I never celebrate Easter. Since it’s supposed to be a religious holiday and I’m not in anyway religious, I choose not to celebrate. As a kid my Mother celebrated anything and everything remotely religious due to her strict Catholic upbringing and education. I had no choice in those days so I went along as best I could but only as far as partaking of the more secular side of things . . . chocolate. My Easter memories as a child are all about candy and eggs but not much religion.
My Father was a living and breathing agnostic who side stepped religious matters religiously but even he couldn’t side step all of the holidays. Another of my fondest memories of Easter was the year my parents bought my sister and I white rabbits. They were all cute and fluffy and I clearly remember trying to get one of those little buggers from beneath our old refrigerator on Easter morning. They eventually grew up to be rather large adult bunnies forcing my Dad to build a large hutch in the backyard to house them. There was always a stream of complaints from him about feeding the damn rabbits or cleaning out the damn cage etc. etc. etc. Who knew it would all end in murder.
One lovely summer day we returned home from playing with some of the neighborhood kids just in time for supper. We were seated at the table ready to dig in when I found out just how much my Dad really didn’t like those rabbits. He had dispatched the little darlings earlier in the day and they were placed on the table as the entree. Needless to say my Mother, Sister, and I fled the scene with my Father left sitting there with a puzzled look on his face. He just didn’t get it at all.
I still don’t celebrate Easter and I never eat rabbits under any circumstances. It’s creeps me out to this day.
Have you ever had a really long term close personal friend? They’re a rare gift and in most cases are never really appreciated until their gone. My best friend was named Dick and he passed away approximately 15 years ago. He is partially responsible for another of my crazier Easter memories from our childhood. I’ve written in the past about the 1955 Birdville Elementary School Easter Egg Hunt fire. It’s a really funny story that I may repost again in it’s entirety on another day. Let it be said that Dick and I traumatized the Easter memories of a entire elementary school that year. A small lit cigarette turned into a raging inferno that burnt down a two acre field next to the school where the teachers and parents had hidden all of the Easter eggs. The field was burned, the eggs were cooked, and so were we. We paid a really heavy price for just a few minutes of stupid.
So now you understand my hesitation to celebrate even the silly secular side of this holiday. I hope you all enjoy your Eater celebration with your family and friends in whatever manner you choose to celebrate it. For me it’s just another fun day here in paradise. Pass the chocolate please.
I can’t even begin to remember just how many times over the years I’ve taken attorneys, the ACLU, and the court systems to task. I feel I’m as qualified as anyone to bitch and complain about the system because of my long career of working with hundreds of attorneys, judges,and a host of criminal and civil defendants. Everyday that goes by we hear strange stories about how screwed up things have become with the courts and unfortunately the weirder the story the more likely it is to be true.
I received the following information from a friend who is a retired law enforcement individual with more years of experience than anyone I know. I pass it along for your amusement and with a great deal of sympathy for us all.
THE STELLA AWARDS
It’s time again for the annual ‘Stella Awards’! For those unfamiliar with these awards, they are named after 81-year-old Stella Liebeck who spilled hot coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonald’s in New Mexico , where she purchased coffee. You remember, she took the lid off the coffee and put it between her knees while she was driving. Who would ever think one could get burned doing that, right? That’s right; these are awards for the most outlandish lawsuits and verdicts in the U.S. You know, the kinds of cases that make you scratch your head.
Here are the Stella’s for year — 2013:
* SEVENTH PLACE *
Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas was awarded $80,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The store owners were understandably surprised by the verdict , considering the running toddler was her own son
* SIXTH PLACE *
Carl Truman, 19, of Los Angeles , California won $74,000 plus medical expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Truman apparently didn’t notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal his neighbor’s hubcaps .
* FIFTH PLACE *
Terrence Dickson, of Bristol , Pennsylvania , who was leaving a house he had just burglarized by way of the garage. Unfortunately for Dickson, the automatic garage door opener malfunctioned and he could not get the garage door to open. Worse, he couldn’t re-enter the house because the door connecting the garage to the house locked when Dickson pulled it shut. Forced to sit for eight, count ’em, EIGHT days and survive on a case of Pepsi and a large bag of dry dog food, he sued the homeowner’s insurance company claiming undue mental Anguish. Amazingly, the jury said the insurance company must pay Dickson $500,000 for his anguish.
