2018 was a wild year...but 2019 was just a hot mess.
The political spectrum has certainly taken front stage this year, with a shutdown continuing from before Christmas all the way up to late January...and the purpose was apparently to get funding for a border wall. This wall as of now has less than 100 miles constructed. The new Congress convened with a democratic majority, and it has been one circus sideshow after another. First, we had the Mueller report, an investigation that many thought would directlly implicate Donald Trump in wrongdoing in the 2016 election. In reality, it just created more questions and more doubt, with Mueller himself saying cryptic Yoda-like statements like "MMMMM, a crime committed may have happened. Commit, I cannot."
From there, we had a bizarre reincarnation in a way of the Watergate break-in with 2 bumbling crooks working for Rudy Giuliani in some apparent extortion attempt upon the Ukraine. From there, it escalated into our current impeachment against Donald Trump. I pledged months ago to keep my political opinions private and I continue that pledge. That said, I know that Trump says a lot of stupid shit on Twitter and at his rallies. With the former, he's emptying his head garbage for his fans, and with the latter, he's doing it in person. As yet I have seen nothing that proves the guilt of Trump beyond a shadow of a doubt. In the case of Congress, I want to believe they believe in what they are doing for the PEOPLE and not political benefit...the 2 are usually mutually exclusive.
In the world of celebrity losses, we had quite a few: James Ingram, Toni Morrison, Doris Day, Robert Forster, our own Chewbacca, Peter Mayhew, Peggy Lipton, Carol Channing, Tim COnway, Rip Torn, Ross Perot, Luke Perry, Lee Iacocca, Dihann Carroll, Valerie Harper, Georgia Engel, Peter Tork, Leon Redbone, Jan Michael Vincent, Albert Finney, Gloria Vanderbilt, Peter Fonda, Sid Haig, Eddie Money, Beth Chapman, Rip Taylor, Dr. John, Rene Auberjonois, Caroll Spinney, Ron Leibman, and Danny Aiello, just to name a wide sample.
Violence certainly took front stage this year in the form of mass shootings and family violence. It is a strange country we live in, where funding gun rights is more important than funding mental health. That is not a statement against gun owners, for the ones I know are responsible people. As I look around at the closings of stores and shrinking of restaurant eating space, I see at least part of the problem: social isolation. The more people are away from other people, especially strangers, some strange thoughts can happen. When you don't have an authentic person to communicate with, unauthentic texts and information can easily replace that, creating a dangerous patsy on behalf of an invisible cult leader.
In my world, I spent the last year teaching first grade, then there was an uncertain summer where I did not know what I was going to be doing. Two weeks before the year began, I learned that I was doing 5th grade. As the year began, I also had a medical procedure to worry about in terms of kidney stone removal. Once that (non) ordeal was done, we got ourselves a 2-day old rescue kitten, for whom we sacrificed sleep for almost the entire month of October. At the end of November, I turned 47. It is a strange age to be and I had trouble figuring out why for a bit. Then I remembered that my parents became grandparents when they were 47. Still, I think I am at a midlife....puzzle, not a crisis. A crisis is an emergency situation. A puzzle allows time to think before acting, and I intend to do something unlike myself and THINK things out before I speak or act...likely it will save me trouble.
What will 2020 bring? Who knows besides Olympics and an election? For our nation, I hope some stress relief and release without personal harm. For my daughter, I hope middle school in the flal will bring her joyous adventures. For me, I hope to begin a new phase of life, enjoy more time with Vickie, spend less time on social media and more time eating right and exercising more. I also hope for some travle this summer. We did none in 2019 and I think it affected me when the school year began.
Happy 2020!
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Sunday, December 29, 2019
The Mogul
This morning as I drank my coffee and scoured social media for the latest in political skullduggery, friends' pics from the hockey game, and classic Far Side comics, I came upon something so hideous, so evil...it really gave me a full body shiver. I just couldn't believe that society could stoop so low as to even give this idea any real thought past a Taco Bell shart. You guessed it, someone wants to create a BRADY BUNCH REVIVAL!
I know, I know, it is an absolutely demonic idea, almost to the depths of "Cop Rock" 30 years ago. If you want the Bradys ,there are TV channels, streaming services, and DVDs that give you all the Brady Bunch your sap tooth can handle. And if you really look hard, you can find their later incantations of "Brady Kids", "Brady Bunch Variety Hour", "Brady Brides", "A Very Brady Christmas", "The Bradys", and the recent home renovation of the house that served as the outer facade to make the inside look like the set they once cavorted in.
My question then is, who the hell wants to revive it? Is it a Gen Xer like myself who so loved the Brady family growing up? Is it a Schwartz heir who wants to do their patriarch Sherwood Schwartz honor by recreating his classic monster? Is it a diabolical science fair project designed to test the limits of withholding vomit?
I suspect it is none of these categories. No, I believe there is a more evil presence lurking about, a millenial "genius" that believes it can take an old idea and give it a modern spin. No, the modern spin doesn't mean exhuming bodies of the dead actors and pumping life back into them (though seeing a zombie Robert Reed would be fun). It doesn't merely mean recasting with a whole new set of fun-loving kids playing football in the astroturf back yard. No, these kids will have a whole new set of weekly problems: Jan wishing she were a boy and pondering a sex change, Peter and Bobby feuding over who is the best Fortnight player, Carol's secret affair with Alice, Greg suspended over being a bully, and Cindy's angst and despair over her lisp despite her therapist's best efforts. Mike, well, he's an architect still, but now designing evil fast food micro-restaurants (so HE'S the one!).
I truly believe the one behind all this is the classic "entertainment mogul", the one who sits in an office and has to listen to ideas part of the day and comes up with a few of their own monsters here and there, resting on the "casting couch" during lunch, if you get my drift. I have a feeling an average day for the mogul goes like this.
Mogul: All right, Johnson, lets hear the ideas..
Johnson: Before the Taco Bell sharts hit? Well, sir-
Mogul: Did you just assume my gender?
Johnson: You used the men's room, so yeah.
Mogul: Oh. Did you just assume my diet?
Johnson: The wrapper is still on your desk.
Mogul: Oh. Er...um...proceed.
Johnson: Yes sir. First, we have a script for a spy film. The writers want Lady Gaga as the star.
Mogul: Does she sing in it?
Johnson: Of course! It would be filmdom's first singing spy.
Mogul: Please don't say filmdom. All right, send it over. Next.
Johnson: We have a script here chronicling the creation of Bananarama, but it is set during the Spanish-American War.
Mogul: An 80s British girl band forming before they were born? Who the hell thought that up?
Johnson: You did, sir.
Mogul: Oh...margarita night, I remember. Toss it. Next?
Johnson: Well, we have the career revamping pile for the week.
Mogul: Huh?
Johnson: You know, when the cast from a long-since-ended hit TV show can't make it past that and want to "come home".
Mogul: Oh crap, is David Schwimmer whining again?
Johnson: Always, sir. He still thinks "Friends" has 20 years worth of Ross and Rachel worth telling.
Mogul: My colon has 20 years worth of McNuggets, doesn't make them worth reliving.
Johnson : Speaking of deep-fried mystery meat, that millenial kid Evan had some idea about the Bradys.
Mogul: Yeah?
Johnson: He wants a whole new version, new cast, new plotlines, the works.
Mogul: Aren't we supposed to go for "new and different"?
Johnson: Overrated, sir, at least until the Gaga spy numbers are in.
Mogul: Splendid. Anything else?
Johnson: Well, there are a lot of holes in the schedule in the schedule on Saturday night.
Mogul:On which network?
Johnson: All of them. Ratings are down everywhere and most of the fall schedule has been canceled.
Mogul: Wait, I have an idea. Let's take a current sports star like LeBron James and give him his own TV special. We'll toss in some bands like Imagine Dragons and the Rolling Stones, and even give Schwimmer and another has-been a skit or 2.
Johnson: How 1970s of you, sir.
So you can see just how troubled the TV and movie industry are in. Judging from the number of crap previews I had to endure before The Rise of Skywalker began, it's not getting any better. Until things get better..."Here's the story of a lovely person, who was bringing up 3 very lovely people...." Time to shart!
I know, I know, it is an absolutely demonic idea, almost to the depths of "Cop Rock" 30 years ago. If you want the Bradys ,there are TV channels, streaming services, and DVDs that give you all the Brady Bunch your sap tooth can handle. And if you really look hard, you can find their later incantations of "Brady Kids", "Brady Bunch Variety Hour", "Brady Brides", "A Very Brady Christmas", "The Bradys", and the recent home renovation of the house that served as the outer facade to make the inside look like the set they once cavorted in.
My question then is, who the hell wants to revive it? Is it a Gen Xer like myself who so loved the Brady family growing up? Is it a Schwartz heir who wants to do their patriarch Sherwood Schwartz honor by recreating his classic monster? Is it a diabolical science fair project designed to test the limits of withholding vomit?
I suspect it is none of these categories. No, I believe there is a more evil presence lurking about, a millenial "genius" that believes it can take an old idea and give it a modern spin. No, the modern spin doesn't mean exhuming bodies of the dead actors and pumping life back into them (though seeing a zombie Robert Reed would be fun). It doesn't merely mean recasting with a whole new set of fun-loving kids playing football in the astroturf back yard. No, these kids will have a whole new set of weekly problems: Jan wishing she were a boy and pondering a sex change, Peter and Bobby feuding over who is the best Fortnight player, Carol's secret affair with Alice, Greg suspended over being a bully, and Cindy's angst and despair over her lisp despite her therapist's best efforts. Mike, well, he's an architect still, but now designing evil fast food micro-restaurants (so HE'S the one!).
I truly believe the one behind all this is the classic "entertainment mogul", the one who sits in an office and has to listen to ideas part of the day and comes up with a few of their own monsters here and there, resting on the "casting couch" during lunch, if you get my drift. I have a feeling an average day for the mogul goes like this.
Mogul: All right, Johnson, lets hear the ideas..
Johnson: Before the Taco Bell sharts hit? Well, sir-
Mogul: Did you just assume my gender?
Johnson: You used the men's room, so yeah.
Mogul: Oh. Did you just assume my diet?
Johnson: The wrapper is still on your desk.
Mogul: Oh. Er...um...proceed.
Johnson: Yes sir. First, we have a script for a spy film. The writers want Lady Gaga as the star.
Mogul: Does she sing in it?
Johnson: Of course! It would be filmdom's first singing spy.
Mogul: Please don't say filmdom. All right, send it over. Next.
Johnson: We have a script here chronicling the creation of Bananarama, but it is set during the Spanish-American War.
Mogul: An 80s British girl band forming before they were born? Who the hell thought that up?
Johnson: You did, sir.
Mogul: Oh...margarita night, I remember. Toss it. Next?
Johnson: Well, we have the career revamping pile for the week.
Mogul: Huh?
Johnson: You know, when the cast from a long-since-ended hit TV show can't make it past that and want to "come home".
Mogul: Oh crap, is David Schwimmer whining again?
Johnson: Always, sir. He still thinks "Friends" has 20 years worth of Ross and Rachel worth telling.
Mogul: My colon has 20 years worth of McNuggets, doesn't make them worth reliving.
Johnson : Speaking of deep-fried mystery meat, that millenial kid Evan had some idea about the Bradys.
Mogul: Yeah?
Johnson: He wants a whole new version, new cast, new plotlines, the works.
Mogul: Aren't we supposed to go for "new and different"?
Johnson: Overrated, sir, at least until the Gaga spy numbers are in.
Mogul: Splendid. Anything else?
Johnson: Well, there are a lot of holes in the schedule in the schedule on Saturday night.
Mogul:On which network?
Johnson: All of them. Ratings are down everywhere and most of the fall schedule has been canceled.
Mogul: Wait, I have an idea. Let's take a current sports star like LeBron James and give him his own TV special. We'll toss in some bands like Imagine Dragons and the Rolling Stones, and even give Schwimmer and another has-been a skit or 2.
Johnson: How 1970s of you, sir.
So you can see just how troubled the TV and movie industry are in. Judging from the number of crap previews I had to endure before The Rise of Skywalker began, it's not getting any better. Until things get better..."Here's the story of a lovely person, who was bringing up 3 very lovely people...." Time to shart!
Friday, December 27, 2019
Taking a Ratchet to the Future
I swear, this is the year of belts. Recently, I was given a belt for my birthday. This belt came with a dire warning to NOT punch new holes while wearing it. While this warning was quite unnecessary as I have enough pains without trying, I decided instead to let someone else try it on so I could make the new holes that way. The divorce papers are on their way. No, just kidding. I instead punched several holes in the warning paper as a sacrifice to some pagan god of waste.
On Christmas Day, I received another belt. This one has a new gimmick, where you cut off the extra length you will never need (at least until the end of January when the diet resolution has long since failed), you just put it into the buckle where a demonic ratchet system pulls it through without the holes. Quite a nice system, acutally.
That noted, I must wonder about the "new ingenuity" we face in this day and age and weight. Let us take the belt, for example. For over 40 years, I've seen only belts with the insert-rod-in-hole system (er...yeah...you know what I meant!).Suddenly after decades of the same system, we have something new? Was it necessary? Are they making money off of it? Tune in tomorrow, same bat time, same bat-
Sorry, got carried away there. Yet, I look at this not-so-new century (but fairly new millenium) and see so many changes to what I considered to be an established status quo.
Take fast food restaurants, for example. Back in the day when I ran 9 miles in the snow before school started because my Atari was broken, every fast food restaurant was a well-sized building with huge imaginative logos and large dining rooms. In recent years, these buildings have been put in the dryer and reduced by several sizes into uglified somewhat 3D edifices of right angles, their logos reduced to symbols and their questionable good food reduced to aa pop culture joke.
Then there is American history. Growing up in the 1970s and 80s and just now maturing at almost 2020, I learned a great deal of American history and what the good and the bad were in terms of events and people. Now, people want to rewrite, or in some cases ERASE, history to create something that is, and was, not real. Why? There is a growing sense of "political correctness" (which is a dumb name because I have never seen or met a correct politician) that seeks to offend as few people as possible. Well, folks, as long as there is a human race, people will be offended. Sometimes it is good, other times it is a wrong choice, and still other times it cannot be helped because you just can't tell when someone will be offended.
