Random Thanksgiving Thoughts

As I prepare to have my first Thanksgiving Turducken at a friend's house, I read a post from one of my elementary school friends that made me pause. Due to his rank in the military, today he has the unfortunate job of accompanying the chaplain and informing a family that their husband/father/son won't be coming home. Today of all days. This day's memory will stay with those people for the rest of their Thanksgivings.

Part of me is pleased that someone who takes the job seriously in given such a task. I remember my friend as a stand up guy and his service record confirms it. I am also happy that the notification isn't the other way around and someone is notifying my friend's family. As far as the other family goes, maybe the way to look at it is that hopefully there will be many family members at the widow's house (due to the holiday) and this group of family and friends will help them get through this difficult time - together.

On a different note, I was curious all week as to how effective the "opt-out" protest against the TSA's new scanning machines (link here) would be. Slate actually posted a decent article on their website about the lack of logic behind it. See, there are two facts that the organizers of this "protest" (I use the word loosely) forgot.

First, as Americans , we have the attention span of goldfish. If someone isn't reminding us every 30 seconds of something, we mentally move on to out lattes, social networking and electronic gadgets. We have a hard time committing to anything. Especially things that may inconvenience us. Which brings me to the second point...

As Americans we really dislike anything that causes us delay or inconvenience. If you've traveled overseas to smaller countries, you know that our need for instant service or satisfaction is frowned upon. In Caribbean countries they even tell you about "Caribbean time" to prepare you to wait a bit and relax. We don't do well considering our fast paced lives. So to think that travelers who are on a weekend off and on their way to visit family for the holiday would chance their flight being delayed or be the cause of a longer line because of this protest seemed silly to me. People just want to board the plane and safely land at their destination. Their thoughts are with the people they are going to visit and the meal they are going to enjoy. Protests are left for another day.

I hope you all have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Books & Life

I just finished reading a book a friend practically forced me to buy. I was at Barnes and Nobles looking for something that caught my eye and my friend grabbed a small book and handed it to me.

"This is such a good book" she said. "It'll change your life. I even told another of our friends to read it and she loved it too."

The book was rather small and had a peculiar name - Tuesdays With Morrie.

I bought the book along with a fiction thriller and promised I would read it and tell her what I thought.

This week has involved a lot of work and more than a little internal searching. For a long time I have told friends that I make sure I give my mom, dad and grandmother the same gift on every occasion. The one thing they can't buy and haven't accumulated enough of -time. In the case of my family, time with me.

I have always appreciated whenever I am able to get family together for a dinner out or friends together for a trip or a night together. Sometimes, though, it seems as if I am the only one who realizes the importance of these moments. The importance of sharing experiences and stories with those that matter in your life. The reciprocal give and take of relationships and the appreciation for someone who spends their most precious gift with you - time.

A long time ago I realized that you can't force anyone to love you and you can't force anyone to appreciate you. All you can do is be who you are, give what you can and not feel resentment when actions aren't reciprocated. Forgiveness is also important. These lessons and more were mentioned in this small book (less than 200 pages). I guess this was a comforting thought since the older I get, the more I seek the answers that this book attempted to provide.

Perhaps it hit closer to home since I am the same age as the author when he wrote the book. Either way, today I hope to appreciate the small things a bit more...

Life Happens

"Such is the passage of time
Too fast to fold
And suddenly swallowed by signs
Low and behold" - Eddie Vedder, Rise

As my birth date quickly approaches I usually get into a funk and become the type of person that my friends can't stand to be around. I was thinking about life's little lessons today and received an email addressed to several of my old classmates. In the email we were informed that a woman from my grammar school had passed away last week. Oddly enough, it seems like she passed in her sleep the day after her birthday.

I hate to say it but this struck me as odd (even though I'd swear I read somewhere that it is fairly common). The mind quickly forms dozens of conspiracy theories over whether or not it was self induced, or if she was ill, or if it was sudden or random. In the end, the truth is none of it matters. Someone a year younger than me is no longer with us.

When you add her up with four guys gone from my graduating grammar school class and who knows how many from high school then the number of fallen rises more. I can only imagine what my 97 year old grandmother feels as those she has co-existed with pass on.

I don't want to give the illusion that I was at any time in my life close to this woman. I knew her and we were always socially polite when we interacted. Her family was friends with a close childhood friend of mine so I was especially polite because of their relationship, but really had no personal relationship with her. Even when she requested I friend her on facebook I wondered why...

