An Angry Man's Lament

 

I hate people.

It’s true. We’re talking intense loathing and dislike here. Not all people, of course, but a huge percentage of them. Lately, though, it feels like my utter contempt for them is on the verge of boiling over, and I feel the need to vent my frustration.

My problem is that I have very little patience for stupid people. As comedian George Carlin once quipped, “Just think of how stupid the average person is, and then realize that half of them are even stupider.” For example, I despise every person who claims with absolute certainty that the Earth is flat, or that chocolate milk comes exclusively from brown cows, or that the Titanic was just a movie and not a real event. They are an insult to humanity and a waste of oxygen.

And I’m not just being critical because I’m rapidly turning into a grumpy old man, either. The truth is, as someone who has always strived to be an intelligent, courteous, and responsible person, I’ve always struggled with idiots and jerks that make bold, moronic claims with the utmost confidence, as when they say that solar panels are going to “suck up all the energy from the Sun.”

Probably the most egregious of these stupid people is Donald “They’re eating the dogs…they’re eating the cats” Trump. If idiocy was a sandwich, then Trump would be a buffet.  Everyday it’s a new ridiculous claim. Anyone that thinks that injecting yourself with disinfectants is a good idea to stop Covid should never hold political office.  Calling climate change a “Chinese hoax” should be similarly disqualifying. But seriously, how dumb do you have to be to believe that elementary schools are performing sex-change operations on children?

Whether you are religious or not, people do make some outlandish claims to try and convince others that their faith is indisputable, such as “If God isn’t real, then why do meteors always land in craters?” Many Catholics are saying that a stone statue of the Virgin Mary that “miraculously survived” a fire, is a sign from God. Really?  A Christian TV Host recently claimed vegetarian hamburgers alter a person’s DNA, causing them to no longer be able to be classified as human.  He claims it is a “Luciferian plot” to prevent them from being saved by Christ.

For me, the latest assault on intelligence concerns the catastrophic, deadly wildfires currently plaguing the Los Angeles area. The internet is now abuzz with ridiculous, blatantly false reports and harmful conspiracy theories.  This, during a particularly heartbreaking time when the fires have taken dozens of lives, thousands of structures have burnt to the ground, mass evacuations are in place, and tens of thousands of homes are without power.

In the wake of these fires breaking out, there has been a steady stream of moronic claims peppering social media.  As a resident of Southern California, I take offense at the ridiculous nonsense spread by these people. Aside from the flurry of political jabs by the right wing to create even more unrest and division during this tragedy, one of the most popular memes going around on the internet blames the fires on “God’s wrath” for mocking him at the Golden Globe Awards. Others say that the fires were started by Satanic rituals that went awry. Rumors spread about state-controlled directed energy weapons from the sky being a culprit in the fire. 

Finally, Alex Jones, that renowned conspiracy theorist, just had to weigh in, saying that the fires were planned by political operatives to wreak havoc on the United States. He posted on X, that the “Los Angeles fires are part of a larger globalist plot to wage economic warfare and deindustrialize the U.S. before triggering total collapse” and calling the L.A. officials response “administrative terrorism.” 

I may not be the smartest guy in the room, but even I know a load of bull crap when I hear it.  It’s such a pity that so many millions of Americans are completely unable to tell the difference.  I feel that nonsense such as this should be at least as painful to those that utter it as it is to those that are forced to hear it.  I guess ignorance truly is bliss. Perhaps this is what Ernest Hemingway meant when he said that “Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.”

Name That Baby, Part 2!

Well, I guessed wrong, guys!  

When my daughter Lissa announced a few weeks ago that she was expecting a child in September, like many others, I assumed that it would be a boy thanks to both mine and her husband Jon’s family history of predominantly male offspring.  

So, to be helpful, I wrote an article for my blog proposing several potential boy names that I liked for their consideration. She had her gender reveal shortly thereafter, and I’m delighted to share with the whole blogiverse that she is expecting a baby girl! 

To add to that excitement, my other daughter, Shannon, who just gave birth to her first child (a gorgeous little girl named Ann Marie) last October, is expecting baby #2 a month later in October.  Fortunately, she is pretty sure what her baby’s name will be already.

(Must be something in the water there in SoCal!)

While Lissa does have a tentative first name selected already, she and Jon still haven’t quite finalized their decision yet.  She teased us with a clue saying it was sort of an homage to my mother, her grandma, Sally.  

Later, after numerous bad guesses, she revealed that the name they both agreed on was “Rosalie,” which sounds a little like “Ro-Sally.”  My wife and I both agree that it is a cute name.  As far as middle names go, the field is still wide open. 