Then there is gender identification. Now, I will be the first to admit that the idea of homosexuality was a joke to me when I was a teen. It was a joke because I couldn't identify with it. As I got older, I understood it was a thing that existed and it was around me, especially in my California era (1992-2002, RIP). I came to know some homosexual people through school, work, and even in people I had known for years who had identified themselves as gay, lesbian, what have you.Now it has gone beyond the sexual component to an emotional identification. For thousands, even millions, of years, there have been two physical genders in the animal kingdom. Now, within the past 20 years, there has been an explosion of "new" genders. Not physical ones, but mental ones. I have seen some lists of these genders put out by the LGBTQ and whatever letters they have added since. Some seem unique, others seem to blend into one another. It's quite confusing to me, and I suspect it is confusing for the ones who go through those crises themselves. I could go on, but it is a complex topic. I will end this section by saying I respect all people to the best of my ability, but do not respect the demands that I change how I address people, which is already respectful as it is, to appease a small part of the population, however growing. I can't please everyone.
Of course we cannot leave out retail. That used to be so easy. You got into the car, went someplace like a store or mall, got what you needed, and went home, then got arrested when you discovered you forgot to pay. Then Amazon was invented near the end of the 90s. Amazon was this bizarre Internet site where you could buy practically anything and get it shipped quickly and tax-free. Also at this time we got eBay, which was like an online auction, where instead of buying a CD at a store for $10, you could get into an online bidding war for the same item and pay much more, supposedly feeling better from the experience. From there, lots of physical stores began offering online options, and gradually the need for the physical store model has eroded. This is becoming especially true in grocery shopping and even restaurants. You can now order food and groceries in your birthday suit and get them delivered right to your home. The only expectation is that when it arrives you have at least a tie on for decency sake.
So many changes out there right now, I don't know what to make of all of it. Maybe I'm old-fashioned. Maybe I need to get with the times. Maybe that Grubhub Trans-Man-Woman-Porcupine-Androgynous Canteloupe driver better have extra fry sauce!
On Christmas Day, I received another belt. This one has a new gimmick, where you cut off the extra length you will never need (at least until the end of January when the diet resolution has long since failed), you just put it into the buckle where a demonic ratchet system pulls it through without the holes. Quite a nice system, acutally.
That noted, I must wonder about the "new ingenuity" we face in this day and age and weight. Let us take the belt, for example. For over 40 years, I've seen only belts with the insert-rod-in-hole system (er...yeah...you know what I meant!).Suddenly after decades of the same system, we have something new? Was it necessary? Are they making money off of it? Tune in tomorrow, same bat time, same bat-
Sorry, got carried away there. Yet, I look at this not-so-new century (but fairly new millenium) and see so many changes to what I considered to be an established status quo.
Take fast food restaurants, for example. Back in the day when I ran 9 miles in the snow before school started because my Atari was broken, every fast food restaurant was a well-sized building with huge imaginative logos and large dining rooms. In recent years, these buildings have been put in the dryer and reduced by several sizes into uglified somewhat 3D edifices of right angles, their logos reduced to symbols and their questionable good food reduced to aa pop culture joke.
Then there is American history. Growing up in the 1970s and 80s and just now maturing at almost 2020, I learned a great deal of American history and what the good and the bad were in terms of events and people. Now, people want to rewrite, or in some cases ERASE, history to create something that is, and was, not real. Why? There is a growing sense of "political correctness" (which is a dumb name because I have never seen or met a correct politician) that seeks to offend as few people as possible. Well, folks, as long as there is a human race, people will be offended. Sometimes it is good, other times it is a wrong choice, and still other times it cannot be helped because you just can't tell when someone will be offended.
Then there is gender identification. Now, I will be the first to admit that the idea of homosexuality was a joke to me when I was a teen. It was a joke because I couldn't identify with it. As I got older, I understood it was a thing that existed and it was around me, especially in my California era (1992-2002, RIP). I came to know some homosexual people through school, work, and even in people I had known for years who had identified themselves as gay, lesbian, what have you.Now it has gone beyond the sexual component to an emotional identification. For thousands, even millions, of years, there have been two physical genders in the animal kingdom. Now, within the past 20 years, there has been an explosion of "new" genders. Not physical ones, but mental ones. I have seen some lists of these genders put out by the LGBTQ and whatever letters they have added since. Some seem unique, others seem to blend into one another. It's quite confusing to me, and I suspect it is confusing for the ones who go through those crises themselves. I could go on, but it is a complex topic. I will end this section by saying I respect all people to the best of my ability, but do not respect the demands that I change how I address people, which is already respectful as it is, to appease a small part of the population, however growing. I can't please everyone.
Of course we cannot leave out retail. That used to be so easy. You got into the car, went someplace like a store or mall, got what you needed, and went home, then got arrested when you discovered you forgot to pay. Then Amazon was invented near the end of the 90s. Amazon was this bizarre Internet site where you could buy practically anything and get it shipped quickly and tax-free. Also at this time we got eBay, which was like an online auction, where instead of buying a CD at a store for $10, you could get into an online bidding war for the same item and pay much more, supposedly feeling better from the experience. From there, lots of physical stores began offering online options, and gradually the need for the physical store model has eroded. This is becoming especially true in grocery shopping and even restaurants. You can now order food and groceries in your birthday suit and get them delivered right to your home. The only expectation is that when it arrives you have at least a tie on for decency sake.
So many changes out there right now, I don't know what to make of all of it. Maybe I'm old-fashioned. Maybe I need to get with the times. Maybe that Grubhub Trans-Man-Woman-Porcupine-Androgynous Canteloupe driver better have extra fry sauce!
Tuesday, December 24, 2019
Le Club Stupide
Almost a month ago, I turned the ripe old prime number age of 47. Aside from the presents of lower back pain, higher cholesterol, and indigestion, I received a few presents that I could actually open. One of them was a new belt from my wife. Upon inspection of the contents, I saw an advisory paper that shocked me to my very core..."If you need to punch a new hole, don't punch when you are wearing the belt."
Granted, this is something I would have tried when I was a teenager because, well, I was not what you would consider a safety-minded individual. Yet, over the past 30 years I have developed into an individual who does not need to invite any more pain than already gifted to me. Still, I shudder at the message, that people need to be told this. I shuuder, then I think...then I plan....
Why of course! It's just one of those many things that are given away for free when people could be paying good money for it: advisories for the stupid. You know, belts, cigarettes, McDonald's coffee, motorcycle helmets, seat belts. Why the hell are the warnings given away for free or even made into laws? Let's make this a side business, we'll call it The Stupid Club...well, maybe not so direct. You know how damned sensitive stupid people are to being called on their intelligence lack. Let's instead call it Le Club Stupide, for anything in French gives it an air of sophistication, snobbery, and a high price to attain that status.
It will be like the Dollar Shave Club (which isn't really a dollar anymore), but if you are looking for possible warnings to products you are using, it will no longer be on the original packaging. Through various pressure campaigns on Congress, the Federal Trade Commission, and Pauly Shore, who even today looks like he NEEDS warning labels, we have removed all warnings from consumer products and are instead selling them at the appropriate rates.
What is an appropriate rate, you may ask? Simply, the safer the product, the steeper the price, for you make us work harder to come up with something. Take this sample chat session.
Agent: Hello, I am Nick (really Shaheef). How may I assist you today?
Pathetique: Hi, Nick. Where are you?
Agent. Yes, I can help you with that....one moment (2 minutes) Thank you for waiting while I find that information (3 minutes)....I am at a computer.
Pathetique: Right. Ok, so I am at an Arby's and I got a packet of horsey sauce.
Agent: I can understand your problem. Please continue.
Pathetique: I need to know if this product is dangerous in any way.
Agent: I can definitely help you with that. Do you have a credit card available?
Pathetique: For what?
Agent: It is a sauce packet. It's not like it was a Tide Pod.
Pathetique: But I don't know if I can get hurt by this.
Agent: FIne, that will be $50.
Pathetique: $50? Why?
Agent: Processing, my pay, health insurance.
Pathetique: Ok (gives number)
Agent: Here is your warning label: "Warning: opening sauce packet improperly may result in soiled clothes." For $5 more I can add another.
Pathetique: Oh, yes please!
Agent: "Warning: this product contains a lot of factory-processed crap disguised as a real sauce. Consume at your own risk."
Pathetique: Oh thank you!
Agent: Please stay online to complete our customer dissatisfaction survey.
As you can see, there are indeed millions of morons in the nation that will need this service. And it won't be just sauce packets, it'll be remote controls, clothes, keys, teeth, fingernails, and even your own hair.
Act now and you will receive our not-free brochures that you will probably just toss in the trash along with your bills. And remember, if you can't figure it out on your own, pay us to do it for you!
Granted, this is something I would have tried when I was a teenager because, well, I was not what you would consider a safety-minded individual. Yet, over the past 30 years I have developed into an individual who does not need to invite any more pain than already gifted to me. Still, I shudder at the message, that people need to be told this. I shuuder, then I think...then I plan....
Why of course! It's just one of those many things that are given away for free when people could be paying good money for it: advisories for the stupid. You know, belts, cigarettes, McDonald's coffee, motorcycle helmets, seat belts. Why the hell are the warnings given away for free or even made into laws? Let's make this a side business, we'll call it The Stupid Club...well, maybe not so direct. You know how damned sensitive stupid people are to being called on their intelligence lack. Let's instead call it Le Club Stupide, for anything in French gives it an air of sophistication, snobbery, and a high price to attain that status.
It will be like the Dollar Shave Club (which isn't really a dollar anymore), but if you are looking for possible warnings to products you are using, it will no longer be on the original packaging. Through various pressure campaigns on Congress, the Federal Trade Commission, and Pauly Shore, who even today looks like he NEEDS warning labels, we have removed all warnings from consumer products and are instead selling them at the appropriate rates.
What is an appropriate rate, you may ask? Simply, the safer the product, the steeper the price, for you make us work harder to come up with something. Take this sample chat session.
Agent: Hello, I am Nick (really Shaheef). How may I assist you today?
Pathetique: Hi, Nick. Where are you?
Agent. Yes, I can help you with that....one moment (2 minutes) Thank you for waiting while I find that information (3 minutes)....I am at a computer.
Pathetique: Right. Ok, so I am at an Arby's and I got a packet of horsey sauce.
Agent: I can understand your problem. Please continue.
Pathetique: I need to know if this product is dangerous in any way.
Agent: I can definitely help you with that. Do you have a credit card available?
Pathetique: For what?
Agent: It is a sauce packet. It's not like it was a Tide Pod.
Pathetique: But I don't know if I can get hurt by this.
Agent: FIne, that will be $50.
Pathetique: $50? Why?
Agent: Processing, my pay, health insurance.
Pathetique: Ok (gives number)
Agent: Here is your warning label: "Warning: opening sauce packet improperly may result in soiled clothes." For $5 more I can add another.
Pathetique: Oh, yes please!
Agent: "Warning: this product contains a lot of factory-processed crap disguised as a real sauce. Consume at your own risk."
Pathetique: Oh thank you!
Agent: Please stay online to complete our customer dissatisfaction survey.
As you can see, there are indeed millions of morons in the nation that will need this service. And it won't be just sauce packets, it'll be remote controls, clothes, keys, teeth, fingernails, and even your own hair.
Act now and you will receive our not-free brochures that you will probably just toss in the trash along with your bills. And remember, if you can't figure it out on your own, pay us to do it for you!
Sunday, December 22, 2019
Holidays of Our Lives
It is time once again to glance into that crystal ball....or rather the box that contains all of those horrid home movies that were taken in your youth. That's right, the 8mm shows with no sound that display you diaper-assed on the living room carpet doing a strange amalgam of a crawl and belly flop while pursuing a box of fig newtons and...no, just me, I am hopefully assuming!
That said, some of those fondest times often involved the Christmas holidays. I recently watched the tape of those home movies, which my dad and I transferred to VHS along with some interesting muzak 27 years ago. Yes, there is nothing quite like watching your youngest days with an instrumental rendition of "California Girls" ENHANCING the moment. As a kid I always looked forward to seeing the reels we had, mainly to see myself, but this past viewing showed me who the home movies were truly all about: my sister Kristin. The timeframe of those films was roughly from early 1970 to mid 1982, so we see her grow from less than a year old to almost 13. It was a bit of an emotional viewing, but in a good way. My sister and I have had trouble connecting with each other throughout our lives, just different personalities made for some clashes, and we went through a period of not speaking for a bit. I am very glad things are good again, and I will move from there.
Some other things in those movies Christmas-wise show some idea of what gifts were given throughout the years for Christmas. I wish I could remember to those earliest days, for I received some really nice and imaginative presents as a kid. There were some electronics to be sure, but not an overwhelming amount. For reasons of decency, I will leave out the clothes, particularly Mrs. Claus's underwear and sock fetish.
1978- This is quite frankly the earliest I can remember, as I was 6 at the time. We were in Michigan. What I distinctly remember from this is via an audio recording my grandfather made to send to my aunt in California. This was the Christmas of jigsaw puzzles and a new set of Legos...and apparently a wristwatch I remember nothing about. Today, in 2019, I am still working on a 2000 piece puzzle I got for my birthday.
1979- For some reason, I can remember some of this one even without an audio aid. I think it is because we had the road trip from hell getting from North Carolina to Michigan. Three big presents I remember here are a Viewmaster that had an audio track. The next was a small Lionel train set called the Midnight Flyer...my dad was igniting my train interest at that time. On the last big one, I cannot be sure if it was for Christmas or my birthday, but sometime that year I got a Merlin.
For anyone who does not remember this device, it was red and easily fit in the palm of your hand. There were 11 buttons that had red lights, and could play programmed music...Tic Tac Toe...Magic Square...Blackjack, Echo (like Simon), and Mindbender (like Mastermind). The audio effects were cool and made gameplay almost eternal....well, at least until the 6 AA's went dead.
1980- For some strange reason, I cannot remember this Christmas well...apart from the fact that it was the final Christmas in Michigan. The one gift I do remember is a Star Wars board game involving the death star attack.