The reality of it is many of us will probably never know the circumstances surrounding her death - and maybe they don't really matter. At the end of the day what has struck me at this hour of the morning is that someone younger than I has passed and the realization of how quickly time has passed. The late John Lennon wrote that "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." This never seemed so true to me as it does this year.

I expect I'll have more to jot down about how I grew another year (physically as well as mentally and emotionally). But for now, I prepare myself for happy days with friends ahead and a continued good time to come.

Mazel tov!

Advice From Those Older Than You?

It's been a rough couple of months. Without giving myself a sympathy party, I haven't felt the best physically or mentally in the last few months and having sick family close to you makes the mental part even more taxing.

That being said (I hate that phrase), I live a good life. Some would say a blessed life. I still have both my parents and a 97+ year old grandmother, a job, and a group of friends that have my back.

I bring this up because I was unintentionally given a verbal slap on the head to bring me back into perspective. I walked into an old friend from my block yesterday. He is only a few years younger than me, but always seemed like a younger kid on the block and always seemed to be being mentored by someone around my age. A few years ago, I found out his mom had passed away. Later, that he got married, had a kid and still came to visit his old dad periodically. Still seemed like a good kid.

Yesterday as I went to enter my house, I saw him and as we went through the usual "how have you been, how's the family " and other pleasantries, I saw an odd look on his face and got the feeling there was something he wanted to say. Suddenly it all came out...almost with a sob, yet he held back.

He had been fine, "considering"...wait, had he seen me since... did I know that his dad and wife had both died?

I was stunned. What do you say to that? I expressed my condolences and checked on the health of his son(?) while I eased into asking him what had happened. Apparently his father had passed away of septic shock and his wife had had an anurism. Both passed away within a year of each other. As I searched for the words to say, I saw his face. He had the look. The look of someone looking for guidance, for a word or two of wisdom from someone older that they have known since childhood.

I had none to give.

What do you tell someone younger than you who has literally lost his whole family? What consolation can you possibly offer? It put my recent issues in perspective.

As he walked away, I felt I was looking for as many words of wisdom as he was - he just needed them now.

Today I attended the funeral of an aunt. Work has been busy so I wasn't able to attend the wake and was only able to attend the funeral. As I sat in the church pew listening to the priest and going through the motions of the ritual I had been taught since I was a child, I was filled with a feeling of great loss. I remembered that in high school I had a teacher who told that we felt loss when we faced death for our own selfish reasons. The person who passes feels no pain, it is we who feel a sense of loss because we don't have them available to us anymore. It is we who are reminded of our own delicate nature.

As I fought the emotional effects of the music and memories, I also thought of my uncle. The man who was my confirmation sponsor. The man who was at my high school graduation when my father was not. The man who looked like his life had just been ripped from him. His health has been lacking in recent years and now I wondered if he felt he had to go on - or had the reason for him putting up such a strong fight when he was sick just passed away.

At these times I also think of my own spirituality. After 12+ years of private schooling and a mother who spent most of her free time volunteering in the local parish, I only consider myself agnostic. I try to live a good life and I believe in karma. To be honest with you, there have also been certain situations in my life (a car accident for one) where, when I look back, I don't know how I survived unless someone was looking out for me.

In The Watchmen, Dr. Manhattan states that "A live body and a dead body contain the same number of particles. Structurally there's no discernible difference." We can sit here all day and debate the "it's all gobbledy-gook" theory versus "you just gotta believe" and not come any closer to the truth. At the end of the day it's about you, who you touched and what connections you've made.

Today I grieve for a good woman who was not only good to me and mine, but clearly did well by her soul mate.

Auld Lang Syne

New Year's eve is again upon us and most of us take a few minutes to reflect on the changes in the past year. This particular New Year happens to also be the end of the first decade of a new millennium, so probably more reflection is required, but I'll just jot down a few things that went though my head at the time I started writing this.

First, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that not much has changed with my job. The next great American novel still eludes me like a gazelle to a lion. However, considering how many times I'm reminded that those of us that have jobs are lucky, I won't complain. There is always next year.

My 98 year old grandmother is still adding enjoyment to my life and both parents are in good health.

I am surrounded by a great group of friends who accept me as I am and aren't afraid to tell me off when I need a reality check. The type of friends that ask you if you are ok after you fall down stairs and then start laughing hysterically when you tell them that you are not hurt.

