Yes, I'm Still Here

Wow...yeah, it's been a little while since my last post. I've certainly been writing--just haven't transferred the stuff to this here blog yet. Life happens, you know? But material is coming your way, so look out, readers! All 7 of you. I hope nobody has a heart attack from sheer shock at seeing that Ryan Zanoni has actually posted something new, or thinks that my blog has been hacked. No, it's really me, I assure you. This little post here is an announcement that I'm still alive, and not only alive but also posting again. How about that? Like a phoenix rising from the ashes--nope, not gonna do that. It's too late in the night for similes. I'm tired and ready for bed. Like Odysseus after returning home from a long, treacherous voyage at sea, following battles and numerous brushes with death, and killing the suitors who attempted to win the affections of his wife. My day was sort of similar to Odysseus': After a long, treacherous week of work at my office writing job, I woke up this morning, completed a forty-five minute weightlifting workout, bathed, brought my TV on a voyage to the repair shop, went on another voyage to purchase a spaghetti squash and parmesan cheese for dinner, watched some comedy on my tablet, and then realized I had not posted on my blog in two years. Hmmm. Looks like I actually did more than Odysseus. C'mon, Odysseus. Work on your time management. Do you even know what a tablet is? No, I'm not talking about stones. God, Odysseus! Really? Anyway, I wish you all a happy and healthy New Year, and I look forward to sharing many more of my thoughts and feelings with you as 2013 rolls on. And please, tell your family, friends and colleagues about my blog and encourage them to check it out!

Strange Habits

I was watching Rachael Ray this morning. Okay, let me rephrase. I was...doing something else, and Rachael Ray's show was on, and I overheard...okay, I was watching Rachael Ray, and I saw something quite peculiar. A woman was talking about her addiction to eating toilet paper. There was plenty of video of her consuming bathroom tissue in significant quantities. She keeps a roll in her glove compartment, for a snack on the road. She keeps some in a bag in her purse. She has eaten over one thousand pounds of toilet paper over twenty-three years.
Questions. Well, there's the obvious one: What the hell is it about toilet paper that this woman craves? She says she loves the way it melts in her mouth. She likes the feel of it against her tongue.
Next: How did she find out that she liked eating toilet paper? I'm not sure if this was answered in the segment, but I would sure like to know. It seems to me there is only one way to find out: Try eating some. But why? What would possess a person to even try eating toilet paper? You're sitting there, on the toilet, getting ready to wrap up your business, and you think, "Hmmm, I wonder what it would be like to eat this stuff..." Wow. Why doesn't she just eat cotton candy if she likes the feel of something with that kind of texture melting in her mouth?
She says, and I paraphrase, "I want people to know that I'm a regular person, like them. I just like eating toilet paper." Sure. I mean, other than that, we probably have a lot in common.
Somewhere out there, a man was watching that segment and smiling, tears shimmering in his eyes as he gently folded sheets of toilet paper onto his tongue and said, "I've found the one."

Cleaning Up After The Holidays

I love that, when trying to dispose of my Christmas tree today, I used about four trash bags, a huge paper bag, four plastic shopping bags and the plastic packaging from two bulk packs of toilet paper, taped together with an entire roll of scotch tape to look like some sort of homeless monster trying to cover himself against the cold--only to realize, after taking this unsightly mess down to the trash collection site in my building, that I had a large heavy-duty trash bag sitting under my sink...right next to the smaller trash bags of which I had used half a box to make my shoddy patchwork quilt. Awesome.

Riding the Train

Here's something I just don't understand: People getting on trains with no money. What do they think is going to happen? I would really like to know. Saw three young men do this last night. Got on at Grand Central Station in Manhattan and apparently were looking for a free ride to Dobbs Ferry, forty minutes away. Such a ticket would have cost roughly eight or nine dollars one-way. When the conductor asked them for their tickets, they said they had lost them. When she said they'd have to pay the on-train ticket price, which is nearly double the in-advance price, they said they had no money on them. No money. She told them they would have to get off at the next stop, get some money, and wait for the next train. What the hell were they thinking? Did they think they would get a vote of sympathy from the conductor? They did nothing to try to win one. Did they think they could just say,'Put it on my tab' and the MTA would bill them later? Clearly, these people are just idiots or they have never ridden a train before. I would love to know what's going on inside these people's heads--but I'm thinking I already know: Nothing.
Now, having said that, let me criticize the MTA: How dare you charge DOUBLE the ticket price for on-board purchases? I understand you wish to deter people from buying on-board because there are often a lot of people on the train, and this way the conductor just has to collect and click tickets and hand out seat checks. Convenient for him or her. Convenient for you. Saves time. Guess what? Not convenient for US. We try to buy our tickets in advance, we really do, because most of us know that you go for the jugular with your on-board prices. But sometimes, it just doesn't work out, y'know? Sometimes, we're running late, for whatever reason, and we just didn't have time to purchase the ticket in advance, and maybe we're not currently riding often enough to purchase a ten-trip or a monthly ticket in advance. Maybe we're unemployed and going in for job interviews. And for this, we get screwed with DOUBLE the fare? How is that just? Charge a few dollars extra if you want a deterrent--not a one hundred percent (or nearly that) markup! Especially when you raise your prices like everyone else and then cut certain train lines and expect all of us to just deal with it. Stop ripping us off. And just so you know, it's been quite a while since I've had to pay an on-board fare, so I'm not writing this in the heat of passion after being ripped off myself. I'm writing for everyone who rides the train. That's all I've got to say, dammit.