1981- Our first home Christmas. More than presents, I distictly remember two traditions beginning this year. One, having a real Christmas tree. Two, our Christmas Eve gathering with the Kirkners. Present-wise, I remember a bike and the book and record set of The Empire Strikes Back. It may sound hokey, but since the advent of ownable movies was not quite there, we Star Wars fans had to rely on these for the music and sound effects when the movies weren't being rerun. I also got the soundtrack from the movie on vinyl...I do believe my family was plotting my murder over the next year from hearing the songs over and over.
1982- My relatively electronic-free life was now over...the big present for me was an Atari 2600! Even better in a way was that we got a Scottish Terrier whom we named Mac (short for MacTavish).
1983- No real memories apart from Jungle Hunt for the Atari...and I believe the Return of the Jedi soundtrack. My life revolved around the Atari and Star Wars in those days....amazing I didn't get laid until later than others!
1984- nothing solid here.
1985- Ah, now my gaming experience was going to get even better. I received a Commodore 64 computer! What made this perfect was that my dad had access at work to a vast array of games on floppy disc. For a while, the computer was in the family room, but sometime in the next year it made its way to my room. Aside from gaming, it also became my writing portal via an old outdated program called Bank Street Writer (pre-MS Word glory). The whole setup was perfect, well almost perfect...the dot matrix printer completely sucked ass.
1986- nope, no big memories
1987- A big computer desk that at first looked like a big deal to put together, but in my adult years I've put together many like it. Some games, some music tapes...and my parents being away for the Rose Bowl was a glorious prospect.
1988- A decent weight set is what I remember ,but I didn't get that much use out of it. Probably would have been better the previous year when I was in weight class for PE.
1989- Nothing comes to mind
1990- A sad one in retrospect. I was all ready to go on a trip to London with a lot of my Wilson classmates, and I received a nice luggage set for it. A month or so later, the trip was canceled due to the Gulf War and possible terrorist reprisals around the world.
1991- This one was bittersweet because it was our last Christmas in Pennsylvania. My dad had accepted a job in San Diego. The only present I remember getting was a small portable TV (so I could watch Wapner at 5 wherever I was). I spent most of the break from college with friends since I didn't know when I'd see them again.
1992- Our first in California. I remember being sick, and also hanging with our new Finnish family members (my aunt had remarried that year) on Christmas Eve. Two big presents I remember are a shortwave radio and the aforementioned home movies on VHS.
1993- Months before, I had sung, "All I want for Christmas is a trip to PA." That was pretty much it. Well, I also had gotten the radio dramas to "Star Wars" and "The Empire Strikes Back" by request.
The trip itself was fun, I got to see the people I wanted to see and enjoyed catching up. The New Year's Eve party at Rick Klingaman's house was the highlight. I even got to stay an extra day due to an eastern seaboard snowstorm blocking any travel.
1994- Nothing solid here, though it is notable that it was the final one with my parents together. It would shatter my idea of a family Christmas until I got one of my own. To tell the truth, this is probably a good place to end the timeline.
Not that I haven't enjoyed Christmas for 25 years, but my enjoyment of it as a youth was truly over...and that is not a bad thing. The next several (11 to be exact) Christmases were spent traveling to San Diego and spending time with both parents. Not an easy era, and there were a few arguments with one parent or another over the percentage of time I spent with each.
As a husband and later father, I've been able to enjoy the Christmas that we wanted to have. A few times we have gone to San Diego, but being home is the best present of all! Now leave me alone, I'm on my Merlin!
1978- This is quite frankly the earliest I can remember, as I was 6 at the time. We were in Michigan. What I distinctly remember from this is via an audio recording my grandfather made to send to my aunt in California. This was the Christmas of jigsaw puzzles and a new set of Legos...and apparently a wristwatch I remember nothing about. Today, in 2019, I am still working on a 2000 piece puzzle I got for my birthday.
1979- For some reason, I can remember some of this one even without an audio aid. I think it is because we had the road trip from hell getting from North Carolina to Michigan. Three big presents I remember here are a Viewmaster that had an audio track. The next was a small Lionel train set called the Midnight Flyer...my dad was igniting my train interest at that time. On the last big one, I cannot be sure if it was for Christmas or my birthday, but sometime that year I got a Merlin.
For anyone who does not remember this device, it was red and easily fit in the palm of your hand. There were 11 buttons that had red lights, and could play programmed music...Tic Tac Toe...Magic Square...Blackjack, Echo (like Simon), and Mindbender (like Mastermind). The audio effects were cool and made gameplay almost eternal....well, at least until the 6 AA's went dead.
1980- For some strange reason, I cannot remember this Christmas well...apart from the fact that it was the final Christmas in Michigan. The one gift I do remember is a Star Wars board game involving the death star attack.
1981- Our first home Christmas. More than presents, I distictly remember two traditions beginning this year. One, having a real Christmas tree. Two, our Christmas Eve gathering with the Kirkners. Present-wise, I remember a bike and the book and record set of The Empire Strikes Back. It may sound hokey, but since the advent of ownable movies was not quite there, we Star Wars fans had to rely on these for the music and sound effects when the movies weren't being rerun. I also got the soundtrack from the movie on vinyl...I do believe my family was plotting my murder over the next year from hearing the songs over and over.
1982- My relatively electronic-free life was now over...the big present for me was an Atari 2600! Even better in a way was that we got a Scottish Terrier whom we named Mac (short for MacTavish).
1983- No real memories apart from Jungle Hunt for the Atari...and I believe the Return of the Jedi soundtrack. My life revolved around the Atari and Star Wars in those days....amazing I didn't get laid until later than others!
1984- nothing solid here.
1985- Ah, now my gaming experience was going to get even better. I received a Commodore 64 computer! What made this perfect was that my dad had access at work to a vast array of games on floppy disc. For a while, the computer was in the family room, but sometime in the next year it made its way to my room. Aside from gaming, it also became my writing portal via an old outdated program called Bank Street Writer (pre-MS Word glory). The whole setup was perfect, well almost perfect...the dot matrix printer completely sucked ass.
1986- nope, no big memories
1987- A big computer desk that at first looked like a big deal to put together, but in my adult years I've put together many like it. Some games, some music tapes...and my parents being away for the Rose Bowl was a glorious prospect.
1988- A decent weight set is what I remember ,but I didn't get that much use out of it. Probably would have been better the previous year when I was in weight class for PE.
1989- Nothing comes to mind
1990- A sad one in retrospect. I was all ready to go on a trip to London with a lot of my Wilson classmates, and I received a nice luggage set for it. A month or so later, the trip was canceled due to the Gulf War and possible terrorist reprisals around the world.
1991- This one was bittersweet because it was our last Christmas in Pennsylvania. My dad had accepted a job in San Diego. The only present I remember getting was a small portable TV (so I could watch Wapner at 5 wherever I was). I spent most of the break from college with friends since I didn't know when I'd see them again.
1992- Our first in California. I remember being sick, and also hanging with our new Finnish family members (my aunt had remarried that year) on Christmas Eve. Two big presents I remember are a shortwave radio and the aforementioned home movies on VHS.
1993- Months before, I had sung, "All I want for Christmas is a trip to PA." That was pretty much it. Well, I also had gotten the radio dramas to "Star Wars" and "The Empire Strikes Back" by request.
The trip itself was fun, I got to see the people I wanted to see and enjoyed catching up. The New Year's Eve party at Rick Klingaman's house was the highlight. I even got to stay an extra day due to an eastern seaboard snowstorm blocking any travel.
1994- Nothing solid here, though it is notable that it was the final one with my parents together. It would shatter my idea of a family Christmas until I got one of my own. To tell the truth, this is probably a good place to end the timeline.
Not that I haven't enjoyed Christmas for 25 years, but my enjoyment of it as a youth was truly over...and that is not a bad thing. The next several (11 to be exact) Christmases were spent traveling to San Diego and spending time with both parents. Not an easy era, and there were a few arguments with one parent or another over the percentage of time I spent with each.
As a husband and later father, I've been able to enjoy the Christmas that we wanted to have. A few times we have gone to San Diego, but being home is the best present of all! Now leave me alone, I'm on my Merlin!
Saturday, December 14, 2019
A Picture is Worth A Thousand Dollars!
I was an unwitting victim of a criminal plot this afteroon. It started out so innocently. We went to the state-of-the-art photography studio to get our Christmas (seasonal to the wusses) pictures taken in order to satisfy those around us that we exist, theoretically.
For those who have also partaken in this satanic ritual, you know the drill. You put on something "appropriate" (actual family values may vary), go to the studio, and engage in very uncomfortable poses that will not be seen for at least a week. When the photos do arrive, you really have no choice except to take them home, make a temporary yet satisfying plan to burn them, then instead send them to family members who will do the deed for you. You save one to put in a frame on the mantle....coincidentally just above the fireplace in case the urge hits.
My family pictures from youth were...in laymen's terms...a load of crapola. We didn't really enjoy them as much as one could. Some years, it was all of us, sometimes just me and my sister, and the latter weren't a bundle of sincere joy, either. I think if we'd been allowed to pose strangling each other, the sincerity of the holiday season would have come forth more. Don't get me wrong, I do love my sister...now. but we made for horrible rommates back in the day. My mom never looked like she enjoyed being photographed (and she indeed did not), and my dad put forth that paternal aura that said "this is American middle class tradition and we're not going to buck it, because being different is bad!"
That said, I've taken a different view of having pictures taken in recent years. This is due to being married to someone who likes to have fun. Having our pictures taken is a fun event instead of societal ritual akin to taxes and dental work. We get dressed often in costumes and pose like we are having fun. Sometimes the fun comes out forced. Remember that state-of-the-art studio I mentioned? Its evil lure is the promise of your photo package 30 minutes after shelling out the bucks. It is genius how they lay it all out. Don Vito Corleone could only dream of this simplicity!
1. They mail/email a "coupon", promising a pretty neat package costing only $29 plus "processing fees"....you know, where the real new American economy thrives!
2. You arrive with your family at the studio for an "appointment", which comes from the Latin roots "app" for long time waiting, and "ointment" meaning you were lubed well for this screwing!
3. You wait for 2 hours past the "scheduled" time because other schmucks also came for this pyramid scheme, and pass the time by running your phone battery down on social media or messaging, getting hit by hurled Duplos from unsupervised kids, and watching other families in a similar bind....because $29 plus "processing" is too good to pass up.
4. You get called in for the photo shoot, which is actually the best part. The photographers are pretty open to your suggestions because, hey, you saw the coupon, so some creativity must have struck you. Otherwise, it's the same crap from the old days, but with different props and backgrounds. They take about 60 shots, a quarter of which you're unprepared for.
5. You then sit in front of a computer where they load up all of your shots, put into groups of 3. You begin a painful process of choosing the least hideous of the 3....20 times! Then you have to narrow those choice from 20 to 10 to 6 to 3 to just 1. Then the real violation of the Geneva Convention begins, as shown in this dialogue. You may find some similarities to timeshare presentations.
Agent: Well, here we are.
Me: Forget it, I'm married.
Agent: What?
Me: I mean, I have a coupon.
Agent: Yes sir, of course, sir. But, have you noticed any of these wonderful photo packages, where you can spend upward of $1,000?
Me: I was told not to look, or my face would melt away.
Agent: Please, take a look. Why, we have calendars where we can plug in 12 of your shots today.
Me: We already bought a calendar for next year of oddly shaped surgical scars. Let's stick with the coupon.
Agent: Of course you did. We also have coffee mugs, a collage of every good photo you took...which amounts to 3...ornaments, canvases....really, don't you want your family to remember this experience? This isn't just a family picture, it's building memories.
Me: And I'm going to have a great memory of shoving a canvas where the sun doesn't shine if we don't stick with the coupon...which DOES include a canvas, mind you.
Agent (shaking her head): Ah sir, you do know how to negotiate. Now, here's a magnificent package totaling $562 plus $231 processing. You family and loved ones will cherish this forever...(stares into my eyes)
Me: Well, let me think....nah, the coupon stands alone.
Agent (attempting the Jedi mind trick with a slight hand wave): You will buy a more expensive package.
Eventually, the agent caves to the coupon. They really do expect this eventuality, though there is probably a bell that is rung when a higher sale is made. The "processing fee" is applied, which brings the total to $51....you see where the money is made. We then hit the nearby Freddy's Steakburger, applying for a loan since our money was sucked out for the pictures, which we pick up 30 minutes later.
As for us, we will continue to go there. The immediacy is the draw. Often, having a shoot just for Natalie is better, though her smiles are more forced as she has gotten older. Six years ago, she did a great session laughing and smiling just before turning 4. We didn't even burn them...quite frankly I don't think anyone we sent them to burned them, either....to my knowledge.
For those who have also partaken in this satanic ritual, you know the drill. You put on something "appropriate" (actual family values may vary), go to the studio, and engage in very uncomfortable poses that will not be seen for at least a week. When the photos do arrive, you really have no choice except to take them home, make a temporary yet satisfying plan to burn them, then instead send them to family members who will do the deed for you. You save one to put in a frame on the mantle....coincidentally just above the fireplace in case the urge hits.
My family pictures from youth were...in laymen's terms...a load of crapola. We didn't really enjoy them as much as one could. Some years, it was all of us, sometimes just me and my sister, and the latter weren't a bundle of sincere joy, either. I think if we'd been allowed to pose strangling each other, the sincerity of the holiday season would have come forth more. Don't get me wrong, I do love my sister...now. but we made for horrible rommates back in the day. My mom never looked like she enjoyed being photographed (and she indeed did not), and my dad put forth that paternal aura that said "this is American middle class tradition and we're not going to buck it, because being different is bad!"
That said, I've taken a different view of having pictures taken in recent years. This is due to being married to someone who likes to have fun. Having our pictures taken is a fun event instead of societal ritual akin to taxes and dental work. We get dressed often in costumes and pose like we are having fun. Sometimes the fun comes out forced. Remember that state-of-the-art studio I mentioned? Its evil lure is the promise of your photo package 30 minutes after shelling out the bucks. It is genius how they lay it all out. Don Vito Corleone could only dream of this simplicity!