It has been a year of changes in the lives of those around me. Friends moving in together, running (and not running) for office, basements remodeled, moving cross country, several went M.I.A. for a time being and others were found again through Facebook (in spite of my reluctance). Bars every night and movies at the house with take out have given way to less frequent poker nights and dinner at new restaurants to catch up.

A friend mentioned that sometimes you don't notice how much time has lapsed until you see the change in friends' children. You blink and kids that were two are on the way to eight. The documentation to prove this is a plethora of digital evidence across numerous states and cameras.

That being said, I have learned a lot this year about myself and about (and from) those around me and I look forward to what is coming in 2010.

Happy New Year!

A Moment

Yesterday I received a real hug. You know what I mean. No, not the hug you give to your wife before she leaves for the day or the one you give your kids when they head off to school. More like the powerful hug that can only be amplified by emotions like fear or utter bliss. Fear of losing someone, or happiness that that you haven't lost someone.

Let me explain. My 98 year old grandmother went into the hospital the other night because she wasn't feeling well...again. This is not a rare occurrence since she has had a few episodes in the past year or so and every time she goes into the hospital they find nothing. Who knows what the body does at 98 years. Even the doctors seem to be perplexed. However, after a few days of "observation" she is released with new medication.

For 98 years old, my grandmother is in great shape. She still walks to the bus and goes out shopping for hours. She acts like a woman half her age and has the spirit to match. I am convinced that this is the key to her longevity.

The other night when I visited her at the hospital I gave her a hug when I entered the room. It's this hug that I want to mention here, because I'm realizing in life that we need to enjoy and embrace every moment that causes us raw emotion.

The hug was simple. A full, arms around each other hug where I could feel the warmth of her body and felt that I could feel her life essence grabbing me and reciprocating the emotion I was conveying. This is the hug that I would imagine you parents give to your kids after they almost get hit by a car crossing the street or after they show up after being "missing" for a period of time. A hug of relief. A hug full of love beyond description. Almost the same as the hug you give someone that you are glad to see after a a long absence, but without the fear of loss. In short, the type of hug that reminds you how fragile we all are.

If you're smiling right now then there is nothing else I need to write to explain myself...

L'chaim!

I'm sitting at the local diner and I notice the group of "kids" (probably 18-20 year olds) at the next table. 9 of them. Their conversation is lighthearted - movies, a recent book, a new program or song they downloaded.
I look at the breakdown and it seems familiar: the cute hottie,the nerdy girl,the sexier brunette,and the in-between girl. The guys are even easier to categorize: the hipster with the BoSox cap,the prep,the cool tattoo dude,the nerdy prep and the awkward casual guy.
Was it that long ago that that was us? I could assign one of my friend's names to each one of these nameless kids. Saturday night...movie night or was dinner the event of the evening? Are they catching up or is this a weekly thing?

They talk about cult favorites like Fight Club, Ghostbusters and others that were new box office releases to me at that age. It's fun to watch. Not only to reminisce but also because at this age I can see and read the signs of social awkwardness - the gaps in conversation, the look around the table to see if it's the right time to start a new thread of conversation. The look around the room to see who is watching you and the loud, "would be obnoxious if they weren't young" laugh that provides much needed validation for the teller of the story or joke.

I smile as I remember good times and also remember the great times I've had with friends recently.

Life is good.

Why I Hate "Stay-Cations"

Many years ago when I was a young(er) lad I made a conscious decision to alter the path I was on. It seemed that the path I had been put on involved a lot of items that didn't make me happy and sometimes made me downright miserable. I decided to focus more on the people in my life. People that cared about what I thought and felt and thought the same way about me. People that to me were real: they laughed, cried, yelled and sometimes cursed their maker when they didn't understand a situation. I decided that you can't truly love anyone if you don't love yourself and basically decided to just try to be a better person.

Anyone that knows me knows that my mind is constantly on the go. I'm always thinking of the next step, another permutation to a problem or a witty retort to the last comment you made. It is usually only when I'm on vacation that my mind is able to shut down after 2 days of drinks, sand and interesting conversation. This is primarily the reason that I aim for a beach and water every chance I get. This one time, I was unable to get enough people interested in a quick trip, so I opted for the ever popular, seldom satisfying stay-cation.