Tantrums

So I'm watching the Rachael Ray show this morning...yes, I'm a male watching the Rachael Ray show. I'm unemployed. Don't judge me. Anyway, the segment is on "Adult Tantrums." Yes, adults acting like small children, losing their tempers and lashing out irrationally. A clip was just shown; picture this: A grown woman, standing outside a McDonald's drive-thru window and flipping out because they were not serving chicken McNuggets at the time she wanted them. She is yelling and even hitting the employees inside the restaurant. Repeatedly.
What is wrong with this woman? Is she mentally unstable? I think that's an understatement. Either that or she is having one of the worst days of her life, everything is crumbling around her, and she's just unleashing a rage that has been building up for a while.
I'll admit, chicken McNuggets are pretty tasty--until you are made aware of what's actually inside them. Watch "Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution" and you'll see what I'm talking about. Maybe if she saw that, she wouldn't be assaulting people to get her McNuggets. Then again, if she's the type of person who's going to do that, she probably would anyway.
If there's ever a point in one's life when one has to really take a step back and evaluate oneself, I think it's when one begins assaulting restaurant employees for not selling fake chicken at certain times.

Writing Services

Everyone,
I'm offering my writing skills to anyone in need of help. Whether you or someone you know needs or wants help writing resumes, cover letters or follow-up correspondence for jobs, query letters to send to literary agencies or publishers, papers for school or work, speeches, thank-you notes for holiday, birthday or any-time gifts, or a proofreader/editor for your own creative work, I can help! I've got many years' experience in writing, proofreading and editing, and graduated magna cum laude with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English from Boston University. I've written tons of cover letters and many prospective employers have praised them as outstanding; I've even had interviewers tell me that they called me in primarily based on my cover letter. I know how to write a letter that will really stand out from the crowd, which is so important in these tough economic times when so many people are competing for work. I know how to highlight your relevant skills and experience and express them eloquently, as well as how to use humor to spice up your letters and give your readers (and potential interviewers) a break from the monotony of reading stacks of boring, cookie-cutter cover letters. I've written many research and analytical papers and a fictional web series that is in development, and I am working on two screenplays and a book right now.

Rates:

$5/page for proofreading/editing
$15/page for writing resumes and cover letters
$5/letter or note for writing follow-up correspondence, e.g., a thank-you note to the interviewer, or thank-you notes for gifts, etc.
$16/hour to discuss your work, my corrections/suggestions, or my work done on your behalf.

I will require full payment up-front.

I'm happy to work with electronic versions of your work or hard-copy versions, whichever you prefer. I will pay return postage up to $2.00 if you choose to send me a hard copy. For anything that costs over $2.00 to send, I will require payment for the overage up-front.

Please make payment via Paypal, if possible. Here's a link:

https://www.paypal.com/

If not, you may pay by check made out to "Ryan Zanoni." I'll let you know the address when we talk business.

I am more than happy to send you samples of my own writing upon request. I'll also gladly send a letter of recommendation and/or list of references, if desired. Just ask!

Please inform your friends, loved ones and acquaintances!

I look forward to hearing from you. Happy New Year! I hope 2011 brings you plenty of joy, love, peace and prosperity.

Best,

Ryan Zanoni
rjzanoni@yahoo.com
203-927-0981 (cell)

Bob Dylan & Christmas

Let me start by saying I love Bob Dylan's music. I think he's truly a genius, one of the greatest songwriters/poets of all time.
However, to me, this does not mean he should sing Christmas carols. If you have not heard this, or even if you have, just to remind you, please indulge:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8qE6WQmNus

Am I the only one who finds it sad that when you type 'Must Be Santa' into YouTube's search field, 'Bob Dylan' is the first artist name that comes up after it?

I think we can all agree that it's probably not completely in keeping with the spirit of Christmas for children to hear the songs of Ol' St. Nick being sung in a low, gravelly voice that calls to mind a homeless, wandering vagrant stumbling through the streets, a Colt 45 malt beverage wrapped in a brown paper bag in one hand, a smoking blunt in the other, crooning to himself and anyone else who will listen as he searches for a place to sleep. It might scare them a bit.