* FOURTH PLACE *
Jerry Williams, of Little Rock, Arkansas, garnered 4th Place in the Stella’s when he was awarded $14,500 plus medical expenses after being bitten on the butt by his next door neighbor’s beagle – even though the beagle was on a chain in its owner’s fenced yard. Williams did not get as much as he asked for because the jury believed the beagle might have been provoked at the time of the butt bite because Williams had climbed over the fence into the yard and repeatedly shot the dog with a pellet gun .
* THIRD PLACE *
Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania because a jury ordered a Philadelphia restaurant to pay her $113,500 after she slipped on a spilled soft drink and broke her tailbone. The reason the soft drink was on the floor: Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier during an argument .
*SECOND PLACE *
Kara Walton, of Claymont , Delaware sued the owner of a night club in a nearby city because she fell from the bathroom window to the floor, knocking out her two front teeth. Even though Ms. Walton was trying to sneak through the ladies room window to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge, the jury said the night club had to pay her $12,000 plus dental expenses.
And last but certainly not least:
* FIRST PLACE *
This year’s runaway First Place Stella Award winner was: Mrs. Merv Grazinski, of Oklahoma City , Oklahoma , who purchased new 32-foot Winnebago motor home. On her first trip home, from an OU football game, having driven on to the freeway, she set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the driver’s seat to go to the back of the Winnebago to make herself a sandwich. Not surprisingly, the motor home left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Also not surprisingly, Mrs. Grazinski sued Winnebago for not putting in the owner’s manual that she couldn’t actually leave the driver’s seat while the cruise control was set.
The Oklahoma jury awarded her $1,750,000 and a new motor home. Winnebago actually changed their operator’s manuals as a result of this suit.
I could continue telling these kind of stories for hours but the point has already been made. Sue anyone for anything at anytime regardless of the circumstances. Welcome to the “Land of the Free” and the home of the “Incredibly Stupid”.
In my last posting I was whining a little about not having much beach time here in good old tropical Maine. Being the bonehead I am and living with my boneheaded better-half we decided not to wait any longer to hit the beach. The snow had just melted and we were ready.
After a visit to one of our favorite watering-holes and after toasting a few glasses of cheer we made a bee line for the nearest beach. You need to understand that the temperature was in the forties with a twenty mile an hour wind making it feel like twenty degrees. Alcohol can do a lot of things but it doesn’t help a person stay warm and toasty on a windy beach in Maine in April. I was freezing my ass off almost immediately after leaving the car but the better-half was off to the races running around the beach like a German Shepard chasing a stick. We both were snapping pictures the entire time but that ended rather quickly.
It was then I spotted a herd of totally insane people running free and unfettered among us normal and sane folk. The waves were roaring in and these fools in their wonderfully uncool wet suits were trying to surf in water that was only just above freezing.. Surfing in Maine in April is like running naked through a nudist colony in February. It’s just nuts. I watched them for a while but was forced to return to my car so I could once again feel my fingers.
“Out of His Ever Loving Mind”
The better-half finally returned of her own volition all excited and happy about the entire evening. She coerced me into driving another few miles up the coast to our favorite beach. It hadn’t gotten any warmer and I argued loudly about getting out of the car at all. As usual she strong-armed me out of the car and down to the water. There we were once again watching another insane human being wind surfing like he was in Key West and it was August. Here are a couple of shots I took of that young idiot. I’ve been known to don a wet suit to frolic in semi-warm water occasionally but no matter what people tell you . . . . it’s still freaking cold with that suit on.
“Just Nuts”
We made our way home, turned up the heat, and discussed what mental illness could be responsible for such bizarre behavior, both ours and the surfers. We never figured it out but we really didn’t care anyway. We snuggled into our bed under our wonderfully warm and overused electric blanket that’s become the best thing about these Maine winters.
Well, after five months the snow is finally gone. Unfortunately the post-winter cleanup can now begin. All of the snow and ice storms certainly did their share of damage to the property this year. One tree down, serious plant damage everywhere, and additional damage from the town’s snowplow.
It seems we’re required to replace our mailbox almost every year and it’s starting to really piss me off. A nearby friend made the mistake of complaining to the town about the recklessness of their drivers and seeming lack of concern for all the damage they’ve been causing. It took forever to find the right person to complain to and five minutes for that person to say quite simply, “move it a little further back from the road”. It’s nice to know we have a freaking genius working for the road department.
I don’t understand why me and my hundreds of neighbors didn’t think of that dumb ass solution. I may be forced to build a giant brick column with my mailbox sitting on top. We’ll see how much the town likes replacing a blade or two on their gigantic and expensive snowplows after trying to knock down my brick megalith. I’ll just politely tell them to “plow a little further from my effing mailbox”.
