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!
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