Once again, Bob's amazing, and I love his truly inspired and inspirational work, but let's leave the caroling to every other famous singer who does it year after year on every basic cable television station for the month or so leading up to Christmas. I think kids should probably become young adults, at least, before they hear Ol' St. Bob. And they should probably go deaf before they hear Ol' St. Bob sing any Christmas songs.

A Simple Request

Is it too much to ask for grocery stores to put all items where they belong? Not ALMOST all, or NEARLY all...just ALL. I mean, isn't that the job of a grocery store? To have things in their proper places? That was the impression I was under, anyway. Then why, pray tell, are the corn tortillas in Stop & Shop on the OPPOSITE side of the store from all the other tortillas?! There's a whole section of tortillas, right near the deli. So, naturally, I look there first. I carefully check each stack of tortillas, and all of them are made with wheat. Even the tomato and basil ones that are orange. Okay, I say to myself. I've been in this situation before. Except last time, Stop & Shop didn't have the corn tortillas at all. So, after searching every conceivable shelf in the store and concluding that they were nowhere to be found, I headed over to the A&P grocery store...where the corn tortillas were also absent. I finally found them at De Cicco's market. Three stores for a package of corn tortillas. Does that seem right to you?
So back to the story at hand. I say to myself, dammit, I better not have to go to two other stores to find these damn things again. They aren't even that good! They fall apart as soon as you try to roll them up with anything inside. Very poorly made. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of food I try to pack inside them, but I still say it's shoddy work! Anyway, my fiance has an allergy to gluten and wheat products, so I need to get them for her, and she's well worth the effort, so I just patiently trek through the store looking for them.
Oh, I say. There's some pizza crust on a shelf. Perhaps the corn tortillas are hanging out there. I insert myself between a couple of customers and rifle through the contents of the shelf to find NO corn tortillas. This is not looking good, I say.
Then, I remember my fiance telling me last time, after my three-store corn crusade, that they are often found in the Natural Foods section. Well, great, where the hell is that? Of course it's on the opposite end of the store from the rest of the tortillas. But there they are, sure enough.
Tell me, please, Stop & Shop, how is corn considered natural and wheat not? Are both not grown? I guess the wheat ones have more artificial ingredients or something like that. Generally, the list of ingredients on the wheat ones does include more items, some of which sound very scientific, than the list of ingredients on the corn tortillas, which usually includes corn and one or two other things. But I still don't think that justifies putting them a store apart from one another. And I'd like to know how you live with yourself, Stop & Shop.

Words You Never Thought You'd See in a Job Posting

Another Craigslist posting to which I had to draw your attention, this one is for a feature film. I've included just the last part of it:

"We need all types of people to reflect the shit hole that is Newark.... and really bring it to life on the big screen. So the more felonies you have on your record the better!"

So, all you felons out there, who have lamented your plight again and again on job application after job application where you have had to fill out your criminal history and explain it in detail and read the company's words saying that your criminal record will not necessarily disqualify you for the job and know that despite this, you are starting out at an automatic disadvantage...all of you, flock to this job posting, and be glad:

A "Job Posting" You Have To See

Wow. I don't even know how to introduce this "job posting" I came across on Craigslist, which is quite the wild card, because you're as likely to find a legitimate job prospect there as you are a serial killer or someone with a superglue fetish looking for playmates. This is the strangest and potentially one of the most disturbing posts I've seen. Take a look.



I included the link because I wanted to prove to you that this was real, that I wasn't making it up. I know you trust me, but still, this is so outrageous that I just had to show you that someone actually put this up as an ad online. Here, if you prefer, is the copied and pasted version:

"Paid Improv at Family Home (My Family's House)

Ok. So Listen, I REALLY need to laugh this Christmas. I need it. Seriously. Here's my idea. You come with me to my house for Christmas pretending to be a character. It may be one you want to work on, or one that is invented together, we can discuss it on the way. I figure somwhere in there, at the very least, mention in some manner to my very religious and conservative family, that you love the nazis, or were a stripper-ninja or something interesting. Oh, and that God doesn't exist. Definitely. Or something to stir up some hilarious and non-hurtful controversy. So I guess you not only have to be a girl but also some form of atheist-stripper-nazi.

I'm telling you it's a trip. We'll make it up as we go along. Anyway, I'd do it for you. In fact, that's the deal, I'll go with you to one of yours, if you want. It'll be fun!

I'm a guy, so it may be easier to explain to my parents that this is a new girlfriend, rather then the alternative where I come out of the closet to my parents. - Man, that would be dedication. - But, for right now, I'd rather they not have heartattacks BOTH. Who would be left to entertain me? Anyway, even though you should be a girl, this is not a date! It's an experiment. An exploration. Did I mention that I NEED to laugh this Christmas? Sure, I think I did. This is a paid gig. If what I'm offering is not enough, tell me what you would do it for. I'm flexible. Improv skills welcome.