I am not a stranger to stay-cations. I took several when I used to work at my previous job. They all ended up the same way: with me in some mental funk after barely leaving the house in a week -not because I couldn't have plans, but because I get myself in a funk and start choosing to stay home instead of socializing. Add to this the 24 hour overdrive cycle that my mind enters. I will think about everything from humanity's beginnings to why that pain in the ass friend of mine can never make time to hang out. This is dangerous for me because in essence, I'll just chase my proverbial tail with no chance of ever catching it until I simply reset by passing out from exhaustion.

It's now been 2 days into this stay-cation and I have done nothing different than on an average day off - maybe even less. I have, however, done lots of thinking. Not always a good thing. While trying to plan a trip I'm taking next year to New Orleans, I started realizing how quickly the time has passed. I must own thousands of pictures of friends 8 years ago meeting 3 times a week at a local bar just catch up and have a good time. Now a night out involves a day off in between and lots of planning. I have often tried to remind my friends that there are only "X" amount of years, events and trips left before life gets in the way. Before plans involve the wife and/or kids, before you can't go because your spouse hates your friends or before the mortgage has to take priority over fun. At these times I'm looked at like I'd assume any prophet of days past foretelling the end of the world - with disbelief.

Fast forward 8 years. Life gets in the way.

I get it. Priorities shift and life happens. The days of gathering the gang and going on a romp across Europe may be mostly over. Sometimes you go weeks without seeing people that live five minutes from your house. Last night a friend pointed out to me that he thought we were older now than some of the teachers we had in high school. Are we "middle aged?" One friend says no, another avoids the question. A third will say that he's younger than me so he doesn't count. Another will say that age is just a number in your head. My 98 year old grandmother is proof of that. But if age is just a number in your head, how did my aging body pick up on it?

What's the point of this? I don't exactly know. Since this blog is primarily for my own sanity and most of my friends get a verbal version of most of these topics when we meet over dinner or drinks, I'd assume that what I'm really trying to do is maintain a record for myself. To record as much as I can so that when I review these moments in my head I don't chase my tail, but find that this is just life and the one thing I do well is adapt.

Wait, I did do something today, I wrote this post.

thoughts...

In a digital age where everything moves fast the simple human has adapted by "becoming" what it is not. Emails and texts have replaced calls the way the telephone once replaced letters. The trade off is we've become addicted to the technology. The slave of man has made man it's slave. Given man's propensity towards taking the easy way out, Skynet doesn't seem like such a far fetched idea.

Living With Dad: Episode III

Today I tried explaining to my dad that the honey jar that's been in my cabinet has not spoiled. "Son, everything on this earth spoils and decomposes" he said in his "Mighty and Powerful Oz" voice. When I mentioned that I had just seen a documentary on the wonders of bees, he gave me that smug "you really don't know what you're talking about" look.

Does this dynamic ever change? Somehow it seems there is no possible way that in my lifetime I may have accumulated any accurate information on any topic that we discuss.

On another subject, for those of you that don't know, my dad and grandmother have been taking turns going to the hospital lately so the past two weeks have not been fun. In all of this, somehow I got a half-prop for picking the doctor that sent dad to a hospital that treated him like a king. If he could have moved in voluntarily he probably would have. Ok, maybe that's going too far, but he did love the way he was treated and felt confident that he was being cared for properly.

Lately it just seems like before I make weekend plans I call all the family elders to see how they're feeling this weekend.

Insert your "that's life" comment here...

Living With Dad: Part Deux

My dad continues to consistently surprise me with little "dad-isms." The relationship hasn't changed much except that he is constantly trying to feed me as if I needed any more food in my overextended stomach. Last week, I was closing a Ziploc bag and unconsciously closed it in parts (squeeze the strips together in 3 steps - first part, second, etc). I should have known what was coming next because I saw him make an odd facial expression and aim in in my direction.

"You know, you actually close the bag by joining one end and sliding it closed across to the other end."

"Dad, I know how to close the bag. It's sealed, right?"

He has also decided to rebel against any adult that seems to tell him what to do. It took me weeks to get him to agree to a medical plan. Today, he doesn't like his doctor. He wants a new guy. Apparently the doctor's office sent him to take the same exam twice. A careless mistake. But the minute you realize that it is the same exam you already took, wouldn't you say something? He is usually opinionated about EVERYTHING but he one time he needed to speak up he chose silence so he could come home and be a martyr. Then he pouted like a 5 year old when I told him he should have spoken up and that it was his own fault.