Again, that’s my cue to provide yet more unsolicited name suggestions.  (I know what you’re thinking, and it’s true, I am a crazy awesome granddad.) 

These days, nothing is off the table when it comes to baby names.  While types of flowers like Violet and Rose have long been the source of names, now babies are being named after trees, fruit, mountains, streams, and all things nature.  

Types of food (Candy, Cookie, Pork Chop, Goober) are another subject ripe with potential baby names.  Likewise, we see children named after places, gemstones and jewels, weather (i.e., Stormy), animals, days of the week, and anything else young minds can think up.

The problem is, of course, that young minds can be quite creative, and the consequences of their poor judgement can be dire. An awful name can tag the unfortunate child for ridicule and handicap them socially for a lifetime. They must choose wisely when selecting names for their offspring.  

Examples of names gone horribly wrong include: “Sex Fruit,” “Number 16 Bus Shelter,” “Gay Rape,” “Keenan Got Lucy,” “Tallulah Does the Hula from Hawaii,” “Violence,” and “Yeah Detroit.” 

In looking at possible girl names, I again searched my soul and called upon the mystical powers that be to provide some divine inspiration.  Words that might possibly be considered names, in an unconventional sense, anyway, such as “collywobbles,” “yitten,” “bunghole,” “pronk,” “bumfuzzle,” and “skirl,” flooded into my mind.  

Personally, of the six, I don’t think “pronk” is an appropriate girl’s name, but I don’t want to judge.  Who am I to argue with the powers that be?  Lissa’s requirement for a name still stands that it must have a cool, potential nickname. (That alone would probably disqualify “Pronk.”  The other five might prove difficult as well in that regard.)

That in mind, here are ten (better!) potential first and middle names and nicknames befitting up-and-coming little princesses.  They include:

1.       Ginger – This was the name of my neighbor’s dog, but that shouldn’t necessarily disqualify it.  It does have a cute nickname of Ginny.

2.       Primrose – A name stolen from The Hunger Games, I like the shortened version, Prim.

3.       Cassidy – A popular name with a popular nickname, Cassie, as well.

4.       Winona – Native American meaning “first-born daughter.”  Winnie or Nonnie are cute nicknames!

5.       Adeline – A cute name with a matching cute Addie nickname.

6.       Emersyn – A unique twist on the spelling makes it cool, and it has a cute nickname of Emmy.

7.       Kiana – Meaning “divine” in Hawaiian, it has a fun nickname of KiKi.

8.       Cora – A cute and already short name, but with nicknames like Coco and Cory.

9.       Delaney – An Irish name that can be shortened to Laney or Lane.

A        Alexis - I always liked this one, and it can be shortened to Lexis, Lexi, Lex, Alex, and Allie.

There were several honorable mentions that were highly considered, but ultimately these names failed to make the final cut. They included Colbie, Schuyler, Blake, Coral, Lyric, Aubrey, Zena, Ireland, Hunter, Dakota (j/k), Quinn, Piper, Margot, Harmony, Sawyer, Fallon, Blythe, Toby, and Whitley.  Unfortunately, they failed the smell test for cool nicknames or were otherwise deemed problematic. 

Middle names are not quite as critical as first names, but regardless, decisions still must be made about them.  The good thing about them is that they can be as creative as you want since most people’s middle names remain generally anonymous. That means that if you want to give your child an unusual or weird name, this is your opportunity!  

You don’t have to go along with the usual suspects, such as Elizabeth, Jane, Anne, Marie, Rose, Catherine, Lynn, or Nicole.  Those are fine, of course, but compared to names like Nutella, Hashtag, Covid, Doorman, or Tarantula, they lack that quirky pizzazz.

I’m sure whatever baby name Jon and Lissa decide on, it will be a very clever, unique, and wonderful name that, like the baby herself, we will all grow to love.  It will be a name that will be undoubtedly embroidered, cut into shapes, foil stamped, embossed, engraved, and otherwise crafted hundreds of times…and that’s just during her first year!  

We’re so very excited for these two incredible people and the amazing journey they’ve begun and look forward to being a small part of it.

You never know when you are going to be crapped on or when you're gonna get a big smile, or when that smile immediately turns into hysterics.  It might be like living with a drug addict.

- Blake Lively

Name That Baby!

 

With the recent wonderful announcement that my daughter, Lissa, is expecting her first child, one of the discussions we shared focused on what to name the baby.  Her husband, Jon, tends to favor more conventional names like Mark, Bill, Scott, Ron, etc., while Lissa is thinking along the lines of something more unique, unusual and creative.  