Ok. So Understand the concept? If you're still reading, this must be interesting to you. I plan to record most of it and cull a play out of it somehow. So this is a chance to do some co-writing as well. Anyway, I think I've explained enough. So, if you are just sitting around NYC during the holidays and want to join in on some experimental theatre, give me a holler. The days would be consecutive Dec 22-28th. Overnight stays at my family's but no Hanky. And no Panky. Really.

Unless you want to. But I'd have to think about it. But probably not much. No but then I wouldn't. But then I would be thinking about it all night, so I would probably try in the middle of the night when you would already be sleeping and freak you out. Then I would apologize and FINALLY go to sleep. Then we would(hopefully) laugh about it the next day. Or right now. Or... not.

This is a tough challenge for an actor.You really have to be this part. My parents have to believe you. My sister has to believe you and she is very observant. The stakes are high, because feelings could get hurt if it's not believeableand true. It's a worthy challenge for any actress. Plus, it'll be fun! Did I already mention that?

C'mon do it. Take a risk. Do something no-one's ever thought of to do before. It'll be fun! Or maybe not! Either way, It'll be fun!

Please send a current headshot or photo. Better current than headshot. Cheers!"

Okay, I'm not even going to touch the part about "Hanky" and "Panky" and his telling the potential applicants that he will likely crawl into bed with them. Is this guy for real? Does he actually expect to get ANYONE to reply to this ad? I seriously believe that only a completely delusional, psychotic, or in some other way mentally-diseased person would apply for something like this. Is this not one of the creepiest things you've ever seen?

I'm not going to touch on the fact that he's basically offering to pay people for a performance plus perhaps a little extra, which is coming dangerously close to prostitution, and I'm not going to touch on it any more than I have because it frankly makes my skin crawl to think that there are people who post ads like this out there, walking free in the world. This is unsettling. It is disturbing enough that he is inviting girls (and he does say "you not only have to be a girl but also some form of atheist-stripper-nazi") for "Overnight stays at my family's." That alone is just plain creepy and I firmly advise all girls to steer far clear of this and all similar ads.

This is the unfortunate reason Craigslist has developed the reputation it has. It is a shame, because there are legitimate posts by legitimate, moral and respectable people; but there are also lots of these. However, I have not seen any quite like this.

If the guy really wanted to just play a joke on his family, here's a bit of advice for him: Ask someone you know. Obviously, someone your family doesn't know. But someone you know, someone who knows you are not a serial killer or deranged sexual deviant. Someone who knows you are just a person looking for a laugh, who loves to play practical jokes. That way, they won't fear that by going to your family's house, they will wind up becoming some kind of sex slave tied up in your attic. Or a piece of furniture. Do you see what I'm saying? Do you understand why you shouldn't have posted this online? Think about it from the perspective of the girls you are seeking. Really.

Maybe this guy is really a super-nice, honest and respectful guy who just wants to play a great practical joke on his family. But the way he's presenting himself and this offer is definitely not reflecting that. It sounds like he is looking for a new girlfriend, but trying to disguise it by presenting it as an offer to pay a girl to pretend to be his girlfriend. Then, when he's got her right where he wants her, he will try to make her his girlfriend--or worse.

Dude, whoever you are, I hope you are not a crazy killer, and I hope that if you happen to read this, it helps you to realize that this is not something you should be posting. I mean no offense. I'm just trying to help.

I don't recommend that anyone reply to this post, even just to reiterate what I've said here. It is better not to respond at all if you do not know the type of person with whom you are dealing. I just wanted to make you all aware of this.

Cheap Umbrellas

What is the deal with cheap, crappy umbrellas? Why are they so terribly made? I was outside in the parking lot of Stop & Shop today, putting my groceries in the trunk of the car and holding an umbrella. There was a moderate, slightly forceful wind and some slanting rain. All of a sudden, there is a gust of wind, the umbrella inverts and promptly snaps off at the handle. The broken end flips over and sticks into my shirt, right above my shoulder. It takes me about a full minute to get it out without ripping my shirt. Can you believe that? That thing could have stuck into my neck had it been a few inches to the left. I've had umbrellas snap in half before, but only in very heavy winds, and I've never had them stick into my clothing before. It's like the umbrella took on an evil mind of its own and attacked me. Manufacturer of cheap-ass umbrellas, if you are reading this, I want you to know I am very unhappy with you. All I'm going to say is that there is such a thing as karma, and it's coming for you. That is not a threat. I don't have to do anything. You will be undone by one of your own umbrellas, if there is any justice at all in this cruel world.