Dad has also upgraded his "watching people through the window" skills with a new "scare the crap out of his son when he gets home" skill.

I will usually get home and the start changing clothes to get comfortable. Dad will wait until I think I'm alone and pop out of nowhere with a loud "HI, HOW WAS WORK" while simultaneously scaring the crap out me as he pops out of another room like the old, fat Batman in The Dark Night Returns.

The best part has to be his child-like enjoyment of WWE wrestling. He loves it. Watches it every chance he gets. One little problem - he thinks that it is real.

No, really - he does.

I once tried explaining the "heel" and "hero" thing, how many "characters" go back and forth and other stuff I had read about Vince McMahon (who is a pretty smart marketing genius). The conversation quickly turned into how this character was not friends with that one and so on. I explained that these guys work out together and they help train the newbies...blah, blah, blah. I may as well have spoken Chinese because I was instead told that he hates all the dramatic parts and that they should just wrestle...then went on to a 10 minute story about how one wrestler married this girl and so on.

What can I do? He's over 70 - there's nothing I can force him understand anymore. I'll just let him enjoy this fantasy.

Let's get ready to rumble....

Birthday Blues

So for the last 4 hours I've been trying to figure out what to write.

When I got home from work today after unsuccessfully trying to avoid the staff spy network "surprising" me with a birthday cake, I went to pick up my mail off the floor and instead found a letter from Bridget Jordan, the manager of the post office in my neighborhood. Apparently, some idiot across the street has been allowing Cujo to roam unattended and has managed to not only take down the local mail man, but also the only back up. As a result, I am supposed to physically go to the post office and pick up my mail until this matter is "resolved with the dog owner."

The letter reeks of "please go vigilante justice all over Cujo," but I also wondered that if they were able to drop off the note in my mail slot today, why didn't they at least drop off today's mail for me?

If you ask my closest friends you'll find out that I am sometimes the worst around my birthday. I get grumpy, introspective and mentally chase my tail around thoughts and problems that have no solution. That's just how my brain works.

So after a grumpy day at work and 5 hours of listening to what is now considered "oldies" music, I have mellowed out and completed most of my reflecting. Let it be noted that I had Green Day's Good Riddance -Time of your Life on repeat for half an hour...

See, I'm a practical person, so I get it. I have great friends and my immediate family is still around to nag me at my every turn. How many don't have those 2 basic things?

I'm lucky to have a great family and a great set of friends that cook and bake for my birthday then get hammered at the bar in my honor. I'm blessed to feel that at any given moment, they have "my back."

Thanks guys.
Cheers!

sensitivity and drama vs tolerance

I hope this doesn't offend some friends. I was at a bar waiting on a friend and I started typing on my phone. I typed the entire stream of thought and every link in my though chain. This is raw, uncut, unedited and merely what was going through my head at the moment.


sensitivity and drama vs tolerance. life is learning that quality is more important than quantity and the friends you have now, as dysfunctional as they may be will probably be more solid and reliable than people you have less history with.

the fact that people don't realize this is a symptom of our 'grass is always greener' mentality. What no one realizes is that all grass grows weeds. Some just grow more of them.

i feel those that sit there panicking about their lives are stuck in a lie. I'm an atheist yet I'm lost without a god? People's parents mess them up yet I haven't resolved my issues with mine-alive or gone. Why not state that you re agnostic confused and lost in the world just like everyone else. Then you can start at step one.

we've been taught that it is our 'manifest destiny' to be better. We are meant for greater than this,no?

We re told we are.

Yet we settle.

Even the most successful have a 'hole' of emptiness where something missing. The human condition? Maybe. Doesn't seem Darwinian to give a creature the power of a mind-not a brain- a non tangible mind that will always doubt and ask for more. Let's not even factor in the possibility of a soul. Is this the 'god' quotient? A lion in the African bush doesn't wonder if there is 'more out there' than hunting. Why not? Why would a human evolve to the point of "mind"ly (new word?) consciousness? It serves no purpose except to cause doubt pain and confusion.

Does that make human consciousness a genetic defect? An anomaly? An unexpected detrimental effect of evolution?

Living With Dad Part 1: Life's Little Game Of Role Reversal

For the past few months, my dad has been living with me. It seems he's the only retiree who leaves Florida to return to NY for his golden years. If you know my dad, you know that it fits his backwards personality. During the past few months, I've been real careful not to fall into old roles. Without being too overbearing, I've made sure that we both understand that he is to feel comfortable in my house while at the same time knowing that we are in my house and not vice versa like when I was a child. So far, so good. Only once was there an altercation and we worked through that really well.