1. They mail/email a "coupon", promising a pretty neat package costing only $29 plus "processing fees"....you know, where the real new American economy thrives!
2. You arrive with your family at the studio for an "appointment", which comes from the Latin roots "app" for long time waiting, and "ointment" meaning you were lubed well for this screwing!
3. You wait for 2 hours past the "scheduled" time because other schmucks also came for this pyramid scheme, and pass the time by running your phone battery down on social media or messaging, getting hit by hurled Duplos from unsupervised kids, and watching other families in a similar bind....because $29 plus "processing" is too good to pass up.
4. You get called in for the photo shoot, which is actually the best part. The photographers are pretty open to your suggestions because, hey, you saw the coupon, so some creativity must have struck you. Otherwise, it's the same crap from the old days, but with different props and backgrounds. They take about 60 shots, a quarter of which you're unprepared for.
5. You then sit in front of a computer where they load up all of your shots, put into groups of 3. You begin a painful process of choosing the least hideous of the 3....20 times! Then you have to narrow those choice from 20 to 10 to 6 to 3 to just 1. Then the real violation of the Geneva Convention begins, as shown in this dialogue. You may find some similarities to timeshare presentations.
Agent: Well, here we are.
Me: Forget it, I'm married.
Agent: What?
Me: I mean, I have a coupon.
Agent: Yes sir, of course, sir. But, have you noticed any of these wonderful photo packages, where you can spend upward of $1,000?
Me: I was told not to look, or my face would melt away.
Agent: Please, take a look. Why, we have calendars where we can plug in 12 of your shots today.
Me: We already bought a calendar for next year of oddly shaped surgical scars. Let's stick with the coupon.
Agent: Of course you did. We also have coffee mugs, a collage of every good photo you took...which amounts to 3...ornaments, canvases....really, don't you want your family to remember this experience? This isn't just a family picture, it's building memories.
Me: And I'm going to have a great memory of shoving a canvas where the sun doesn't shine if we don't stick with the coupon...which DOES include a canvas, mind you.
Agent (shaking her head): Ah sir, you do know how to negotiate. Now, here's a magnificent package totaling $562 plus $231 processing. You family and loved ones will cherish this forever...(stares into my eyes)
Me: Well, let me think....nah, the coupon stands alone.
Agent (attempting the Jedi mind trick with a slight hand wave): You will buy a more expensive package.
Eventually, the agent caves to the coupon. They really do expect this eventuality, though there is probably a bell that is rung when a higher sale is made. The "processing fee" is applied, which brings the total to $51....you see where the money is made. We then hit the nearby Freddy's Steakburger, applying for a loan since our money was sucked out for the pictures, which we pick up 30 minutes later.
As for us, we will continue to go there. The immediacy is the draw. Often, having a shoot just for Natalie is better, though her smiles are more forced as she has gotten older. Six years ago, she did a great session laughing and smiling just before turning 4. We didn't even burn them...quite frankly I don't think anyone we sent them to burned them, either....to my knowledge.
Monday, December 2, 2019
The Porn Article
You look at that title and think, "Oh shit, he's lost it." No, I haven't. I don't claim, however, to have no controversial opinions, because all opinions can stir controversy. Porn might be the most controversial subject out there because, well, SEX is controversial. It is what defines relationships between people, what destroys some relationships, and certainly creates curiosity. Porn is just the media representation of that in its explicit form. As a hetero male who got laid later in life than most of my peers, I got a healthy (some might say unhealthy) exposure to porn just for mere mental survival. Even as a happily married man, I've seen some merely as an educational tool.
Ah, you snicker at that, possibly chortle, maybe sneer. You think, "Yeah right, he's not getting it in the bedroom." Au contraine, I have used what I have seen often, and it brings more joy (most of the time) in the boudoir. Be assured, I will keep details of personal exploits to myself....the Ukraine has read enough of my material already!
The curiosity about sex of course is natural in our youth. We get fantasies about the ones we are attracted to eventually, but the actual picture is not that clear. The early images often came in the form of Playboy or Penthouse, where we (boys and lesbians) saw what we'd been curious about: NAKED WOMEN! My friend down the street (actually 2 friends) had dads with collections of this male gold mine. It was no wonder that I wanted to go to either place as often as I could, especially from age 10 on!
Next came the summer months, where I discovered that on our premium movie channel PRISM, late night Fridays and Saturdays featured some rahter interesting films. Well, the plots sucked and, as I later discovered, DUBBED often times. That said, the sex scenes were pretty damn fun! I had graduated from still pictures to movement! Granted, these films were not showing "close-ups" if you will (lots of T and A but nothing else), but to a 12 year old that did not matter. I wasn't Siskel, Ebert, Shalit, Lyons, or any of those twits looking for artistic value, I was looking for....for lack of a better word, release...nuff said.
Then, somehow, I found a reel movie in a box, a box that showed some FASCINATING images and I don't mean outer space!. After figuring out how to operate our soundless film projector, I got quite the eyeful. This wasn't the undetailed drivel I'd been watching on pay TV, this was close-up HARDCORE that showed EVERYTHING! I have to hand it to that 20 minute show, I finally got the mechanics of it all...I also learned that, unlike Hollywood, these weren't always the beautiful people. However, at my age, that was NOT my concern.
With all that, my mind had everything it needed for success. Well, not everything. I had the physical tool and the know-how, but not the confidence in life to make it work...actually, that idle status would continue for a while. In the meantime, I continued to gather "knowledge" through the high school and college years. At one point, while living in California, I borrowed a tape from a friend that had a lot of what I'd already seen, but in videotape aspect, not the film I'd seen. Not only that, I learned about a new technique that was at once fascinating and gross....that's right, you guessed it, the director got into the action!
No, seriously, I got an eyeful of the world of anal sex. That was a huge WHOA in my life. Now, as I was a late bloomer in a lot of things, I was probably the last American virgin boy to discover this world as well. I've also found out through serious talks amd dormitory seminars that this form of sex is the absolute dividing line where many people hit the brakes. It's a dealbreaker on dates, in marriages, relationships, as well as a common tactic in the gay world. Well, open eyes cannot be closed and forget, all part of life experience except in the Amish world....I assume.
As the Internet grew in popular use, so did the porn world. Websites grew in showing clips and whole movies. The sites even differentiated in terms of porn GENRE! If you want a milf, there's plenty there. If you want married couples, perfect! If you want midgets, you're twisted but nonetheless accommodated. Also, there are video chat rooms where if you are willing to shell out bucks, you can see people to some unspeakable acts....like cleaning the oven. Nude of course, but cleaning the oven is a foreign world to me!
So, what does this all mean in society, particularly American society? To many, porn is an absolute sin, a media form that victimizes women and children. Having lived in Vegas for some time, I am quite aware of porn's link to physical abuse, drugs, and human trafficking, a quite ugly world. Then there is a large group of curious teens who find the porn world to be educational, but that can also lead to doing things too early with disastrous results. The religious world gets weird on this topic, condemning porn as evil, though I think if some religious "leaders" made use of it, there might be less sexual abuse of innocent children going on. Then there are couples, both homo and hetero, that use porn as a pleasurable learning tool to heighten their sexual relationship.
Whatever the view, the porn world is not going away. It should probably be better regulated like other vices, but that's not my realm. Take it, leave it, comdemn it, embrace it, use it then hide it in pretend shame, whatever floats your boat. In the meantime let me say....WHOA! I didn't know you could do that with a canteloupe!
Ah, you snicker at that, possibly chortle, maybe sneer. You think, "Yeah right, he's not getting it in the bedroom." Au contraine, I have used what I have seen often, and it brings more joy (most of the time) in the boudoir. Be assured, I will keep details of personal exploits to myself....the Ukraine has read enough of my material already!
The curiosity about sex of course is natural in our youth. We get fantasies about the ones we are attracted to eventually, but the actual picture is not that clear. The early images often came in the form of Playboy or Penthouse, where we (boys and lesbians) saw what we'd been curious about: NAKED WOMEN! My friend down the street (actually 2 friends) had dads with collections of this male gold mine. It was no wonder that I wanted to go to either place as often as I could, especially from age 10 on!
Next came the summer months, where I discovered that on our premium movie channel PRISM, late night Fridays and Saturdays featured some rahter interesting films. Well, the plots sucked and, as I later discovered, DUBBED often times. That said, the sex scenes were pretty damn fun! I had graduated from still pictures to movement! Granted, these films were not showing "close-ups" if you will (lots of T and A but nothing else), but to a 12 year old that did not matter. I wasn't Siskel, Ebert, Shalit, Lyons, or any of those twits looking for artistic value, I was looking for....for lack of a better word, release...nuff said.
Then, somehow, I found a reel movie in a box, a box that showed some FASCINATING images and I don't mean outer space!. After figuring out how to operate our soundless film projector, I got quite the eyeful. This wasn't the undetailed drivel I'd been watching on pay TV, this was close-up HARDCORE that showed EVERYTHING! I have to hand it to that 20 minute show, I finally got the mechanics of it all...I also learned that, unlike Hollywood, these weren't always the beautiful people. However, at my age, that was NOT my concern.
With all that, my mind had everything it needed for success. Well, not everything. I had the physical tool and the know-how, but not the confidence in life to make it work...actually, that idle status would continue for a while. In the meantime, I continued to gather "knowledge" through the high school and college years. At one point, while living in California, I borrowed a tape from a friend that had a lot of what I'd already seen, but in videotape aspect, not the film I'd seen. Not only that, I learned about a new technique that was at once fascinating and gross....that's right, you guessed it, the director got into the action!
No, seriously, I got an eyeful of the world of anal sex. That was a huge WHOA in my life. Now, as I was a late bloomer in a lot of things, I was probably the last American virgin boy to discover this world as well. I've also found out through serious talks amd dormitory seminars that this form of sex is the absolute dividing line where many people hit the brakes. It's a dealbreaker on dates, in marriages, relationships, as well as a common tactic in the gay world. Well, open eyes cannot be closed and forget, all part of life experience except in the Amish world....I assume.
As the Internet grew in popular use, so did the porn world. Websites grew in showing clips and whole movies. The sites even differentiated in terms of porn GENRE! If you want a milf, there's plenty there. If you want married couples, perfect! If you want midgets, you're twisted but nonetheless accommodated. Also, there are video chat rooms where if you are willing to shell out bucks, you can see people to some unspeakable acts....like cleaning the oven. Nude of course, but cleaning the oven is a foreign world to me!
So, what does this all mean in society, particularly American society? To many, porn is an absolute sin, a media form that victimizes women and children. Having lived in Vegas for some time, I am quite aware of porn's link to physical abuse, drugs, and human trafficking, a quite ugly world. Then there is a large group of curious teens who find the porn world to be educational, but that can also lead to doing things too early with disastrous results. The religious world gets weird on this topic, condemning porn as evil, though I think if some religious "leaders" made use of it, there might be less sexual abuse of innocent children going on. Then there are couples, both homo and hetero, that use porn as a pleasurable learning tool to heighten their sexual relationship.
Whatever the view, the porn world is not going away. It should probably be better regulated like other vices, but that's not my realm. Take it, leave it, comdemn it, embrace it, use it then hide it in pretend shame, whatever floats your boat. In the meantime let me say....WHOA! I didn't know you could do that with a canteloupe!
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
Delighted in 2019
Is this thing on? Oh yes! Hello fellow listeners and welcome to another installment of the Dr Delighted Show! I am your ever so delighted host, delighted because I'm pretty well gassed before illegally parking in the studio handicapped spot!
I am glad to finally be able to produce an original show for a change. We've been airing reruns for the past several months. While that may seem strange, keep in mind that the average attention span these days provides for so little recall of anything within 24 hours that nobody notices the difference...and I still get a check. That said, let me look at all of my mail that's accumulated!
Hmm, bills, a great offer from Omaha Steaks, coupons for carpet cleaning, coupons for furnace checks, teeth whitening, oh here we go, an ad from the Adam and Eve Store....I'll file that one! DirecTv, Dish, oh here we are, the letters that make the FCC cringe whenever I read them! Or maybe how I respond to them. Whatever! Here's one from Las Vegas.
"Dear Dr Delighted,
I am a single mom of 4 kids, 2 of whom are grown and 2 who are still in elementary school. I'm not too worried about the older 2, but the younger 2 have a dad whom I am unfortunate enough to wait for support checks from. No matter how many times I take him to court, he still manages to dodge his responsibilities. I do ok on my own, but the kids deserve more. I guess my question is, is a flat ended shovel better to whack him with or is a pointed spade better? Asking for a friend.
Yours always, maybe tomorrow night,
Thelma"
Wow, Thelma, you must really think I'm stupid. I mean, with all that BS, did you really think I didn't see where you were going? For heaven sake, woman, a nice metal bow rake will make sure the job is done right! You use the shovel for burying the body 10 miles west of Indian Springs!And tell your 'friend' to not be stupid and bury it too near all the other bodies that are there! With that, here's one that fits the bill!
(plays "Janie's Got a Gun", followed by an erectile dysfunction ad)
Yeah, erectile dysfunction, otherwise known as ED. It isn't enough that we guys (well, not me personally) have to experience a cease fire 5 minutes before even firing, but we have to hear about this on the radio like it's the new rabies! Try being subtle! Try this: 'If your soldier can't salute, give the doc a hoot!'...or, 'A balloon deflated don't mean your sex life is exterminated!' Weget the point without the point being directly referenced, you cruel fiends!
And speaking of male performance problems, our next call is from 'Sandy', and the voice is a bit, let us say, ambiguous. Sandy, you are on the air!
"Hi, Doctor!"
Yo!
"So, I have a problem."
So I figure. Problem 1 is starting your sentences with 'so', but I'll leave the grammar to the school hours. Go on.
"So I was born with a penis and-"
Ooooo-K! Hang on. If I pick you up for a date, should I just ram my tongue down your throat at your door?
"What? No! I mean..."
Then don't ram your penis into my ear! Start slow, celebrity DJs love that.
"Oh, sorry. Well, I was born as what most people assume is male."
Much better! Keep going.
"But I don't feel male."
Aha!
"Yes?"