Snow Play

Brrr...it is colder than a witch's tit on ice out there. Why isn't it, 'colder than a witch's heart?' Why is it 'tit'? Well, that's another matter. Oh, I remember the days in my youth when, after high school gym class, we would tear off our shirts (well, the guys, anyway) and dive onto a huge mound of dirty snow in the parking lot. Ah, what fun that was. Hot bare skin against freezing snow. Good thing we only stayed there for a few seconds before running back inside screaming "Holy sh** it's cold!" Otherwise, we would probably have died of hypothermia. Eventually.
Anyway, I remember other good times in the snow. Like eating it! And then my mom telling me only to eat the white snow, not the colored stuff. This was way before high school, of course. I knew better than to eat pee-soaked snow by the time I was fourteen, thank you very much!
And sledding. The best times of the season were spent sledding. My friend Pat and I would go down this super-steep, long hill that had three dips on the way down and terminated in the road. We would always bail before we hit the last drop. Well, almost always. There were times when we just didn't quite make it off the sled. Those were the fun times, the DANGEROUS times. The times when you really felt the rush. I remember landing on the shoulder of the road as a truck whizzed by about a foot away from my head. Now that's living.
Then there were the times we managed to just barely grab hold of a tree and hang there while our sleds rocketed on into the street, skidding across the roof or windshield of a passing car. This was followed by screeching brakes, and us scrambling and sprinting towards the house.
Then, with my buddies, Drew and Tom, I would attempt other acts of derring-do and recklessness, including piling all three of us onto a training snowboard however we could fit and descending at full speed down a hill towards whatever fate awaited us. The challenge, of course, was to see who could last the longest before falling off. And for the very brave--us, of course--there was the HEAD-FIRST descent. This worked better on a sled, generally speaking, than on a circular saucer or inner-tube, but we tried them all. It was generally okay--until you hit the big bump, or "jump" as we called it, with your groin instead of your buttocks. The first half of the ride was generally more fun than the second for this reason, as you can imagine.
At my own home, we had quite the wild time jumping the fence on our sleds or snowboards or tubes. My dad would plow the snow right up against the fence, to the top, so that if we gained enough speed on the descent, we would fly, or flop, at least, right over the fence and into our own backyard. What great fun that was. Until, of course, we got a bit too heavy and the fence suffered a fracture. A fracture which was then exacerbated when I tried my hand at the plow and went just a little too far.
Ever try this one? I was feeling particularly daring (foolish) one day and thought, why not put one foot on one sled and one on another and go downhill on both simultaneously, like a cowboy riding two horses in the Wild West? I know why NOW, of course, but it didn't cross my mind then. See, try as you might to match them up, the sleds rarely go at the same speed the whole way down. The effect is something akin to a split, if you're lucky, or the breaking of a wishbone, if you are not. Fortunately, I only had to experience the split before I realized that this was probably not the best decision I had ever made. But it was fun.
What about snowball fights? Lame, I know. A snowball fight is nothing compared to a snowball WAR. With competing armies behind barricades (of snow) and a wide open swath of "No Man's Land." Some would say a ski-mask is always best for this type of warfare, but I say the vision you have to sacrifice and the risk of looking like a fool if it doesn't fit right outweigh any positives. Besides, how are you going to get a scar (or an eye patch) to show off to the ladies or to your enemies in the next snowball war, if you've got a face mask to protect you from that lump of ice in your enemy's projectile?
A note: I do not recommend challenging a good baseball pitcher or team of them to a snowball war. However, if they challenge you, you of course must accept. You must never back down. You must fight, even if that means you and your whole army go down, dead to the last man. It is the Snowballer's Code. To back down is to heap endless shame upon yourself, your family, and your unborn children. It also shows poor Christmas spirit. What would baby Jesus think of someone who backs down from a challenge?
Regardless of the type of snow play, it always ended in drinking hot cocoa, sometimes with marshmallows or even graham crackers, while warming our frostbitten feet by the fire. Ahh, nostalgia.
Yeah, I'll probably repeat all that again this year.