It's weird when you notice your dad's quirks after being an adult. I already knew he was paranoid, a conspiracy theorist and frequently displayed anti-social behavior, but now I notice the smaller things. I lived with a room mate for years and have also traveled with friends. Frequently I've shared more impersonal toiletries such as soap, toothpaste - but my own father brings his own. Weird. Maybe he doesn't want to impose on my supplies? He does that kind of thing. I have to constantly remind him he doesn't have to ask my permission to drink iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge.

Today he spent a bit of time people watching. But not casual, "spy-like" watching. All out, "let me put my entire body in the open window and stare" watching. The type that you would think was creepy if you didn't know him.

I constantly find myself feeling like I'd assume a parent does while watching their child marvel over something new. In my father's case, the new things could be a video on You Tube or the speed at which I find some info he needs on Google. Earlier in the year, I took my 97 year old grandmother, my mother and father all to the supermarket so they wouldn't have to trek home on foot with the groceries. The entire time can be compared to a parent going to the supermarket with 3 toddlers: items being picked up to be bought, questions about "what's this?",a whole lot of wandering followed by me rounding up the seniors and attempting to corral them around my shopping cart, in short - an adventure.

One of my mid-life friends reminds me that this is the new status quo. This is what happens in life. The parent and child swap roles. It still makes me wonder what quirks I'll notice next. What other roles will swap? I'm not sure how long he's staying with me, but for the time being, I'm curious what will happen next.

Tonight I came home and found him laughing on the couch watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

Who would have seen that coming?

Human Indifference And The Status Quo

Today I read about 2 stories that made me think about the way we humans are self centered. We really can't help it. It's a survival instinct. The brain makes you focus on only your issues in the hopes that it will extend your existence. It's the social conscience (in the form of schools, parents, religion and any other communal entity) that actually steers you away from yourself and tells you that you should share and think of others.

So what has happened that has turned off that social consciousness?

Let me explain - I read today that a woman was raped in the subway and the subway clerk and onlookers did nothing. The rapist was apparently so secure of humanity's indifference that he raped her numerous times in spite of an arriving train pulling into the station. To make matters worse, the victim has tried to take the MTA to court since the MTA employees did nothing and a judge has decided that they "had no obligation to do anything to help her other than to signal their superiors that police were needed at the station" (ARTICLE HERE)

I get that the subway employees only have to press the emergency button and not put their lives in danger or make matters worse, but c'mon...really? Pretend you're going to beat the rapist up. Or at least yell "I called the cops, you better leave her alone." Something...ANYTHING...that says "I give a damn."

Fast forward to today. Some guy jumped off the 3rd floor of the Queens Center Mall and landed on a kid. The kid that was landed on survived and the jumper died instantly. Now, I'm, not a shrink, but I've heard that many people try to commit suicide as a "cry for help." If this poor sap's goal was to have one of the hundreds of shoppers stop him from jumping then he grossly miscalculated his target (no pun intended) audience.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda - nothing can change the past. It should probably also be noted that this is nothing new since there have always been stories of people getting run over and shot in a crowd and no one stepping forward as a witness. Instinctively, we care only about our own asses. That's why we always teach children to break the natural human program and do what's considered socially responsible.

The part that bothers me is that through centuries of evolution, we seem to have still not been able to master this simple lesson. It's sad that people are more likely to help a hurt animal on the side of the road than a fellow human being. Maybe part of it is disbelief ("is that REALLY happening?), or fear but either way, it's society as a whole that suffers.

World's Animals Give Up: Mass Suicide Begins

On February 10th, the coast guard in the Philippines captured a photo of 200-300 disoriented dolphins drifting towards the coast in what would have resulted in a mass dolphin "self-beaching" event like no other (read original NatGeo article here).
There is speculation that high levels of mercury and/or toxins spread by man are disorienting the dolphins and causing them to beach themselves. Or maybe they've just had enough. We've seen this somewhere before...with the bees.

Large quantities of bees have been disappearing for years now (check out nature episode here). Colony collapse disorder or CCD is the name given to the event where bees in several countries are just disappearing and leaving no trace to help us figure out a reason. Food and larvae have been found in many of the hives -but no dead bodies. Speculation includes pesticide and toxins damaging the bees' navigation system (and making them unable to find their hive after going out for pollen) and sickness caused by mites.