Oh, I was feeling my mail as you said that, nothing magical, you're not missing much. Keep rolling.
"I was done."
Okey-doky...you have male parts but you don't feel male. Do you feel like you are a female?
"Not exactly."
A fish perhaps?
"No, no, please don't kid."
Sandy, I never kid on hot issues, particularly the 90s issues of Penthouse. The big question is, what gender do you feel you are?
"Well, after talking with friends, I think I am feminine male-bodied nadleeh."
......................................
"Dr. Delighted?"
Yes?
"Did you hear me?"
I heard it, but understood nothing. What is female guy bodied Natalie?
"No no, feminine male-bodied nadleeh. It's a Navajo term."
Oh, I see. Are you a Navajo?
"No."
Then once again I am at sea. What exactly is this of which you speak?"
"Well, I have the guy parts but I am truly a female."
Oh. Do you look female?
"No, I look like a guy."
Uh-huh....do you use the dama or caballero restroom?
"Well, that's not really the question."
Oh, I forgot that part with all this 21st century lingo. What is your question?
"What?"
That sounds like a question to me. In the future, folks, when you call, have a question or a court order, it makes the show flow much better! While I play some Prince, I'm going to try to go back to 1977 when things made sense!
("Purple Rain" followed by an EAS test)
All right, so sometimes we get those static sounds, and sometimes we get the static with the classic EBS beep that scared hell out of me as a kid. Whatever, I think the tests have run their course because they all come back negative. And with that, here's a Thanksgiving letter from Bernie. Now that's an odd one...Bernie my shrink, Bernie my Jewish brother in law, or Bernie my tax man? Anyhow, here it goes.
"Dear Dr Delighted,
I am very distraught. My family always celebrated Thanksgiving when I grew up. We had all the great meals with turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie. We said what we were thanksful for and enjoyed the time together. Now I am in my mid 20s and have studied in college all about why Thanksgiving is a big lie and how the Pilgrims were vicious people who were mean to the natives who helped them. Quite frankly, I don't know what to believe in anymore. Can you help me?
Happy Thanksgiving,
Bernie"
Well, Bernie, if you are listening, your letter closing said it all. You wished me a happy Thanksgiving. The day is not about Pilgrim appreciation, for if you look at their clothes, there isn't much to appreciate. It is about being with family and being thankful for what and who are in your life. It matters not what you eat or where you eat...and if you get lucky, who you eat when all is said and done and I don't mean cannibalism. The day off was created for that family time or even time of self reflection and relaxation. With that, I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving as well, and I wish all of my listeners the same. And by golly, stay the hell out of the stores on Friday! You can't be thankful one day and be greedy the next, it's a hypocrisy one way or the other. Salut!
I am glad to finally be able to produce an original show for a change. We've been airing reruns for the past several months. While that may seem strange, keep in mind that the average attention span these days provides for so little recall of anything within 24 hours that nobody notices the difference...and I still get a check. That said, let me look at all of my mail that's accumulated!
Hmm, bills, a great offer from Omaha Steaks, coupons for carpet cleaning, coupons for furnace checks, teeth whitening, oh here we go, an ad from the Adam and Eve Store....I'll file that one! DirecTv, Dish, oh here we are, the letters that make the FCC cringe whenever I read them! Or maybe how I respond to them. Whatever! Here's one from Las Vegas.
"Dear Dr Delighted,
I am a single mom of 4 kids, 2 of whom are grown and 2 who are still in elementary school. I'm not too worried about the older 2, but the younger 2 have a dad whom I am unfortunate enough to wait for support checks from. No matter how many times I take him to court, he still manages to dodge his responsibilities. I do ok on my own, but the kids deserve more. I guess my question is, is a flat ended shovel better to whack him with or is a pointed spade better? Asking for a friend.
Yours always, maybe tomorrow night,
Thelma"
Wow, Thelma, you must really think I'm stupid. I mean, with all that BS, did you really think I didn't see where you were going? For heaven sake, woman, a nice metal bow rake will make sure the job is done right! You use the shovel for burying the body 10 miles west of Indian Springs!And tell your 'friend' to not be stupid and bury it too near all the other bodies that are there! With that, here's one that fits the bill!
(plays "Janie's Got a Gun", followed by an erectile dysfunction ad)
Yeah, erectile dysfunction, otherwise known as ED. It isn't enough that we guys (well, not me personally) have to experience a cease fire 5 minutes before even firing, but we have to hear about this on the radio like it's the new rabies! Try being subtle! Try this: 'If your soldier can't salute, give the doc a hoot!'...or, 'A balloon deflated don't mean your sex life is exterminated!' Weget the point without the point being directly referenced, you cruel fiends!
And speaking of male performance problems, our next call is from 'Sandy', and the voice is a bit, let us say, ambiguous. Sandy, you are on the air!
"Hi, Doctor!"
Yo!
"So, I have a problem."
So I figure. Problem 1 is starting your sentences with 'so', but I'll leave the grammar to the school hours. Go on.
"So I was born with a penis and-"
Ooooo-K! Hang on. If I pick you up for a date, should I just ram my tongue down your throat at your door?
"What? No! I mean..."
Then don't ram your penis into my ear! Start slow, celebrity DJs love that.
"Oh, sorry. Well, I was born as what most people assume is male."
Much better! Keep going.
"But I don't feel male."
Aha!
"Yes?"
Oh, I was feeling my mail as you said that, nothing magical, you're not missing much. Keep rolling.
"I was done."
Okey-doky...you have male parts but you don't feel male. Do you feel like you are a female?
"Not exactly."
A fish perhaps?
"No, no, please don't kid."
Sandy, I never kid on hot issues, particularly the 90s issues of Penthouse. The big question is, what gender do you feel you are?
"Well, after talking with friends, I think I am feminine male-bodied nadleeh."
......................................
"Dr. Delighted?"
Yes?
"Did you hear me?"
I heard it, but understood nothing. What is female guy bodied Natalie?
"No no, feminine male-bodied nadleeh. It's a Navajo term."
Oh, I see. Are you a Navajo?
"No."
Then once again I am at sea. What exactly is this of which you speak?"
"Well, I have the guy parts but I am truly a female."
Oh. Do you look female?
"No, I look like a guy."
Uh-huh....do you use the dama or caballero restroom?
"Well, that's not really the question."
Oh, I forgot that part with all this 21st century lingo. What is your question?
"What?"
That sounds like a question to me. In the future, folks, when you call, have a question or a court order, it makes the show flow much better! While I play some Prince, I'm going to try to go back to 1977 when things made sense!
("Purple Rain" followed by an EAS test)
All right, so sometimes we get those static sounds, and sometimes we get the static with the classic EBS beep that scared hell out of me as a kid. Whatever, I think the tests have run their course because they all come back negative. And with that, here's a Thanksgiving letter from Bernie. Now that's an odd one...Bernie my shrink, Bernie my Jewish brother in law, or Bernie my tax man? Anyhow, here it goes.
"Dear Dr Delighted,
I am very distraught. My family always celebrated Thanksgiving when I grew up. We had all the great meals with turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie. We said what we were thanksful for and enjoyed the time together. Now I am in my mid 20s and have studied in college all about why Thanksgiving is a big lie and how the Pilgrims were vicious people who were mean to the natives who helped them. Quite frankly, I don't know what to believe in anymore. Can you help me?
Happy Thanksgiving,
Bernie"
Well, Bernie, if you are listening, your letter closing said it all. You wished me a happy Thanksgiving. The day is not about Pilgrim appreciation, for if you look at their clothes, there isn't much to appreciate. It is about being with family and being thankful for what and who are in your life. It matters not what you eat or where you eat...and if you get lucky, who you eat when all is said and done and I don't mean cannibalism. The day off was created for that family time or even time of self reflection and relaxation. With that, I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving as well, and I wish all of my listeners the same. And by golly, stay the hell out of the stores on Friday! You can't be thankful one day and be greedy the next, it's a hypocrisy one way or the other. Salut!
Saturday, November 23, 2019
George and Shannon
Once in a while I go through some of my old writing....some are short storries, some are chapters from an unpublished book....actually all are unpublished, I'm not quite in the Clancy or Patterson world of cranking out bestsellers a few times a year. They do that for a living. I am a teacher and my time for sitting down and putting out a chapter or even short story with my family in constant wonderful distraction is slimmer than most might think.
I do not remember exactly when I wrote this, but it was sometime after being with Vickie for a while. Enjoy and vomit as needed!
*******************************************************************************
Shannon looked puzzled. “You’re
leaving?”Shannon looked at him, studying his
face. “You mean, did I recognize you a few days ago?”Shannon looked shocked for a minute.
George said nothing more, just sipped at his coffee. Finally, she nodded
slowly. “You’re right. I’ve dated the man you just described probably a
thousand times.”Shannon looked thoughtful for a moment.
George could tell she had made her usual plans for that night, but she nodded.
“It’s done.”
Shannon ’s face turned a deeper red.
“Just friends? I want it to be more than that.”
Shannon looked at George. “What do you
see in her?”Shannon ’s voice softened. “I don’t see
a geek, George.”
Shannon got up and looked at the
screen. “I never erased that profile. I meant to, I meant to erase all of
them.”Shannon sat down and read:Shannon sat back as she scrolled down
to read the original email. “George, let me explain.”Shannon said nothing.
I do not remember exactly when I wrote this, but it was sometime after being with Vickie for a while. Enjoy and vomit as needed!
*******************************************************************************
George Deacon was no hero, at least he didn’t think so. Not the sort of
hero most people have in mind. He was a computer techie, and was extremely
talented in that profession. He had probably saved thousands of jobs and
financial lives with his expertise, knowing how to derail Trojan horses, worms,
and other destructive influences that harm workplaces and personal bank
accounts every day. He supposed he could be called an anonymous hero, like
blood donors. Simply, though, he did his job and was done for the day when he
wanted to be. The real hero bit would come when he never suspected it would.
One August afternoon George had decided to take a day off and walk on
The Strip. He was one of the few people who could stand the heat of the Las Vegas California
The driver of the car tried too late to compensate and smashed into the
cab in front of him. The woman, indignant about the hands on her at first,
turned to see where she’d been. Her mouth fell open with shock. The driver got
out of his car, dazed. He had the nerve to shoot a dirty look at the cab that
was, in his mind, in the way. That look disappeared when the small crowd looked
at him with angry glares. The cab driver got out, and it looked like trouble.
George paid no attention. He looked at his damsel in distress. “Sorry I
had to do that, I just didn’t want you to get hurt, or killed.”
The woman smiled weakly, still shocked. “It’s ok.”
George looked at her for a long moment. She was looking familiar to him
for some reason. He knew he had seen her somewhere before.
She interrupted his thoughts. “I’m Shannon .”
“I’m George.”
They shook hands, then Shannon pulled
his arm to her and gave him a hug. “You saved my life!”
“I would have done it for anyone.”
“That makes it even greater.”
George blushed. “You sure you’re all right?”
“I am now, thank you, George.”
He kept blushing as he looked at her. A nice figure, red hair, decent
curves, though she was a bit taller than he was. He shrugged. “Well, I better
get going. If I were you, I’d stay a few feet from the curb from now on.”
“I will. Can I have your number?”
“Why do you need that? I think you should get that driver’s number
instead.” He pointed to the bad driver, who was having a heated argument with
the cabbie. Violence seemed to be imminent unless a cop showed.
“No, I’m ok. But I really feel I should have a way to contact you, to
say thank you again.”
“You just did.”
“Please?”
George shrugged, took out his wallet and gave Shannon
his business card. She looked at it carefully. “Computer consultant?”
“That’s me.”
She put it into her purse, then put out her hand again. “Thank you
again, George.”
“You’re welcome.” He moved along, forgetting his spilled soda on the
sidewalk. A few people cheered him as he passed them. George Deacon, the
lifesaver.
George got back to his apartment on the east side of Las Vegas
Minutes later he sat at his computer with the coffee mug next to him. He
logged in and then went to www.greatdates.com,
one of the sites where he had maintained a personal ad. He searched the site
for a few minutes, but found there were too many local profiles to sift
through. On a hunch, he looked at his inbox and there it was! A mail from
SexyShan, dated three months ago. He opened it and read it again. Of all the dames in the world, he
thought in an inner Bogart voice.
Two days later, while writing a report on new viruses, his cell phone
rang. He let it ring twice while he studied the number. He didn’t know it, but
decided to answer anyway. “Hello?”
“George Deacon?”
“Yes.”
“This is Shannon .”
George paused a moment. He had not really expected a call from her.
“Hi.”
“Are you busy?”
“I am working.”
“Do you have any lunch plans?”
“I do.”
“What are you doing for lunch?”
“Eating.”
“I mean, are you going anywhere?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. My afternoon is full of catch-up work.”
“Well, would you like to have lunch tomorrow?”
George sighed. He knew this was coming. “Shannon ,
you don’t have to invite me to lunch.”
“I do, though. You saved my life.”
“I did, and I was happy to do it. But you don’t have to reward me.”
“Just lunch, ok?”
“Ok.”
George hung up the phone and stared at it, like it was growing a fungus.
He put it down and then went back to work.
The next day they met at Won Bing’s, an upscale Chinese restaurant in
Summerlin. The food was not upscale, but the prices were. George and Shannon
sat and talked for an hour, he telling about his job and how boring it would be
if he didn’t make good money at it. She told about her job at a law office, and
how she was under constant pressure to have contracts drawn up on time and to
keep the schedule updated. He showed the proper interest in what she said
without getting overly involved, yet she seemed fascinated by what he did. He
knew she was faking it, because her eyes glazed over when he described the
complicated world of computer code. Yet, she remained focused.
Finally, the check came and Shannon
grabbed it right away. “This is on me.”
George nodded. She invited, she paid, simple math there. After the bill
was taken care of, George stood. “Shannon ,
thank you for lunch. I need to get some work done today, though.”
“That’s what standing up usually implies.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. This was a great break in the day. But I do work freelance, and my
clients need me to earn my pay.”
“A few more minutes? Coffee?”
George shrugged and sat down. It wasn’t as though she were an ogre, but
she did bother him. He was curious, though, about something. “Do I look
familiar to you?”