Cell Phones

Here is something I simply do not understand: Why do people take so damn long to answer their cell phones? Is it really that hard? Does it really take that long to figure out its your phone when you hear it ringing very loudly and, coincidentally, right next to you? And when everyone around you is glaring, exhaling loudly, and rolling his or her eyes at you? Take a hint much, buddy? And have you noticed that the people who take forever to answer their damn phones are always the ones who've got the worst ringtones, the most obnoxious ones imaginable, and have their volume set to ear-splitting? Then, when they finally do answer the thing, they do so in a voice so loud, you would think they were not even using a phone, but rather, just trying to yell loudly enough to make the other person hear them hundreds of miles away? Why is this? Why do they talk so loudly? Is it because they are also the most hard-of-hearing people? Did they grow up in families where their parents yelled at people on the phone all the time, so they were taught that this is acceptable and proper and were also bereft of their hearing as a result? Now they can't hear a damn thing, so they yell without realizing it. This would also explain why it takes them so long to answer their calls.
I, for one, always make a conscious effort to answer my phone on the first or second ring, or as close to that as possible, or to silence it immediately by pressing--listen up here, people--the volume control. Yes, that's right. You can also hit 'ignore.' Whatever you like. Or, you can go on doing what you do now, which is stare at the phone like some kind of idiot, debating whether or not to answer it, or perhaps trying to recall whether or not you know who is calling you, or maybe trying to GUESS who it might be based on the area code and who you know in that area, while the rest of us just sit and wait, forced to endure your inane, godawful ring tone at a volume that would make Alexander Graham Bell roll over in his grave. What is wrong with you?
Another thing: Put your phone in an easily-accessible place, i.e., NOT the very bottom of your purse where it takes you so long to find it that the obnoxious ringtone completes its painful cycle and is replaced by your even more obnoxious (how?! I don't know!) voicemail notification, because--that's right--you took so damn long to press your mobile device to your ear that the caller actually had time to leave a voicemail.
Then, you decide you need to call the person back RIGHT NOW and yell at the top of your lungs like you're an airplane technician and there's a jet engine roaring right next to you. A little, gentle, polite reminder: There are other people around you. You are not alone. Please remember this. And if you can't use a cell phone courteously and responsibly, DON'T USE ONE! Give it to someone who can handle it! You know, I think some people should honestly be required to take a course on proper cell phone etiquette. Upon successful completion, they can obtain a 'Speaker's Permit,' with a probationary period of six weeks where they are tested for various qualities, like idiocy, obnoxiousness, self-awareness, loudness, etc. If they successfully complete this test, and are thus deemed fit to carry and use a cell phone, they are given a license to speak, which can and will be revoked if necessary. Having to use a landline for even just a day will remind them of how thankful they should be to have a cell phone and the right to use one. Maybe then they will think of others in public places.

The Holidays

Well, it's the holiday season. And I feel obligated to write something about it. Not that I really have anything to say. But what would people say if I wrote nothing about the holidays during this time? I shudder to think. So here I am. I suppose there are some things I could say.
I was in the elevator today with someone who works in the building where I live. I asked him something like "Ready for the holidays?" You know, one of those types of things we always say when searching for something to say in the elevator to someone we don't know all that well. His reaction was interesting. He said, "Oh, yeah, tryin' to. So much pressure. Tryin' to give the right gifts, figuring out how to afford them, rushing around everywhere. Put me six feet under, man."
I believe that's the first time I've heard someone welcome death in response to the holidays. I said, "C'mon, man, the holidays are supposed to be a happy time," and at that point he did say he was thankful for his wife and kids and all the blessings he had. But after saying he wished he were dead. I mean, I think he was exaggerating, but still, isn't it sad that people have this type of response to a season which is supposed to bring joy and love to everyone? I feel as though people stress the importance of focusing on family and the things that really matter (instead of the things that stress us) every year, and yet plenty of others still sweat the shopping and the presents and the party-planning and cooking. Something's wrong here. The easy answer is to make Christmas less commercial and bring it back to its roots. A Christmas tree and presents, while I really enjoy having them each year, are not really symbols of Jesus. Okay, yes, Jesus got presents on his first birthday, but that's because he was Jesus. Other children and adults are not Jesus. As for the tree, I'm not really sure why that came about. I'm sure there's a reason, and sometime I'll go find out what it is. But not now.
Chanukah is far less commercialized than Christmas, but people still run around like maniacs trying to get gifts for it. And I don't know enough about Kwanzaa and any other holidays that may be celebrated at this time to write anything about them. Well, there you have it. Happy Holidays, everyone, and please try to focus on what they really mean and not let that get lost in the hustle-bustle of gift-shopping and party-planning.