Her one requirement is that whatever name is chosen, it must have a cool nickname.  While the gender of the little tax deduction is yet unknown at the time of this writing, I thought that it was never too early to start pitching some ideas for her consideration. 

First, let me say that I don’t feel that the baby should necessarily share the name of a grandparent or other family member.  I know a lot of families do this, but to me it smacks of egotism a little bit.  To those who point out that my son Bryan’s middle name is Thomas, let me respond by saying that I am, ever-so-slightly, a self-absorbed egotist.

(I’ll pause here for a moment to let some of you digest that uncanny revelation.)

I also want to go on record as saying that naming the child, and every consecutive child, with the same first letter of the last name like a certain well-known Armenian family is not part of my thought process.  I believe we should entertain names from all the letters of the alphabet and not just the letter B in this case.  That said, I do like a lot of B names like Bradley and Brodee.

While I am fully on board with naming a child something unique, there are limits to how creative parents should be.  Consider that the wrong name could lead to a lifetime of abuse and ridicule for the poor child.  I think back to the story of the young pregnant woman who was in a hospital and heard a name that she thought was beautiful and wanted to use it for her baby daughter.  

Fortunately, the nurses convinced her that there were better choices out there than to name her child Chlamydia.  Unless your child is destined to play in the NFL (i.e., Kadarius Toney, Equanimeous St. Brown, Zonovan Knight, etc.,) I would pump the brakes on too weird a name.  Weird, I know, is a relative concept, and what’s normal for some is just freaking bizarre for others.

Lissa lives in the shadow of Hollywood in the Los Angeles area, home to celebrities and a rather unique mix of wealthy and elite characters and personalities, where naming children odd and unusual names has become something of a tradition.  Some scoffed when Gwyneth Paltrow named her child Apple, but I thought it was cute and inventive.  Beyonce naming her daughter Blue Ivy is exactly the creative spin you would expect from her and Jay-Z. 

Likewise, when Paris Hilton stuck with the city-theme for her newborn son, Phoenix, or when Nick Cannon (who has a virtual army of weirdly named kids) named his latest son Zillion Heir Cannon, I respected their fresh and imaginative choices. 

So where does one draw the line, then? Magician Penn Jillette’s kids are named Zolten and Moxie CrimeFighter.  Erykah Badu named her children Seven, Puma, and Mars.  John Mellencamp’s son is Speck Wildhorse while Jason Lee’s son is Pilot Inspektor.  Frank Zappa named his kids Moon Unit, Dweezil, Ahmet, and Diva Muffin. Kim Kardashian’s kids are named North, Saint, Chicago, and Psalm. In fact, if you are a child and your mother is a Kardashian, chances are very good you are going to have a weird first name.  

Don’t even get me started on Elon Musk and his weird brood.  Obviously, the list goes on and on with many celebrities creating outlandish names for their children to get more attention for themselves and for their brand.  For me, it’s all a bit much, and I feel sorry for the kids.  For them it’s like going to their first day of school with the name Punchmyface Buttmuncher.  It doesn’t end well.

As usual, I digress.

Baby name books are a great resource as are all the related articles on the internet, but sometimes you just must go with your gut and come up with names that feel right no matter their popularity or appropriateness.  Searching my soul for inspiration, words suddenly came to me out of the ether that I thought might be good options for a baby’s name like Argyle, Rutabaga, Flapjack, Bumper, and Nimbus.  I realized, however, that they didn’t have much nickname potential and would instead have to be relegated to the list of potential middle names.

Since nicknames were an important part of the selective process, I decided to focus on them and work backwards to a name.  A few that stuck out to me included Kit, Jack, Nash, Mac, Ace, Dax, Sam, Ash, Bobby, Buster, Buzz, Chad, Duke, Flip, Whit, Kip and Wyn.  You’ll notice that these are boy’s names primarily, and that’s because I am one of 5 boys in my family, and in both Jon’s and Lissa’s families the boys are the predominant gender, so I expect this next generation will similarly lean that way as well.  

I would be tickled to death if she had a girl though!  If we find out that she is expecting a girl, I will have to do a revised post with my suggestions for girl's names. Some names are gender neutral like Chris, Kelly, Alex, Tracy, or Dylan.  I like names like that because they have a certain fluidity lacking in names like Phil, Frank, and George.

Kit and Kip are cool nicknames.  Kit is a diminutive of both Katherine and Christopher. Kip doesn’t have a longer name but sounds hip and maybe a bit preppy.  He could grow up and be a complete jerk, but maybe not.  It’s just a chance you must take. Whit is short for Whitney or Whitaker but sounds cool just by itself.  As the kid will undoubtedly be hilarious, it will definitely be a fitting name.  