“Yes.”
“No, that was the first time I ever saw you.”
George nodded and smirked to himself. Nice choice of words, he thought. “I was just wondering.”
“Do you think we’ve met before?”
“No. I thought we had at first, but you are not the same person I
thought you were.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I saw you were staring at me the other day.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to stare.”
“It’s ok! I’ll tell you something, though. I think you are handsome.”
George smiled. “Really?”
“Yes. You have a lot more character than the other creeps in this town,
too.”
George shrugged. He seemed to be doing a lot of that around her. “I
couldn’t be a player if I tried.”
“Good, keep it that way.” Shannon
stared at her coffee uncertainly for a minute. “George, can I ask something?”
“Shoot.”
“How would you feel about a movie?”
“Shannon, that’s nice to ask, but I don’t think I’m your type.”
She looked up sharply. “My type?”
“Yes.”
“And what’s my type, George?” There was an angry edge to her voice.
“I think you go for taller guys with the fake charm, the ones who buy
women drinks at the clubs and expect to get laid in return, the ones who will
buy you what you want and expect to get laid in return. In other words, you go
for guys who will do what you ask, and whether or not they get what they want
means nothing to you. That guy isn’t me by any means.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just who you like. Tall, dark,
handsome. That’s not me by a long shot.”
“But you’re a good man. And I’m thinking I’ve been looking in the wrong
place.” She reached out and grabbed George’s hand. He accepted the grab
awkwardly. “Come to a movie with me, please?”
“What’s today?”
“Wednesday.”
“Friday night is the only time I can go.” He said that just for the
reaction.
George nodded.
Friday night, the two went to see a new science fiction adventure based
on some comic book series. They sat together, sharing a medium popcorn at high
prices, and each had a soda. George concentrated as much as he could on the
movie, but Shannon ’s hand on his was quite a
distraction. Occasionally she leaned over to put her head on his shoulder. He
didn’t take the cue to put his arm around her.
After the movie was over, the two walked to their cars in the parking
garage. He was a gentleman and walked her to her car first. When they reached
it, she turned around to face him. “George, why don’t you like me?”
“I do like you.”
“I mean, LIKE me.”
“Well, you can’t rush stuff like that. It takes time.”
“George, I’m not talking about feelings, I’m talking about sex.”
“I know.”
“You don’t want me?”
George looked down for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Shannon , you don’t want me. If I hadn’t pushed you away
from the car, you wouldn’t have even noticed me on the street.”
“If you hadn’t pushed, I might not be alive!”
George smiled gently. “Look, we’ve become friends. I wasn’t even
expecting that. The truth is, I found someone a month ago. She’s really great.”
“Oh. Where did you find her?”
“Online.”
Immediately, Shannon ’s face turned a
bright pink. “I tried that once. I hated it. All those guys ever wanted was
sex. Most weren’t my type.”
“Most your type don’t need to use the Internet. A lot of guys like me
do.”
“Really? What sites were you on?”
George quickly rattled off a few names, including the one she had sent
an email on, but she did not register recognition. The two stood silent for a
moment before George spoke again. “Chris didn’t like it that we went out
tonight, but I told her we were just going out as friends.”
“I know, but it can’t be.”
She reached over and pulled him into a kiss, he resisted gently, not
pushing her away, but keeping her tongue out of his mouth just the same.
Finally she backed away and took a breath. “Did Chris ever kiss you like that?”
George nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I’d better get home.” Shannon
looked crestfallen, her plans for the night had not gone well at all. She
opened her door and slowly got in. George watched her as she pulled away, then
headed toward his car on a different level.
It was a week later, and George had pretty much moved on when his cell
phone rang. It was Shannon . He had programmed
her number so he wouldn’t be surprised. He answered, “Hello?”
“Hi George.”
“Hi! How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“Glad to hear.”
“You doing all right?”
“Always.”
“Do you miss me?”
“Hard to answer that one.”
“I know, just putting you on the spot.”
“What’s up?”
“Dinner.”
“No.”
“No, wait a minute. I want to have it with you and your girlfriend
Chris.”
That stopped George. “Really?”
“Yes. I thought about what you said. I like the idea of friends rather
than the idea of nothing.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“How’s Saturday for you two?”
“I’ll ask her, but it should be all right.”
“Same restaurant, say 6:00?”
“Sounds great, Shannon . See you then.”
At dinner on Saturday night, George was thoroughly enjoying being with
Chris. Shannon watched them, trying to look
like she was having a good time. She listened to Chris describe her job and
what she did. When Chris asked her about herself, Shannon
answered very politely and matter-of-factly. All she saw was how round Chris
was, with round cheeks, a bit portly in the middle, and thick thighs. However,
whenever George asked Shannon a question, Shannon
answered brightly and cheerfully.
At 7:00, Chris had to go to her father’s house to help him out. He was
in a wheelchair and needed help getting around when her mom was at work. George
kissed Christina warmly goodbye and she left with a happy smile.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you find her attractive?”
“I do.”
“How can you?”
“Because she makes me smile and laugh, because she listens to what I
say. I listen to what she says, and I make her smile and laugh. We have good
times together.”
“But, she’s HUGE!”
George’s face darkened. “Stop! You don’t know her.”
“I think you deserve better than her.”
“And who the hell would that be?”
“I keep trying to tell you, it’s ME!”
George closed his eyes. “Do you know how long it took me to find a woman
who would accept me for me? Do you?”
“No.”
“A long time, Shannon ! I was ready to
give up when I found her. I’d emailed a lot of people and gotten some
responses, and a few actual meetings. Nothing ever really panned out. All they
saw was that I’m a computer tech geek standing at 5’5. They didn’t bother
listening to me, they just saw the outside. Christina saw the inside, liked
what she saw, and gave me a chance, and I have made sure that I do not
disappoint her. All she asks is acceptance for who she is, and I accept her
with my heart and my soul.”
“Yes you do. You’re confusing gratitude with something else. You have
thanked me for saving your life in so many ways, and I think you’ve thanked
enough. You don’t need to try to save my life, because it doesn’t need saving.”
“It does! Let me show you! I accept you for who you are. I LOVE you for
who you are.”
George wanted to lash out when he heard that word, but he stopped
himself. He looked at her curiously, keeping under control. “I want you to come
to my place.”
“Really?”
“Really. I think that only there can we make things right between us.”
“I agree!”
“I have the check tonight, all right?”
“Are you sure?”
“I think I can handle it.”
An hour later, they walked into George’s apartment. Shannon
looked around, trying to find something to admire. But she was not there to
admire the apartment. She wanted George. George knew that. He invited her to
sit down. She did.
“In the time we’ve known each other, have you ever figured out where we
met?”
“We never met, George!”
“We did meet.” He turned to his computer and found the website. After
logging into it, he found the email, but first clicked the link to her profile.
It popped up. “Look.”
“I’m sure you did. I’m sure you also don’t remember an email I sent
telling about myself and saying I was interested in meeting you.”
“You never sent an email.”
George clicked on his profile and showed her. “That doesn’t look
familiar?” he said forcefully.
“No!”
He finally returned to the email from her. Luckily it contained a carbon
copy of his original message. “Read that!”
“George,
Sorry, but I do not even talk to guys
like you. There would be no chance in hell of us even chatting online. Do me a
favor and get off this site and get others like you off so I can meet some real
men.
SexyShan”
He shook his head. “Nothing to explain. You meant what you said in that
note. And if another one like me were to pass you on the street, you wouldn’t
even notice. Hell, if a car came at them, you wouldn’t try to save THEM. I’m
only special because I did choose to save you. If I had to do it again, I
would. That’s who I am.”
“George, please. I was a different person then.”
“No. I saw the way you treated Chris tonight: with utter disrespect. I’m
glad I met you finally, and I’m glad you rejected me, because it allowed me to
find the right one.”
“You rejected me first.”
“Not according to that email.”
“But that was online! That doesn’t count.”
“I found you and you rejected me. Then somehow you found me and chose to
accept me out of gratitude.”
“I want you to leave, Shannon . Thank
you for turning me down back then. You let me find the one for me.”
Silently, slowly, Shannon rose from the
computer chair, tears running down her cheeks. She looked pleadingly at George,
but he stood still. Finally, she walked to the door, opened it, and closed it
from the other side.
George sat at his computer, read the email one more time, and finally
deleted it. Then he picked up his cell and called Chris.
Sunday, September 8, 2019
Sonoma State University
Once again, I find myself scrolling through friends' posts and coming up with an idea for a great article. It hasn't been that way for a while. In fact, I took a month off of Facebook because the political scene seemed to be taking over. Coming back, I see it has calmed down a bit. This morning I saw a post about my friend and her daughters scoping out colleges and low and behold, a pic of my alma mater Sonoma State University's sign showed up. Suddenly I was filled with memories that make me smile.
Let's go back in time, 26 years in fact (insert wavy acid-induced images as needed). I was in San Diego living with my folks, and it wasn't the easiest situation anymore. I had tried the going away to college thing at West Virginia University 2 years prior (we'd been living in PA when that began), but I wasn't ready, now I was. In fact, a year of crappy part time jobs in San Diego made me eager to start college again and my GPA rose from the WVU grave like lightning at Miramar College, a pretty decent community college then.
Community college gets one only so far, though. In the fall of 1993, my parents and I took a Labor Day weekend road trip to check out 3 colleges I had selected: Sonoma State, Chico State, and Fresno State Universities. We trekked up I 5 through the barren wastelands of the Central Valley to Stockton, then took a somewhat nicer CA 12 to Fairfield for the night.
The next morning found us in cooler temperatures, a pleasant surprise. We drove on 12 into Napa County, seeing the hilly vineyards on a cloudy day. It was quite the pleasant surprise. The weather was the same when we got into Cotati and then the Sonoma State campus. What a beautiful place! The open feel with the trees, scattered buildings, and beautiful lawns sold me immediately. Driving toward Chico, we saw more of northern California's beauty before hitting the ugliness of I 5 again. Chico itself was ok, but there was a sense of crowding that I didn't care for. Granted it was probably a Labor Day celebration, but the point was made. Coming back down on CA 99, we passed through some towns along with the bigger Sacramento before settling for the night in Modesto. We gave Fresno a glance the next day but it was more of a courtesy glance...Sonoma State had won out!
Almost a year later, my dad and I drove up to Sonoma State for an orientation. I stayed in the dorms with some other guys. Most of the dorms, especially the older ones, were named after wines. That night I stayed in the Traminer building (short for Gewurtztraminer). The next morning we ate in the Zinfandel dining hall then met with advisors of the departments we'd be majoring in. At the Liberal Studies office, I met someone who would end up becoming a great friend to this day: Kimberly Cognac. Later that day, my dad and I made our way through the Bay Area toward Monterey and the Big Sur coast, a nice scenic alternative to 5. As I would learn later, even 101 was more scenic than 5!
In terms of my time at Sonoma State, I must say it was a great place to be at that point in life. In my first year (1994-95), I was in the Sonoma complex dorms. There I met a new assortment of people, many of whom would be long-term friends: Karen Squires, Scott Catania, Calista Archuleta, and Jennifer McPhee. The first semester went well with classes and dorm life. As a bonus, Kimberly was in one of my classes. Eating at the dining hall was always a fun experience. The dorms got to be a little loud and boisterous at times, but Scott and I often took off for the movies or random drives through the boonies.
The next semester, I was allowed to take my car there. I was also experiencing my first northern California wet winter. My drive there alone (previously chronicled) was a thrill in itself. I was also interested in getting to know Kimberly better, and we did go out a few times. Sadly, my parents' divorce that semester turned my emotions inside out for a long time, and I wasn't in the right frame for a friendly relationship for a long time. On a plus note, I made another good friend in classic rock-loving Rob Lander that winter/spring. My liberal studies courses were beginning that semester and I met another friend in Sarah Scallon.
The following year (1995-96), Rob, Scott, and I were in the on-campus apartment building Merlot. We had a 4th with us, a Tourette's- stricken poor soul named Ed. I must say I did and said stuff that year directed at Ed that I am ashamed of now. I was angry about the divorce still and somehow he became my target (not without provocation, though). Down the hall were Karen and Kimberly along with their roomies Kerenza and Lori. On the food note, we became experts at shopping frugally for the week at Food 4 Less, not going over $80. My grades slipped a bit that fall, but the next semester they were brought up and I also took on a job at the Commons as a dishwasher, bringing in some extra money. Rob, Scott, and I also partook in making a movie with Rob's camcorder. That spring, Karen and Kimberly graduated.
In the summer of 1996, Scott and I got an apartment off campus. He was working at the credit union and I was on the painting crew on campus repainting the dorms. We still shopped at Food 4 Less, but with our jobs we made a bit extra to go beyond the $80 limit at times. In the fall, Rob joined us for one semester to finish out his units. Kimberly and I saw a bit of each other (she still had a class or 2 to take), but the divorce stuff was still in my system and that didn't pan out. In terms of classes, I was having a pretty good time, even taking in a tennis class for fun. The next semester, Kimberly was gone, and I was working on my last classes for graduation. I was also volunteering in an elementary school for one of the classes. I saw a bit more of Sarah that year, but nothing ever came of that.
Graduation came in May. It was a sad departure from my home of 3 years, and a little depression set in that summer. Three years later after some time as a substitute teacher, I returned to Sonoma State for three semesters in the education program. I met some new friends there, particularly Jacqueline Rolfe and Molly Roach. It was nice to be on campus again for a little while longer, though I spent more time student teaching than being on campus for the last two semesters.
A post-script: I am friends with several people from my Sonoma State era still. I was Scott's best man and he was mine at both out weddings. I still talk to Rob from time to time and still talk to Karen and Jennifer on Facebook. As for Kimberly, she and her family moved to Vegas almost two years ago, and not only has our friendship renewed, she is also buds with Vickie and Natalie, which creates a great family feeling.
Sonoma State...a great time in life!
Let's go back in time, 26 years in fact (insert wavy acid-induced images as needed). I was in San Diego living with my folks, and it wasn't the easiest situation anymore. I had tried the going away to college thing at West Virginia University 2 years prior (we'd been living in PA when that began), but I wasn't ready, now I was. In fact, a year of crappy part time jobs in San Diego made me eager to start college again and my GPA rose from the WVU grave like lightning at Miramar College, a pretty decent community college then.