Infidelity

Did anyone see that news segment this morning about the co-hosts of that Daystar Christian Television Network? Well, the male host came on to acknowledge his past infidelity and talk about it, after there was a whole scheme devised by several people to blackmail him, but I'm not going to get into all the details of that. What I wish to discuss is an interesting point raised by the couple's counselor and friend. Good Morning America showed a clip of the couple at counseling with this friend, who was trying to help put things in perspective for the two troubled lovers. He said, and I paraphrase, "Okay, Marcus made a mistake, once, and was unfaithful, but it was with a woman. It wasn't with a man, it wasn't with a transvestite, it was a woman."
Hmmm.
Where do I begin? Aside from being a spectacularly weird statement, it is also not, in my opinion, a good defense of what Marcus did. How is cheating with a woman better than cheating with a man, transvestite, animal, alien or anyone else? I don't know, and I can't see how this would make Marcus's wife, Joni, feel any better. I believe what the man was trying to say was that, at least, Marcus was not breaking the Christian rule of having sexual or romantic relations exclusively with members of the opposite sex. So he was only breaking one rule, that of remaining faithful, and not two.
But if he had cheated with a transvestite, would that necessarily be breaking the rule of exclusivity? A transvestite is not a transgendered person; a transvestite is merely someone who dresses up as a member of the opposite sex, like the hilarious British comedian Eddie Izzard. So if Marcus had had an affair with a transvestite who was a woman dressed as a man, he would still be having relations with a woman, and thus would not be breaking the rule. Unless there is a rule in the
Bible of which I am not aware forbidding one from having relations with someone dressed as a member of the opposite sex. It may be in there; I don't know. If his partner in crime were a man dressed as a woman, then yes, this would be breaking the rule, since the person would still be a man.
Now, say the person was transgendered; would Marcus be breaking the rule then? How could one tell? The person is in between genders. Does the Bible have a rule about that? I don't think so. I highly doubt that being in-between genders is something that would even have been dreamed of at the time the Bible was written. Maybe there is a way to measure which gender the person embodies more; if the person is at least 51% male, then I suppose having relations with this person would be breaking the exclusivity rule. However, if he/she is 50% or less male, then you must acquit!

Hypocrisy!

Have you seen the commercials about how much food is wasted every day or every week or month or year in this country or state or city? I just saw one that I found particularly troubling. It took place in a New York City subway station. A young lady was walking and talking to the camera when a train arrived filled with green apples. The doors opened and tons of apples spilled out everywhere. The mysterious disembodied voice emanating from the PA system announced, "Every day, [however many] pounds of food are wasted in this city. Go to [website] to learn more and help stop the waste!" But the makers of that commercial just wasted, oh, I don't know, hundreds if not thousands of pounds of apples to make that statement. So how is that helping? Okay, yes, it may make people more aware of waste and help to curb such waste in the future. But they still wasted a ton of food. Unless...wait a minute...unless the apples were fake! Like those false apples you see in people's fruit baskets in their houses, which are put there to make the people seem more health-conscious than they really are. And sometimes they look so real that you pick one up and start to polish it and it's not until you actually take a bite that you realize you've been duped. Oh, c'mon, I'm not the only one that's happened to! Anyway, back to my point--I don't think these apples were fake. They certainly looked and sounded like real apples as they tumbled out of the train and fell on the cold stone floor as I watched, helplessly, from my living room. Granny Smith, wherever she is, is crying her eyes out right now. Or rolling in her grave if she has passed away. I just don't know. Never had the pleasure of meeting her. Well, I think I've made my point.

...With The Stars

So I'm not sure how many of you are aware now, but the popular TV show "Dancing with the Stars" has inspired a spin-off: "Skating with the Stars." Now I would think that has got to be a bit more challenging. Unless you are a champion skater. In which case you would not be eligible for the competition, out of fairness to the other contestants. To skate and dance at the same time? That's gotta be tough. But that's not the point I'm trying to make here. The point is...where is this "with the Stars" business going to end? What's next? "Cooking with the Stars?" "Marathon Running with the Stars"? How about "Nascar with the Stars"? I'm full of ideas. Come on, Hollywood. Give me a chance. I could make a killer hit out of "Wife Swap with the Stars".

Email

Have you taken a look in your spam folder recently? Perhaps you should. You really might get a kick out of what you find there. I happen to get a lot of spam. I'm not sure why. I don't go to pornographic web sites. I know that's what you're thinking, so let's just nip that one in the bud, shall we? But seriously, I get a lot of spam, and some of it is just ridiculous. I used to get these messages about growing giant blueberries. I never opened them, obviously, because who knows what kind of computer-destroying or identity-stealing viruses might have awaited me inside? But I could tell from the subject line what the message was about, because it would say "Grow Giant Blueberries" or "Increase the Size of your Blueberries Tenfold!" or some other ludicrous thing. Who the hell is trying to grow giant blueberries? Well, apparently someone. I mean, how else do they get that "World's Largest Blueberry" and similar attractions? I don't know if there really is a world's largest blueberry. I mean, obviously, there is, somewhere, but I'm not sure if it is an attraction. But you get the picture.
Anyway, I can understand why blueberries and male enhancement drugs end up in my spam folder...but why do messages from myself? That's right. I email myself a message...from myself...and it ends up in my spam folder. And not at the top either, sometimes. It quite often ends up a few items down in the folder. How's that work? My spam filter is evidently pretty strict, seeing as it catches not only spam, but also messages that could not possibly be spam. Way to go, email. I have Yahoo mail. I've heard Gmail has better spam filters, so that messages about giant blueberries and giant sex organs will not end up anywhere, not even in your spam folder. However, when I attempted to open a Gmail account, and succeeded, I elected to have email forwarding from my Yahoo account, and the forwarding stopped after a little while and has not resumed since. This is probably somehow my fault, but until I figure out how, I will not admit it. And I know Gmail is part of Google, which runs this blog, but I have to be honest with my readers here. I hope that once I do get my Gmail account up and running, I will not be receiving messages about how to grow radishes that will break free of their roots and form a mafia to take out unwanted pests and neighbors. Although that would be far more interesting than giant blueberries or penile enlargements. Or penile enlargements for your giant blueberries. Why do your blueberries have penises? What are you asking me for? How should I know?