Maybe it's because I just finished watching "The Happening," but it almost seems like the earth's creatures have started losing their will to live. If the survival instinct is gone, what's next? The idea of bees and dolphins committing the animal kingdom's equivalent of Seppuku is probably the gloomiest thought to ever go through my head. Have we forced nature to give up on us by treating the world like crap for hundreds of years? Is nature trying to give itself a clean slate and start over?

With all the hoopla about the world ending in 2012, it makes you wonder...

14 Gold Medals And A Bong Hit

Michael Phelps. What can I say that hasn't been said by all the commentators this weekend? In case you live in a box, this week a picture of American Hero Phelps having a bong hit appeared in a British tabloid (News of The World article here). It seems the world can't believe that Phelps had a bong hit. Uh - this is the same guy who was caught drunk driving at 19 years old. Why is anyone surprised? I just think of comedian Jo Koy's piece on Michael Phelps and how he's Superman in the pool and Forrest Gump when he takes his swimming cap off (check video here.)

What is it about heroes that makes fans believe that they are perfect? If there is one thing that we are taught in stories and the news it's that heroes are human. They have faults and skeletons in the closet. Those faults are what make their conquests so special. Overcoming faults and obstacles make the triumphs taste better.

As far as Phelps screwing up his endorsements and such, hey, he's 23 -he's stupid. 23 year-olds think about sex, partying and eating, The fact that Phelps was only caught messing up one previous time is a freak of nature.

Besides, lets face it. We've all seen the articles and interviews. Outside of the pool, the guy is a bit of a dweeb. The fact that chicks finally dig him and everyone wants to know him was too much pressure for poor Mike. A source even describes him as "holding court" when he goes out to bars. More power to him.

Bottom line? Does anyone really care? Women dig a bad boy more than a jock. The Olympic Committee has made it clear that since the puffs took place after the games and he has admitted responsibility, they are sure he will be a better role model in the future. His fans (over 50%) forgive him and the media will remember when we get closer to the next Olympic games, but does that really matter? He may lose some endorsements, but how many millions does one man really need?

Gold Found At JFK

If you're ever at JFK flying American out to Las Vegas, take a walk to the Burger King upstairs by the gates (past the security check point).

Last May I flew to Vegas with a friend of mine for a weekend in Sin City. While we were waiting for the flight, we decided to get a bite to eat at Burger King. The line was huge and you could tell that their "A" team wasn't working this shift. Even a simple order like a Whopper seemed to take an average of 15 minutes and then it sometimes went to the wrong customer who was so happy he got any food at all that he just ate whatever he was given.

It was in this food service chaos that we saw the sign. A bright, shiny gold sign prominently displayed at the top right of the french fry machine. In clear, bold black letters it read "GOLD MINE."

We both burst out in laughter.

I've dealt with customer service and company profits for most of my employed life, so I get the significance of the machine, but the idea of the story behind how this sign came to be placed on this machine left too many possibilities in my mind.

I could see the franchise owner informing his less than friendly employees that they all had to add on the french fries to every order. "Ask every customer if they want fries" he would say. When he made the schedule and informed each employee where they would be working the following would have transpired:

Employee: "So I am fryer today?"
Owner: "No, you're working the gold mine."
Employee: "Yeah, de french fries."
Owner: "No. It is the gold mine and you will refer to it as such."
Employee: "Ok. I work fry."

The owner would then have gone out of his way to re-write all the new hire paperwork, manuals, etc. so that they all said "gold mine." Then a great idea would have come to him - a gold plaque proudly stating "GOLD MINE" so that every employee from this point forward would know the monetary importance of this machine and the product it cooks.

I didn't hear them ask ONE person if they wanted to add fries with their single burgers.

Some gold mine...

Time For Men To Say "I Told You So"

Since the creation of mead, men have been telling women that sex is better after a few drinks. Now we have scientific proof!

Researchers in Australia (article here)have discovered that drinkers report 30 percent fewer problems during sex. For you ladies making that "pfft" sound, just think - that means 30% more of you are satisfied. That's 30 % less whiskey...uh..."droop" they called it.

Main reason? If you ask me, after a few drinks, who cares about all the mental over thinking that guys do. Constantly planning scenarios in our head. After a few drinks, it's just "showtime."

Now if only they could work on an antidote for beer goggles...