Community college gets one only so far, though. In the fall of 1993, my parents and I took a Labor Day weekend road trip to check out 3 colleges I had selected: Sonoma State, Chico State, and Fresno State Universities. We trekked up I 5 through the barren wastelands of the Central Valley to Stockton, then took a somewhat nicer CA 12 to Fairfield for the night.
The next morning found us in cooler temperatures, a pleasant surprise. We drove on 12 into Napa County, seeing the hilly vineyards on a cloudy day. It was quite the pleasant surprise. The weather was the same when we got into Cotati and then the Sonoma State campus. What a beautiful place! The open feel with the trees, scattered buildings, and beautiful lawns sold me immediately. Driving toward Chico, we saw more of northern California's beauty before hitting the ugliness of I 5 again. Chico itself was ok, but there was a sense of crowding that I didn't care for. Granted it was probably a Labor Day celebration, but the point was made. Coming back down on CA 99, we passed through some towns along with the bigger Sacramento before settling for the night in Modesto. We gave Fresno a glance the next day but it was more of a courtesy glance...Sonoma State had won out!
Almost a year later, my dad and I drove up to Sonoma State for an orientation. I stayed in the dorms with some other guys. Most of the dorms, especially the older ones, were named after wines. That night I stayed in the Traminer building (short for Gewurtztraminer). The next morning we ate in the Zinfandel dining hall then met with advisors of the departments we'd be majoring in. At the Liberal Studies office, I met someone who would end up becoming a great friend to this day: Kimberly Cognac. Later that day, my dad and I made our way through the Bay Area toward Monterey and the Big Sur coast, a nice scenic alternative to 5. As I would learn later, even 101 was more scenic than 5!
In terms of my time at Sonoma State, I must say it was a great place to be at that point in life. In my first year (1994-95), I was in the Sonoma complex dorms. There I met a new assortment of people, many of whom would be long-term friends: Karen Squires, Scott Catania, Calista Archuleta, and Jennifer McPhee. The first semester went well with classes and dorm life. As a bonus, Kimberly was in one of my classes. Eating at the dining hall was always a fun experience. The dorms got to be a little loud and boisterous at times, but Scott and I often took off for the movies or random drives through the boonies.
The next semester, I was allowed to take my car there. I was also experiencing my first northern California wet winter. My drive there alone (previously chronicled) was a thrill in itself. I was also interested in getting to know Kimberly better, and we did go out a few times. Sadly, my parents' divorce that semester turned my emotions inside out for a long time, and I wasn't in the right frame for a friendly relationship for a long time. On a plus note, I made another good friend in classic rock-loving Rob Lander that winter/spring. My liberal studies courses were beginning that semester and I met another friend in Sarah Scallon.
The following year (1995-96), Rob, Scott, and I were in the on-campus apartment building Merlot. We had a 4th with us, a Tourette's- stricken poor soul named Ed. I must say I did and said stuff that year directed at Ed that I am ashamed of now. I was angry about the divorce still and somehow he became my target (not without provocation, though). Down the hall were Karen and Kimberly along with their roomies Kerenza and Lori. On the food note, we became experts at shopping frugally for the week at Food 4 Less, not going over $80. My grades slipped a bit that fall, but the next semester they were brought up and I also took on a job at the Commons as a dishwasher, bringing in some extra money. Rob, Scott, and I also partook in making a movie with Rob's camcorder. That spring, Karen and Kimberly graduated.
In the summer of 1996, Scott and I got an apartment off campus. He was working at the credit union and I was on the painting crew on campus repainting the dorms. We still shopped at Food 4 Less, but with our jobs we made a bit extra to go beyond the $80 limit at times. In the fall, Rob joined us for one semester to finish out his units. Kimberly and I saw a bit of each other (she still had a class or 2 to take), but the divorce stuff was still in my system and that didn't pan out. In terms of classes, I was having a pretty good time, even taking in a tennis class for fun. The next semester, Kimberly was gone, and I was working on my last classes for graduation. I was also volunteering in an elementary school for one of the classes. I saw a bit more of Sarah that year, but nothing ever came of that.
Graduation came in May. It was a sad departure from my home of 3 years, and a little depression set in that summer. Three years later after some time as a substitute teacher, I returned to Sonoma State for three semesters in the education program. I met some new friends there, particularly Jacqueline Rolfe and Molly Roach. It was nice to be on campus again for a little while longer, though I spent more time student teaching than being on campus for the last two semesters.
A post-script: I am friends with several people from my Sonoma State era still. I was Scott's best man and he was mine at both out weddings. I still talk to Rob from time to time and still talk to Karen and Jennifer on Facebook. As for Kimberly, she and her family moved to Vegas almost two years ago, and not only has our friendship renewed, she is also buds with Vickie and Natalie, which creates a great family feeling.
Sonoma State...a great time in life!
Saturday, July 27, 2019
The Real Prequels
I have a dream! I have a dream where our children will enjoy the prequel trilogy AS MUCH AS the original trilogy, and NOT deem it to be superior!I have a dream where the only time I hear the words "jar jar" are from a cute toddler pointing to strawberry jelly! I have a dream where CGI technology is toyed with, but ultimately goes the way of Pauly Shore's career!
Folks, sometimes it is necessary to look at something through someone else's eyes to understand just how much is really does suck. I was recently watching one of my favorite Youtube series, "Everything Wrong With", which takes popular movies and lists their "sins". In the case of the Star Wars prequel trilogy, these folks had a field day...and they were right! There were so many neat ideas alluded to in the REAL trilogy that didn't seem quite as cool when shown 20+ years later.
And why is that? Simply, way too much damn time off! After "Return of the Jedi", which wasn't exactly the gripper we thought it would be (death star 2, Ewoks, speeder chase didn't inspire so much as sell merchandise), George Lucas gave us 2 more Indiana Jones flicks ( 1 epic, 1 Kate Capshaw elongated scream, but acceptable), not to mention Howard the Duck, Labyrinth, and Radioland Murders, and the re-edited original trilogy to show off how ILM learned how to use Kid Pix and re-edit back in rejected footage.
Once he was done with that (or rather, while he was distracting his crew with that), he wrote the prequel trilogy. I am thinking he wrote it all at once during a 1 night session like cramming for the biology final...you know how that goes, confusing RNA with DNA, protozoa with amoeba, chimps with presidents...you get lost somewhere with all that work and sweat. Plus, he had forgotten that he still had a core audience who were in their 20s and 30s by then and expected the same genius.
But they didn't get genius. They got...
Midichlorians
Jar Jar
The Trade Federation (who seemed oddly Japanese in accent)
Gungans
Count Dooku
Galactic politics
General Emphysema Grievous
A shitload of bad continuity
Hayden Christensen
Bad character aging (and some lack thereof)
Qui Gon
Fake and not at all entertaining Yoda
The kids who were experiencing Star Wars for the first time thought this was it: corny characters, a shit ton of CGI, and Jar Jar. They didn't get to see the real 1977-83 movies that began it all...and set the gold standard for the series. Lucas tried to RECREATE the gold standard, which ended up being a level below bronze. He forgot some basic ideas.
Dos:
1. Obi Wan is a cool, wise warrior
2. Yoda is a funny, whimsical, yet highly wise jedi master
3. Darth Vader is a cold, calculating fearsome agent of the Empire...he doesn't whine like Dante in "Clerks"!
4. Committee meetings are kept to 2 per movie tops and BRIEF
5. Lightsaber duels have exciting BUT NOT TOO FAST ACTION (Empire set the gold standard there)
Don'ts:
1. Whining
2. Important characters coming out of nowhere with no previous mention
3. Supposedly powerful Jedi mown down too easily
4. Boring romances with too much screen time
5. Long-ass speeches putting audience members to sleep
With that, I bring you the REAL prequel saga with the original titles intact
Episode 1: A Phantom Menace
We start with a scene on Dagobah (strong with the Force) where an old Yoda-like creature who is a Jedi gets slain tragically by Darth Maul (he was totally cool so we keep him) after a fierce Force powers battle. Maul takes the Jedi's lightsaber as a trophy. He then reports this to his boss Count Dooku. Meanwhile, Jedi Knight (no padawan crap) Obi Wan Kenobi and his friend Mace Windu are putting out galactic fires on behalf of the Republic. They encounter a group of mysterious starships attacking a small group of fighters. The leader of this small group is YOUNG ADULT Anakin Skywalker who is an awesome pilot. The Jedi in this ships assist this small band in escaping, even destroying one of the starships during escape.
Obi Wan accompanies Anakin to his home planet of Tatooine, sensing his Force affinity. He also gets a load of Anakin's cantankerous moisture farmer much older brother Owen who is mad at Anakin for becoming a pilot instead of boring farming. Their mother Shmi wants her boys to be happy. One night while she is stupidly out alone at night, she is attacked by Sandpeople. Luckily, Anakin and Obi Wan rescue her, Obi Wan even gets in some lightsaber use with a fairly belligerent Tusken Raider. Anakin proves powerful in fighting a few off himself. Obi Wan convinces him that he should be a Jedi. He takes Anakin to Coruscant to meet with Yoda and ask if Anakin could be trained. Yoda gives his permission, noting how strong Anakin is with the Force.
After many training sessions at the Jedi Temple, however (with many training scenes), a wave of the mysterious starships led by Dooku appears above Coruscant, planning a siege of the entire Senate. Obi Wan, Mace Windu, and other Jedi engage these troops in an awesome blaster against lightsaber battle. Meanwhile, trainee Anakin has been assigned to protect Senators Palpatine and Padme Amidala and notices her beauty WITHOUT WHINING about being held back. Suddenly, the leader of the siege Darth Maul shows up, intending to take Padme and Palpatine prisoner. Anakin, using his freshly found Jedi powers, calls the dead Jedi's lightsaber to him and proves to be a challenge to Maul in a cool duel. However, he ends up getting a hand sliced off. Obi Wan shows up after successfully defeating the group of mysterious (hence PHANTOM) warriors and engages Maul in another duel which shows Obi Wan to be an awesome fencer. He WINS by cutting off Maul's feet. Maul suddenly vanishes and the mysterious fleet flies away in defeat. The end of the movie is a celebration of the victory, with Anakin getting a new hand. We see Palpatine is none too pleased when he looks away from the group.
Episode 2: Attack of the Clones
We open with Obi Wan and Anakin pursuing a ship from the mysterious fleet to find its source. During this pursuit, we are seeing Anakin's growing impatience and anger to take care of the bad guys, but also see fear of his mother's fate (he doesn't give a rat's ass about Owen, though). When the mystery ship docks at a city on the planet Kamino. There, they see that the pilot of the ship they were following is wearing a white outfit of armor. Not only that, they also see that others there look exactly like him! Anakin wants to attack, but Obi Wan prevents him, as it is a recon mission. However, they are noticed and taken hostage, but not before Obi Wan has alerted FUN SMILING COOL Mace Windu of their location. Windu and the Jedi clan arrive in a massive rescue of Jedi and, surprisingly, Padme Amidala who, concerned for her hero Anakin, stowed away on one of the Jedi ships.
After the rescue, Anakin feels a disturbance in the Force. He convinces Obi Wan to let him go to Tatooine to see mom. Obi Wan relents as long as Padme accompanies his student (in my version, the Jedi are NOT monks). On Tatooine, Anakin encounters toaster level 4 crusty Owen who is angry Anakin left again while mom is dying from an attack by one of the white troopers. Anakin is just in time to say goodbye as mom dies. He and Padme then travel to Mos Eisley on a clue left near the farm and finds a group of the, holy crap, CLONE TROOPERS amassed in town. All the while, he and Padme are engaged in witty dialogue written by Lawrence Kasdan, NOT George Lucas, which is indicating some deep sexual tension while keeping it PG. He lets Obi Wan know.
Obi Wan, Mace Windu, and Yoda inform Palpatine of the clone development. Palpatine pretends shock and anger and "realizes" that Count Dooku is leading this group. Obi Wan and his crew head to Tatooine where they see the ships led by Dooku. Mace Windu and other Jedi head to the planet to aid Anakin in taking out the troops while others, led by Obi Wan, steal into the head ship to deal with Dooku. Dooku is revealed to be a Sith lord and is adept with a lightsaber. While the other Jedi battle the clone troops, Obi Wan has an AWESOME duel with Dooku. Obi Wan is mildly injured when someone attacks him with a LIGHTSABER. He is revealed to be Darth Maul with new mechanical feet. Obi Wan manages to FINALLY kill him while Dooku, seeing the situation is helpless, alerts "Master" who looks remarkably like Palpatine. Dooku sets his ship to self destruct then escapes in his personal ship. Obi Wan and the gang are rescued by Mace Windu, Anakin and their successful group who wiped out the clones on the surface. At the end, we see Anakin and Padme in a not-at-all cheesy but hot embrace while we also see Palpatine seething over his defeat, but seeing his need for a new "apprentice".
Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith
We open with the Jedi raiding Kamino only to see a few remaining clones since the base was abandoned. After the last clones on the planet are eliminated, the Jedi are alerted by Senator Palpatine that Count Dooku is holding him hostage on his ship. While heading that way, Anakin is getting pretty damn frustrated over not seeing his pregnant girl Padme (not married) for a long time and is picking fights with his master Obi Wan (words, not lightsabers, not yet anyway). When they finally reach Dooku's ship, Obi Wan and Anakin fight clones in a heavy battle. Anakin senses Palpatine's presense and races to rescue him against Obi Wan's orders. Anakin and Dooku have quite the duel where Dooku tries to turn Anakin to the dark side. Anakin is getting angry and kills Dooku, pleasing the lurking Palpatine to no end. Anakin forsakes his blue lightsaber for Dooku's red one. Palpatine reveals himself to be a Sith master and starts filling Anakin's head with pretty wicked ideas as they go back to Coruscant.