All of my winter projects have been successfully completed and right on schedule for a change. In another two weeks I’ll be able to begin my outside work setting up the garden and getting the mowers and weed-whackers operational. Finally a steady supply of fresh air and sunshine after almost five and a half months locked inside the house.
I’m also looking forward to some beach time in the near future as well. This was the first winter in a long time that the snow cover stayed almost all winter which meant no long wintery walks on the beach.
Since my leg has healed completely and I’m back on my workout routines maybe I can get that last ten pounds of ugly fat to disappear. I’ve lost 35 lbs so far through a difficult winter with a minimum of outside activity. I’m planning a very active schedule this summer with my camera and I traveling around this gorgeous state of ours. One short trip to Texas in May and then I’ll have the rest of the summer to take pictures, work in the garden, and to sit on my deck and relax.
Goodbye and good riddance to Winter.
I consistently ask myself questions about the things I see. It’s not that I’m seeing these things that bothers me, it’s that I don’t entirely understand what I’m seeing. One of the things that confuses me the most are the situations I see developing these days between people and their cell phones.
I’ll try to explain clearly where I’m coming from in order to keep any confusion to a minimum. After being held hostage by Verizon Wireless for the last seven years I made the bold move of dumping their service and stepping back three or four technological paces to something far simpler and inexpensive. I won’t get into the particulars except to say I’ve cut my monthly costs by 70%. I don’t want you to think I hate cell phones because I don’t. What I do hate is the unhealthy hold those devices seem to have on such a large portion of our population.
Next, I need to state emphatically my total and complete support for both heterosexual and homosexual marriages. No, my mind isn’t wandering but hang in there a moment or two until I explain. I object strongly to the new wave of intimate relationships I’m observing between humans and cellphones. It’s becoming a little embarrassing to see these phones being cuddled and stroked by both men and women in public places. It’s a bit disgusting.
People buying their phones cutesy little bejeweled outfits in a variety of colored covers to keep things from getting too boring. Even the kids are getting into the act with little or no parental oversight. Sitting along in their rooms at night talking quietly on the phone, roaming the Internet until all hours of the morning, and posting "selfies" to the world that would in some cases make a porn star blush.
Those phones are coddled and babied and remain all snuggly in a pocket or purse held tightly next to the heart (or other body parts) of their owners. I know many women and even a few men who would like nothing better than to have a large device vibrating in their pocket. People just can’t seem to keep their hands off their phones and don’t even try. What’s next? The formation of political special interest groups to promote our freedom to marry our cellphones? Don’t laugh, as weird as things are these days, it could happen.
Cell phone ownership is becoming almost as intimate as a marriage. First you need to find that “soulmate” or should I say “cell-mate”. It must be attractive and shapely and have all of those attributes you’re looking for. Once you’ve found that perfect match then your required to enter into a contract for a two year period. Very similar to a marriage license if you ask me but with one additional advantage. When your cell-mate gets a little older, all scratched up, and the battery starts to fail you can dump it and sign up for an upgrade. If you dare decide to end the relationship before the contract is up your forced to pay and pay dearly for that right. Sounds just like a divorce I managed to survive twenty years ago.
I guess I just haven’t met my true "cell-mate" yet. I suppose it will happen all of a sudden like a lightning bolt and I’ll be lost forever in that wonderful haze of first love, sexting something juicy for the first time, or sending an HD photo of some of my body parts to people who don’t want to see them.
You just gotta love those cell-phones. Right Lovey.
Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away, I was one of those weird folks who loved to paint. Not artsy painting but bathrooms, bedrooms, and living rooms. For years I was on call for my entire family or anyone else who needed something painted. I never understood my fascination, I just went with it. I suppose today is as good a day as any to let the world know that that my love of painting is dead. DEAD I tell you!
Dumb Thing #1. I started a house project a few weeks ago that required I remove a rather large window from the living room and to put a blank wall in it’s place. It was all my idea in the initial planning stages but somewhere along the way it was hijacked by my better-half and turned into a freaking monster. The removal of the window was easy enough but doing it in March in Maine was a stupid plan. I had the entire house open to the cold weather for three hours until I could replace joists, put in insulation, and attached some vapor barriers.
Dumb Thing #2. I should have seen through her sneaky plan but it was winter, I was fat and lazy, and I said OK to almost anything she wanted. I thought I could zone her out just a little making me safe from her infamous To-Do list until warmer weather arrived.