I like the names Nash and Mac a lot.  Not only are there historical and social references to the names, but they are also just cool to say.  Mac or Mack is a short form of McCoy or McAllister.  Your choice: Nash Bridges or MacGyver?  If only I had a paper clip, box of matches, toenail clipper, rubber band, and a can of hairspray I could figure this out.

Jack is a cool nickname. So many great people share that name from Jack Kennedy, Jack Benny, Jack Nicholson, Jack Kerouac, and Jack Nicklaus to name just a few.  Short for John, it’s a long-shot, I know, but still, it’s a good one.  Play it again, Sam!  Short for Samuel or Samantha, it’s a cool name as well…almost bewitching even. 

Ace is a cool name which conjures up memories of a rock guitarist for the band KISS, crack fighter pilots, tennis players, golfers, and one well-known pet detective.  Alrighty then!  Flip and Dax are interesting nicknames and would sound great as being part of some snooty fraternity, but then they could also be funny and sensitive guys too.  Dax has a kind of futuristic vibe to it.  Flip is the short form of Philip or Felipe, which means lover of horses.  Anyone who loves horses can’t be bad!

Ash has become a popular name in recent years as the lead character in the Pokémon cartoons.  Short for Ashton or Asher, it can be either a boy's or girl's name. Buzz and Buster are old fashioned nicknames reminiscent of bad guys in the movies (similar to Bif, Lex, or Zeke) that still sound like fun names. Chad and Duke are strong, masculine names that have been popular nicknames forever.  

Chad means “battle warrior,” but is probably more likely to be battling waves on a surfboard in Southern California than anything else.  Duke means a “British nobleman,” but surprisingly it is used by both genders.  Both?  Don’t tell that to John Wayne.  Yikes!

So, Lissa, those are my thoughts about what to name your bouncing baby boy come September!  If you discover that your baby will wear pink instead, you can totally disregard this post and another one will follow with some baby girl name suggestions! 

You can always save the boy names for the next baby!

It's a Scrabble Life

"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

   did gyre and gimble in the wabe.

All mimsy were the borogoves,

  and the mome raths outgrabe."

Thus, begins the Lewis Carroll poem, Jabberwocky, from the novel, Alice Through the Looking Glass.  The poem is a long-time favorite of mine because of the many nonsensical words it uses so masterfully.  I was reminded of it recently during a game of Scrabble.  

For those who are immersed in the Scrabble universe, as I am now, our own English language contains its own share of nonsensical-looking words that can be used to dominate the game.  A fact I learned, somewhat painfully, from my friend and neighbor, Betty. 

It's been way too long since I sat down to write anything, and I was missing the creative outlet, so I thought I might write a short story of one such occasion.  Sadly, the story is typical of my experience with the game. Thanks for giving it a read.

Have a frabjous (fabulous + joyous) day!

It’s a Scrabble Life

Sitting downstairs in the family room, Tom and his neighbor, Betty, play a spirited game of Scrabble, that classic word game that tests not only one’s vocabulary and spelling ability, but also their skill and strategy in this intellectual war of words.  

Though woefully outmatched by Betty’s advanced Scrabble IQ, Tom plays undaunted, hoping for his first win, having lost more times to her than he can count.  More than halfway through the game, though, the score stood at Tom with 117 points and Betty with 322 points. 

“That is MIAOW for 11 points,” Betty said.

“What, perchance, does that mean?” Tom inquired. 

“It’s a verb meaning to meow.”

“Ahh, I should have suspected as much.  I seem to remember you spelling it with a ‘U’ instead of a ‘W’ before.”

“That’s correct.  Both spellings are acceptable.”

“Seriously?  Something hinky about there being so many words to describe a sound from a cat, don’t you think?  What is wrong with just MEOW for chrissakes?” 

“Don’t get testy.  I’m just going by the Official Scrabble Players Dictionary, 4^th edition, which also includes the words MEOU and MIAUL as alternative words for MEOW.”

“Question, do you read anything besides the Scrabble dictionary?  Why on Earth do you know all these weird words?  You know names of monetary units, musical instruments, animals, plants, foodstuffs, units of measure, clothing, and everything else from ancient times to present and from all over the globe?”

Betty folded her hands together on the table, rested her chin on them, and gave an impish grin. "Ignorance is the curse of God; knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven."

“Really?  You’re quoting Shakespeare to me now?  That doesn’t explain why you know so much.”