Obi Wan and the crew are alerted to several clone attacks on many Republic planets. Yoda is distressed that this will make the Jedi vulnerable when spread apart but it must be done. Anakin is scaring the crap out of Padme, who does not want her child born around such anger. While Anakin is called away on business, she escapes. Anakin is increasingly under the influence of Palpatine WITHOUT ANY LONG STORIES THAT BORE US! Using a fear of losing his child, Palpatine convinces him that the Jedi are bad bad bad.
Anakin then goes on a misison with two other Jedi to Planet (put your name here) where they take on a whole troop of clones, but Anakin has been given a command to turn on his compatriots and murders them, helping the clones win. On the other planets, the clones overtake and kill the other Jedi. Obi Wan barely escapes after killing several clones, but knows he can't defeat them all after losing his buddies. Mace Windu is alerted to Palpatine's true nature by a Force disturbance and encounters him in a fierce battle of lightning vs lightsaber, during which Palpatine's kindly facade is melted away to reveal an old, evil face.. Windu is about to win when Anakin returns to his new master. His lightsaber and Palpatine's lightning are too much for Mace Windu and he dies.
In a BRIEF senate meeting, Palpatine claims rulership and ends the Republic, replacing it with the Galactic Empire. Yoda senses the remaining few Jedi have no chance and decide to hide throughout the galaxy. Yoda goes to Force-rich Dagobah, while Obi Wan decides to hide on beloved Tatooine. Before that, he visits Padme on request. On the way, his ship is damaged by angry Anakin and they botrh land on volcanic Mustafar where they engage in an EPIC and NOT TOO FAST duel of blue vs red light lightsabers. Anakin is powerful but the master Obi Wan is more powerful and knocks his now evil pupil into a hot lava pool. After a brief and not badly acted farewell, Obi Wan leaves his fallen pupil, who is rescued by Palpatine and reconstructed and supported by a heavy suit of black armor and machinery and dubbed Darth Vader.
Obi Wan visits Padme with fatherly Senator Bail Organa. She has had twins and is afraid of Anakin finding them. Obi Wan is not sure Anakin is still alive, but agrees to hide the boy Luke with Anakin's burnt toast brother Owen and his June Cleaver-like wife Beru, while Organa takes Padme and girl Leia to his home Alderaan.
The film ends with montages of the Death Star beginning construction and the new clone troopers known as stormtroopers invading planets, the mystery ships (that we know as Star Destroyers) attacking old Republic freighters....a dark end for sure, but it kind of leads to "A New Hope" better.
You see how those cinematic events glue better together? Maybe make sense? And hey, I kept in Mace Windu and Dooku. No cute creatures thrown in for kids' sake. I know I left out R2D2 and C3PO, but I suspect the original scripts from the 70s did as well, thrown in later as plot transportation specialists. You can put them in here, too.
To conclude, may the real prequel be with you!
Folks, sometimes it is necessary to look at something through someone else's eyes to understand just how much is really does suck. I was recently watching one of my favorite Youtube series, "Everything Wrong With", which takes popular movies and lists their "sins". In the case of the Star Wars prequel trilogy, these folks had a field day...and they were right! There were so many neat ideas alluded to in the REAL trilogy that didn't seem quite as cool when shown 20+ years later.
And why is that? Simply, way too much damn time off! After "Return of the Jedi", which wasn't exactly the gripper we thought it would be (death star 2, Ewoks, speeder chase didn't inspire so much as sell merchandise), George Lucas gave us 2 more Indiana Jones flicks ( 1 epic, 1 Kate Capshaw elongated scream, but acceptable), not to mention Howard the Duck, Labyrinth, and Radioland Murders, and the re-edited original trilogy to show off how ILM learned how to use Kid Pix and re-edit back in rejected footage.
Once he was done with that (or rather, while he was distracting his crew with that), he wrote the prequel trilogy. I am thinking he wrote it all at once during a 1 night session like cramming for the biology final...you know how that goes, confusing RNA with DNA, protozoa with amoeba, chimps with presidents...you get lost somewhere with all that work and sweat. Plus, he had forgotten that he still had a core audience who were in their 20s and 30s by then and expected the same genius.
But they didn't get genius. They got...
Midichlorians
Jar Jar
The Trade Federation (who seemed oddly Japanese in accent)
Gungans
Count Dooku
Galactic politics
General Emphysema Grievous
A shitload of bad continuity
Hayden Christensen
Bad character aging (and some lack thereof)
Qui Gon
Fake and not at all entertaining Yoda
The kids who were experiencing Star Wars for the first time thought this was it: corny characters, a shit ton of CGI, and Jar Jar. They didn't get to see the real 1977-83 movies that began it all...and set the gold standard for the series. Lucas tried to RECREATE the gold standard, which ended up being a level below bronze. He forgot some basic ideas.
Dos:
1. Obi Wan is a cool, wise warrior
2. Yoda is a funny, whimsical, yet highly wise jedi master
3. Darth Vader is a cold, calculating fearsome agent of the Empire...he doesn't whine like Dante in "Clerks"!
4. Committee meetings are kept to 2 per movie tops and BRIEF
5. Lightsaber duels have exciting BUT NOT TOO FAST ACTION (Empire set the gold standard there)
Don'ts:
1. Whining
2. Important characters coming out of nowhere with no previous mention
3. Supposedly powerful Jedi mown down too easily
4. Boring romances with too much screen time
5. Long-ass speeches putting audience members to sleep
With that, I bring you the REAL prequel saga with the original titles intact
Episode 1: A Phantom Menace
We start with a scene on Dagobah (strong with the Force) where an old Yoda-like creature who is a Jedi gets slain tragically by Darth Maul (he was totally cool so we keep him) after a fierce Force powers battle. Maul takes the Jedi's lightsaber as a trophy. He then reports this to his boss Count Dooku. Meanwhile, Jedi Knight (no padawan crap) Obi Wan Kenobi and his friend Mace Windu are putting out galactic fires on behalf of the Republic. They encounter a group of mysterious starships attacking a small group of fighters. The leader of this small group is YOUNG ADULT Anakin Skywalker who is an awesome pilot. The Jedi in this ships assist this small band in escaping, even destroying one of the starships during escape.
Obi Wan accompanies Anakin to his home planet of Tatooine, sensing his Force affinity. He also gets a load of Anakin's cantankerous moisture farmer much older brother Owen who is mad at Anakin for becoming a pilot instead of boring farming. Their mother Shmi wants her boys to be happy. One night while she is stupidly out alone at night, she is attacked by Sandpeople. Luckily, Anakin and Obi Wan rescue her, Obi Wan even gets in some lightsaber use with a fairly belligerent Tusken Raider. Anakin proves powerful in fighting a few off himself. Obi Wan convinces him that he should be a Jedi. He takes Anakin to Coruscant to meet with Yoda and ask if Anakin could be trained. Yoda gives his permission, noting how strong Anakin is with the Force.
After many training sessions at the Jedi Temple, however (with many training scenes), a wave of the mysterious starships led by Dooku appears above Coruscant, planning a siege of the entire Senate. Obi Wan, Mace Windu, and other Jedi engage these troops in an awesome blaster against lightsaber battle. Meanwhile, trainee Anakin has been assigned to protect Senators Palpatine and Padme Amidala and notices her beauty WITHOUT WHINING about being held back. Suddenly, the leader of the siege Darth Maul shows up, intending to take Padme and Palpatine prisoner. Anakin, using his freshly found Jedi powers, calls the dead Jedi's lightsaber to him and proves to be a challenge to Maul in a cool duel. However, he ends up getting a hand sliced off. Obi Wan shows up after successfully defeating the group of mysterious (hence PHANTOM) warriors and engages Maul in another duel which shows Obi Wan to be an awesome fencer. He WINS by cutting off Maul's feet. Maul suddenly vanishes and the mysterious fleet flies away in defeat. The end of the movie is a celebration of the victory, with Anakin getting a new hand. We see Palpatine is none too pleased when he looks away from the group.
Episode 2: Attack of the Clones
We open with Obi Wan and Anakin pursuing a ship from the mysterious fleet to find its source. During this pursuit, we are seeing Anakin's growing impatience and anger to take care of the bad guys, but also see fear of his mother's fate (he doesn't give a rat's ass about Owen, though). When the mystery ship docks at a city on the planet Kamino. There, they see that the pilot of the ship they were following is wearing a white outfit of armor. Not only that, they also see that others there look exactly like him! Anakin wants to attack, but Obi Wan prevents him, as it is a recon mission. However, they are noticed and taken hostage, but not before Obi Wan has alerted FUN SMILING COOL Mace Windu of their location. Windu and the Jedi clan arrive in a massive rescue of Jedi and, surprisingly, Padme Amidala who, concerned for her hero Anakin, stowed away on one of the Jedi ships.
After the rescue, Anakin feels a disturbance in the Force. He convinces Obi Wan to let him go to Tatooine to see mom. Obi Wan relents as long as Padme accompanies his student (in my version, the Jedi are NOT monks). On Tatooine, Anakin encounters toaster level 4 crusty Owen who is angry Anakin left again while mom is dying from an attack by one of the white troopers. Anakin is just in time to say goodbye as mom dies. He and Padme then travel to Mos Eisley on a clue left near the farm and finds a group of the, holy crap, CLONE TROOPERS amassed in town. All the while, he and Padme are engaged in witty dialogue written by Lawrence Kasdan, NOT George Lucas, which is indicating some deep sexual tension while keeping it PG. He lets Obi Wan know.
Obi Wan, Mace Windu, and Yoda inform Palpatine of the clone development. Palpatine pretends shock and anger and "realizes" that Count Dooku is leading this group. Obi Wan and his crew head to Tatooine where they see the ships led by Dooku. Mace Windu and other Jedi head to the planet to aid Anakin in taking out the troops while others, led by Obi Wan, steal into the head ship to deal with Dooku. Dooku is revealed to be a Sith lord and is adept with a lightsaber. While the other Jedi battle the clone troops, Obi Wan has an AWESOME duel with Dooku. Obi Wan is mildly injured when someone attacks him with a LIGHTSABER. He is revealed to be Darth Maul with new mechanical feet. Obi Wan manages to FINALLY kill him while Dooku, seeing the situation is helpless, alerts "Master" who looks remarkably like Palpatine. Dooku sets his ship to self destruct then escapes in his personal ship. Obi Wan and the gang are rescued by Mace Windu, Anakin and their successful group who wiped out the clones on the surface. At the end, we see Anakin and Padme in a not-at-all cheesy but hot embrace while we also see Palpatine seething over his defeat, but seeing his need for a new "apprentice".
Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith
We open with the Jedi raiding Kamino only to see a few remaining clones since the base was abandoned. After the last clones on the planet are eliminated, the Jedi are alerted by Senator Palpatine that Count Dooku is holding him hostage on his ship. While heading that way, Anakin is getting pretty damn frustrated over not seeing his pregnant girl Padme (not married) for a long time and is picking fights with his master Obi Wan (words, not lightsabers, not yet anyway). When they finally reach Dooku's ship, Obi Wan and Anakin fight clones in a heavy battle. Anakin senses Palpatine's presense and races to rescue him against Obi Wan's orders. Anakin and Dooku have quite the duel where Dooku tries to turn Anakin to the dark side. Anakin is getting angry and kills Dooku, pleasing the lurking Palpatine to no end. Anakin forsakes his blue lightsaber for Dooku's red one. Palpatine reveals himself to be a Sith master and starts filling Anakin's head with pretty wicked ideas as they go back to Coruscant.
Obi Wan and the crew are alerted to several clone attacks on many Republic planets. Yoda is distressed that this will make the Jedi vulnerable when spread apart but it must be done. Anakin is scaring the crap out of Padme, who does not want her child born around such anger. While Anakin is called away on business, she escapes. Anakin is increasingly under the influence of Palpatine WITHOUT ANY LONG STORIES THAT BORE US! Using a fear of losing his child, Palpatine convinces him that the Jedi are bad bad bad.
Anakin then goes on a misison with two other Jedi to Planet (put your name here) where they take on a whole troop of clones, but Anakin has been given a command to turn on his compatriots and murders them, helping the clones win. On the other planets, the clones overtake and kill the other Jedi. Obi Wan barely escapes after killing several clones, but knows he can't defeat them all after losing his buddies. Mace Windu is alerted to Palpatine's true nature by a Force disturbance and encounters him in a fierce battle of lightning vs lightsaber, during which Palpatine's kindly facade is melted away to reveal an old, evil face.. Windu is about to win when Anakin returns to his new master. His lightsaber and Palpatine's lightning are too much for Mace Windu and he dies.
In a BRIEF senate meeting, Palpatine claims rulership and ends the Republic, replacing it with the Galactic Empire. Yoda senses the remaining few Jedi have no chance and decide to hide throughout the galaxy. Yoda goes to Force-rich Dagobah, while Obi Wan decides to hide on beloved Tatooine. Before that, he visits Padme on request. On the way, his ship is damaged by angry Anakin and they botrh land on volcanic Mustafar where they engage in an EPIC and NOT TOO FAST duel of blue vs red light lightsabers. Anakin is powerful but the master Obi Wan is more powerful and knocks his now evil pupil into a hot lava pool. After a brief and not badly acted farewell, Obi Wan leaves his fallen pupil, who is rescued by Palpatine and reconstructed and supported by a heavy suit of black armor and machinery and dubbed Darth Vader.
Obi Wan visits Padme with fatherly Senator Bail Organa. She has had twins and is afraid of Anakin finding them. Obi Wan is not sure Anakin is still alive, but agrees to hide the boy Luke with Anakin's burnt toast brother Owen and his June Cleaver-like wife Beru, while Organa takes Padme and girl Leia to his home Alderaan.
The film ends with montages of the Death Star beginning construction and the new clone troopers known as stormtroopers invading planets, the mystery ships (that we know as Star Destroyers) attacking old Republic freighters....a dark end for sure, but it kind of leads to "A New Hope" better.
You see how those cinematic events glue better together? Maybe make sense? And hey, I kept in Mace Windu and Dooku. No cute creatures thrown in for kids' sake. I know I left out R2D2 and C3PO, but I suspect the original scripts from the 70s did as well, thrown in later as plot transportation specialists. You can put them in here, too.
To conclude, may the real prequel be with you!
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