Dumb Thing #3. The next thing I know I’m up to my ass in drywall, joint compound, and and breathing a dense cloud of gypsum dust. That shit gets into everything and one of my jobs was to make the big mess, complete the job, and then clean it all up. I finished the wall except for painting and sat down for a moment to rest and to cough up a few pounds of white dust. Five minutes later she arrives from Lowe’s with five gallons of assorted paints, brushes, drop cloths, rollers, and sparkle compound. I was quietly informed that now we (Me) had to repaint the entire living room and adjacent hallways. She was sick of the old color and since I’d removed that damn window it was only logical to redo the entire second floor.
Dumb Thing #4. I’m now in my third day of spackling, primering, painting, and putting masking tape on anything that doesn’t move. Help me please. I’m being held prisoner by a home improvement lunatic and I can’t seem to escape.
Look! It’s A-Hole.
Well, I’m finally back. I have to confess I was surprised just how much I missed my daily blogging. My other project progressed more in this short eight weeks than I was able to accomplish in the previous year, making my time away well spent.
My life continues as before but things never seem to stop changing. My better-half continues to drive me crazy, the cat still annoys me at times, and the grandson is just minutes away from talking. I suspect after watching him closely for all these months that once he starts talking he won’t be able to stop and I can’t wait. I consider it quite a privilege and one I intend to make the most of.
I’ve been trying to decide what I should write about on my return. I thought I should probably fall back to my cynical roots and supply you with a selection of quotations unlike any you may have seen before. Normally quotes are meant to be uplifting and to give us faith in the past and hope for the future. These do not. These quotes celebrate the sarcastic, the glib, and the smart asses of world. Enjoy . . .
“You can tell a Harvard man, but you can’t tell him much.” Anonymous
“There is nothing wrong with Hollywood that six first-class funerals wouldn’t solve.” Anonymous
“Religion is excellent stuff for keeping the common people quite.” Napoleon Bonaparte
“He is the kind of politician who would cut down the redwood tree, then mount the stump for a conservation speech.” Adlai Stevenson
“On being asked to describe Hollywood – Can a fish describe the murky water in which it swims?” Albert Einstein
“After coming in contact with a religious man I always feel that I must wash my hands.” Frederick Nietzsche, "The Antichrist" (1888)
“This is a back-stabbing, scum sucking, small minded town.” Roseanne Arnold "Hollywood Reporter" (1990)
About: Elvis Costello born 1955
“Looks like Buddy Holly after drinking a can of STP Oil Treatment.” Dave Marsh, "Rolling Stone Magazine"
About: Marie Osmond born 1959
“She is so pure, Moses couldn’t even part her knees.” Joan Rivers
“I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.” May West
“Not only is there no God, try getting a plumber on weekends.” Woody Allen
“You don’t have to think too hard when you talk to a teacher.” JD Salinger
I’ve heard these kind of quotes called any number of things including poisonous, mean, or nasty. I’ve come up with my own term: A-holeistic. My cynical self has returned to the blog and I’m feeling just fine.
Sporadic blogging will continue.
I need to alert everyone that as of today posting to this blog will be temporarily inactive. Due to certain personal projects I’ll be unavailable to blog daily for the next two months. I’ll touch base weekly to collect and respond to comments and emails but little else. This will my first time leaving my blog on it’s own and I feel like I’m abandoning my only child to the vicious outside world.
I hope to return sooner than the two months but only time will tell. Thanks to those of you who follow this blog and the others who visit so often. Your visits and comments were always appreciated. I hope to return as soon as possible.
cli·ché
/kliˈʃeɪ, klɪ-/ [klee-shey, kli-] noun
1.a trite, stereotyped expression; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and impact by long overuse, as sadder but wiser, or strong as an ox.
2.(in art, literature, drama, etc.) a trite or hackneyed plot, character development, use of color, musical expression, etc.
3.anything that has become trite or commonplace through overuse.
4.British Printing.
a. a stereotype or electrotype plate.
b. a reproduction made in a like manner.
adjective
5.trite; hackneyed; stereotyped; clichéd.
The word cliché comes from two origins:
- A sound – The French used the word to describe the sound that a matrix, or a mold with letters on it, made when it was being dropped into molten metal to make a printing plate.
- A printing plate – Oddly enough, the printing plate itself was called a cliché or a stereotype and it was one of the first movable types in the world.