We're all human...here's to being self-aware

So, I was thinking the other day about something I find interesting. There's a vague statement. Allow me to elaborate. I was listening to a long, boring, far-too-detailed voice message someone had left on my machine, getting irritated, sighing, exhaling forcefully, you know, the usual response. After that, I had to make a call, and had to leave a message, and about a minute or so into it, I realized I was doing the exact same thing I had just privately criticized and cursed someone else for--leaving a long, drawn-out, minutia-laden message. I laughed to myself, called to my fiance to tell her how funny it was that I had just caught myself doing this, couldn't get her attention, had to yell for her to turn off the hair dryer, had to yell two more times before she did, finally told her, as I laughed some more. Her response? "That's great, babe. Why don't you hang up now." I had totally forgotten that I was still connected. That message was going on three minutes. Far longer than the message the other person had left me. It's good to be self-aware.
I've become more self-aware about quite a few things recently. Question: How many times can you check your watch or the time on your cell phone and still have no idea what time it is? I've definitely done it at least three times on multiple occasions. What does that tell me? I have horrible short-term memory. No, it tells me I'm not paying attention. I'm distracted, thinking about the long message I just left someone, or trying to remember if I checked my apartment door enough times (at least three) to make sure it was locked before walking away.
It's funny how when there are too many things going on in your head at once, it appears to others that there is nothing going on in your head.
But why does this happen? Why are we so distracted so often? I think part of the problem is over-stimulation. Think of the sheer volume of media and advertisements to which we are exposed on a daily basis, from numerous sources. How could we be anything but distracted? The answer is: By developing filters in our minds which retain what we need and let slip through what we don't. It's easy to let all this visual and auditory stimulation wash over you, and, to be honest, a lot of it does just go in one ear or one eye and out the other, but when you really stop and think, there is a lot of it that stays with us. I can at least speak for myself when I say that I will see or hear an advertisement relating to my career or my interests or something I've been meaning to do, and I will think about it extensively. And then I'll hear or see another, and think about that one, and so on. I think this is especially true for ambitious people and chronic multi-taskers, both of which I am.
When our minds become over-stimulated and flooded with all these thoughts and "notes to self," we need to find a way to clear the air and become focused again. There are many ways to do this, but I feel one of the best is meditation. Pop on some headphones if you like and listen to some relaxing music, do some deep breathing, and try to think about nothing. Believe me, it's harder than you think. But it will help you to feel less stressed, less overwhelmed, and more focused. I think you will find that you can actually accomplish more by thinking less.
Meditation can also provide the cure for what I believe to be the other main cause of distraction today: The breakneck pace of modern living. Especially in urban environments but also in the suburbs, we live life in the fast lane. We tell ourselves that we need to slow down, but we sometimes can't seem to escape the race. Set aside time for yourself to do nothing but sit or lie down, breathe and free your mind. You'll probably find that a lot of the things you thought were so important to do right now can either wait or be dismissed from your agenda altogether. I believe you will find it a very liberating experience, and you will probably lead a more relaxed and rewarding life. Many people say, "I don't have time to meditate!" But therein lies the problem: If we are too focused on time, we cannot make time to let go of time. It is in the absence of time that we find peace.

WAFFLE CRISP is highly addictive

Are you familiar with the cereal Waffle Crisp? It is sweet and delicious and composed of tiny little waffles soaked in syrup. I used to love it as a child, and then it disappeared for years, YEARS, and then the unthinkable happened...I found it again, in an A&P grocery store in Hastings-on-Hudson, New York, my new home. I bought a box, and consumed it in a single day. A matter of a few hours, really. I just couldn't get enough of it. So I went back a couple days later and bought another box, which I proceeded to consume again in a single day. Hmmm...that's interesting. Again, as soon as the sweet taste of syrup-soaked waffle in cold milk hit my tongue, a sensation so divine and delightful shot through the sensory receptors in my brain and I felt pure happiness. I bought another box. And then another. I have not been able to make a box of Waffle Crisp cereal last longer than two days since I found it again here in New York. I can only conclude that Waffle Crisp...must be laced with cocaine. They should call it Waffle-cane. Or Waffle-ocaine Crisp. I'm just kidding. Now you can't sue me, Post Cereals. And if you did, I would no longer buy your cereal. Well, I would TRY not to buy it. But, addictions can be hard to break...