifty years ago. I spoke with an old timer not long ago and he talked in depth about how the cost of living today was far higher then one could earn compared to the way it used to be where you could live off of what you earned. And to earn a bachelor's degree would provide you with many opportunities. All you needed back then was the will to work and a good reference. Today couldn't get you a job sweeping toilets in Grand Central Station. Today even with a PhD it can be difficult to find a job unless you have an immediate family member with influence. You'd be surprised how many people out there think they have clout in their company until they are asked to help out with job placement and they realized no one gives a damn about their opinion.
If only we could start turning the clock backwards (metaphorically) and find a way to become a wholesome society in the sense of bettering ourselves and the small little world immediate around us for the children if not for ourselves. I miss the life I knew when I was a child and it doesn't have to completely disappear.
When I was a kid growing up in the 1980's my mother used to say to us that she ran our home like it was the 1950's. "Life was more wholesome then." It was a term she would use often and whenever she was trying to explain to us why we couldn't watch T.V. during dinner, or why we had to go to church on Sunday or why we had to use manners at all times and why we had to be well groomed and well dressed when we left the house. She was always home we when got off from school, drove us to our sports practices and scout meetings and we always ate dinner together at the table always saying grace before beginning. Back then, as a kid, I really didn't fully understand what she was getting at. Today though, now that I have my own child and I am trying to raise her in a similar environment to the one I was raised in I completely understand her rational. In a society where people seem to be living haphazardly, carrying on like barbarians, treating each other horribly, no work ethic, accepting mediocrity, sex and foul language on every television show and movie it is no wonder society is having the problems it is.
And so I am influenced by my mother's wisdom far beyond her years, I am regularly now in search of the 50's kind of lifestyle and in the way children are raised because now a days they don't much seem they are raised much at all. Maybe if we halted the "progress," except for medicine, then we would be amazed at how society would begin to correct itself. We should do it at least for our children. Do our daughters to think it is OK for mothers to spend all their free time going out to bars and night clubs, socializing without restraint and not seeming to make much effort in the domesticity aspect of life. My life has been affected by such behavior first hand. And it truly affects the behavior of the children when they don't understand why they aren't being put first.
There are many aspects of today's world that just don't seem to be improving society and even if you run your own home properly the outside world can be damaging. Look for example at the cost of living today compared to how it was thirty to fifty years ago. I spoke with an old timer not long ago and he talked in depth about how the cost of living today was far higher then one could earn compared to the way it used to be where you could live off of what you earned. And to earn a bachelor's degree would provide you with many opportunities. All you needed back then was the will to work and a good reference. Today couldn't get you a job sweeping toilets in Grand Central Station. Today even with a PhD it can be difficult to find a job unless you have an immediate family member with influence. You'd be surprised how many people out there think they have clout in their company until they are asked to help out with job placement and they realized no one gives a damn about their opinion.
If only we could start turning the clock backwards (metaphorically) and find a way to become a wholesome society in the sense of bettering ourselves and the small little world immediate around us for the children if not for ourselves. I miss the life I knew when I was a child and it doesn't have to completely disappear.
Friday, July 5, 2013
LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE
By Greg Evans
I have never been in a car accident, not even a fender bender and I don't have to knock on wood despite the fact that I am very superstitious. The fact that I have never been in an accident is not because of luck or the Grace of God, even though I do have a strong relationship with God, it is because I don't trust anybody else on the road and I am extremely careful and aware of my surroundings while on the road at all times. I'd be an equally successful driver in Bolivia. I have very little patience for other people though I try to be as courteous as I can even though 98% of the time people don't show me the same courtesy. Though rarely a day goes by that I don't wish I was driving a tank convertible that I could casually roll my way to where I need to go, never having to worry about the unsychronized traffic lights or red lights that last four minutes, longer then Super Bowl commercials for heavens sake. One certainty we will always have is that the roads will always be filled with wretched sloppy drivers that should be shuttled to their jobs as Krispy Kreme donut tasters. Even if the world consisted of golf cart only communities like The Villages near Ocala, Florida, you'd have the bad golf cart etiquette and want to bash their taillights with a five iron. It annoys me just thinking about it. The people who argue against guns and try to pass laws against people driving with their guns are the same people who cut you off on the highway and then flip you the bird. Those freaks who then run to the poll and vote against guns so they can abuse the highways and the law abiding, courteous drivers who would think nothing of dragging you into the weeds and beating you to within an inch of your life. I know there are others out there like me. I have seen you on the roads and we share a nod of recognition. The gun owners out there, the God fearing gun owners are the safest drivers on the road and everyone of us are out of patience. We are tired of all the burnouts wrecking the road ways. Tired of it and all this has risen my blood pressure and I feel like I'm about to breakout in hives.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)