* * *
I like to stay ahead of the game and to be all things to all men but that’s easier said than done at times. I always try to hammer out things, leave no stone unturned, to give you a leg up on events and to dish the dirt religiously.
I love to punch the clock, push the envelope, and push people’s buttons whenever possible. I may pull someone’s leg but I’ll never pull any punches or leave you in the lurch. I’m the master of the left-handed compliment and I’ll do my level best to harp on a point and let the chips fall where they may.
I probably should quit while I’m ahead but I so enjoy pulling the rug out from under people who need it. I’ll let the cat out of the bag in a New York minute because it’s all in a day’s work here at Every Useless Thing.
I’ve seen the handwriting on the wall while pounding this Internet pavement and while I operate tongue-in-cheek I’ll touch all the bases, tilt at the appropriate windmills and draw a bead on whoever tickles my fancy.
I try to fair and balanced but sometimes it’s a tough row to hoe. It goes without saying that the Internet can be all things to all men but many people love playing fast and loose with the truth. It occasionally causes me to throw caution to the wind, find the liars and throw them under the bus.
With this posting I’m trying to determine if I could on a good day use clichés to make small talk and supply you with food for thought. Most days I operate off the top of my head scrounging around for nuggets of information to help me let off a little steam. To make a long story short, I’ll never hold my tongue. I’ll continue to call a spade a spade especially when I’m on the warpath about something. Don’t believe everything I say hook, line and sinker but if the shoe fits, wear it.
IT’S ALL IN A DAY’S WORK!
On any given day I enjoy relaxing. It’s taken me a lot of years to learn how to relax after spending my working life as a six day a week workaholic. Even as a high stress workaholic I was able to relax but it was just as hard to make time for that as the job itself. I knew when the job and my bosses needed to be ignored and occasionally paid a price for doing just that. I was also ridiculed at times by my workaholic co-workers but I knew where my limits were and tried never to exceed them. Disconnecting from the everyday grind for me was the path to good mental health. I’ve always used the light-switch analogy and have advised more people than I can remember to go home at the end of the day, turn off the work light-switch and just relax.
I watched for years as retail management pushed associates into completing long lists of tasks and if they weren’t accomplished correctly the associates were then criticized for their lack of customer service skills. It was a vicious cycle that produced “task oriented” people in large numbers with a terrible customer service (people) attitude. Associates became brainwashed and unable to feel good about themselves unless their long list of tasks had been completed at work and at home.
“Stop, smell the flowers, and relax.”
I’ve been personality tested by my employers on many occasions. I’m was always considered an “A” type personality who was a great multitasker, knew how to accomplish the goals set by the corporation and to “get the job done”. Little did they know that doing their tasks was the easy part of my day but getting their tasks done quickly and making time for myself was even more difficult. It was a full time job trying to survive my full time job. I was always successful in the job but when I had down time I used it. When I was relaxing I put tasking out of my mind completely and that skill helped maintain my somewhat healthy outlook on things.
I’m now retired but I live with someone who is totally task oriented. She works a full time retail job and she has a difficult time relaxing when she gets home. She feels like her day is a total failure without a long and completed “To Do” list. I’ve been trying desperately for years to get her to turn off that “light switch” when she gets home but have only been moderately successful. I’m nothing if not persistent but she can be just as hard headed as I am. It’s a battle I’ll keep fighting because it needs to be fought.
While personality tests and reading about personality types has been regarded by some as self-indulgent navel gazing, there is a real value that comes from identifying our natural tendencies. Every personality has strengths and weaknesses, and understanding what yours are allows you take advantage of those strengths to overcome the weaknesses.
I was surfing around the Net yesterday and discovered the following list of suggestions to assist those task oriented individuals in their attempts to relax. Balance in life is more important than most people think but many people talk about reaching a balance but never actually try to accomplish it.
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Schedule time to focus on the people around you and commit to setting aside your To-Do list during that time.
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Consciously make eye contact when your husband, partner, or children speak to you so that they have your full attention. Be attentive and focused.
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Go anywhere where you can just enjoy being with your family without the distraction of things that need to be done.
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Look for opportunities to get things done in smaller chunks rather than saving them all up to do at once.
I take and make time to do absolutely nothing. Some people call it meditation and others (task oriented people) call it loafing. Regardless of the name it’s total down time where the mind can rest as well as the body. Just a few minutes a day seems to work for me. I admit I have my work cut out for me with my better-half but I refuse to give up the fight.
RELAX DEAR!
everyuselessthing.com 