“Oh, I can’t be completely sure.  Probably because I have an eidetic memory.   Plus, I have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, particularly ancient history.  It’s true, though, that I have read the entire Scrabble Dictionary.  Also, I have travelled extensively, visiting all seven continents in my many years on this Earth.  But I don’t believe that is why I destroy you each time we play Scrabble.”

“Then what is it then?”

 “I just like the look on your face when I clobber you with a high-points value word.”

“Oh yeah, well take this then.  The word is KOTOW, double word score for 24 points.”

“Awesome word!  And that gives me an “O” so I can put down XENOPUS, a South African frog, double word score for 34 points.”

“Talk about obscure!  Only you would know to use XENOPUS. You are formidable at this game, Betty, but some day I will play you and emerge victorious.  Not today, of course, but someday.  When I have better letters and am not stuck with 5 vowels.  Okay, my word is GAS, triple word scores 12 points!”

“Great.  I’m adding MBAQAN to the GAS for MBAQANGAS, a type of South African dance music, for triple word score and a double letter score for “N”, that is 72 points.”

“I know I say this often, but it bears repeating at moments like this.  I hate you.”

Betty leaned back in her chair, laughing hysterically.  She looked at her rack of letters, and her latest letter tiles acquisition, which included the letters Z, J and a blank tile, and smiled devilishly.  The fun was just getting started.

Tips For Keeping A Happy Relationship

Guys, have you ever found yourself wanting to tell your lady friend something, but then stopped yourself because you recognized that it contained a potential emotional landmine? It could be something completely innocuous, yet triggers an explosive response culminating in an irate squabble that takes days to cool off from.

I thought about this after having a weird dream recently.  I found it curious and a bit humorous and wanted to share it with my wife, but then I thought better of it.  Why?  Life experience has shown that it is not always the best path to follow.

“Who was in the dream?  Was I in the dream?  Why not?  Were you single in the dream?  Did you have a girlfriend?  Was she younger and cuter than me?  You’re a big, lying, cheating pig and I’m going to cut you in your sleep, you bastard.”

BOOM!  You just stepped on it, and, at minimum, it could take roses and a box of chocolate to repair the damage done to your relationship.  I’m not saying that some women are a bit insecure or prone to violence (cuz a guy could get seriously messed up if he did) but there are rules that need to be followed in order to maintain a harmonious relationship, and a key one is to keep your mouth shut whenever possible.

I think sometimes guys feel so comfortable with their mates that they think they can tell them anything that they could tell their friends and there will be no repercussions.  Rookie mistake.  Say, for example, you told your friend you saw your ex at the mall.  No big deal.  They acknowledge it, use some pithy statement like “it’s a small world” or something like that, and it’s over.  Move on to the next subject. 

If you told your wife or girlfriend the same thing?  BOOM! 

“Did you talk to her?  How did she look?  Was she alone?  How did it make you feel?  Do you miss her?  I bet she probably works out and looks great now, doesn’t she?  What was she wearing?  Are you still attracted to her?  Did you sleep together?  How long has this been going on?  You never loved me, did you?  I can’t believe you would do this to me, I trusted you!  Get out of the house, you miserable jerk!”

As a public service to those whose life experience hasn’t already taught them this life lesson, I am sharing some thoughts that might prevent some unnecessary strife in your relationship. 

Comparing your mate in any unflattering way, no matter how slight, can be deadly, such as “I like my mom’s spaghetti sauce better.”  And God save you if you say your ex was better at ANYTHING.  Your woman is the best at everything.  Period.

“Fine.”  If she asks you how something is, don’t use this word to describe anything to her.  Better to just remove it from your vocabulary altogether.  Use more colorful words like “That sandwich was scrumptious” or “Your blouse looks absolutely stunning.”  The exception to the rule is if she says another woman is beautiful, and asks “don’t you think so?” Astute guys will instantly recognize this as a trap and will always respond “no” or “I hadn’t noticed.”

Any reference at all to her appearance, hygiene, eating habits and sexual proclivities are off limits.  So, if she walks in sporting some botched perm or nightmare hair dye fiasco, her breath smelling of onions and canned tuna, and wearing makeup that appears to have been applied with a trowel, mums the word.  Remember, she is the embodiment of perfection.  If she asks, “be honest, does my (insert question about her appearance here), sweetie?”  Don’t take the bait.  She’s looks exquisite.  Always. End of story.  Proffer any other type of response?  BOOM!

Finally, women hate it when guys assume something is too complex for them to understand and couldn’t possibly grasp the intricacies of it, like auto mechanics, for example.  In fact, a new slang word, mansplaining, has been added to the lexicon to define men explaining something to women in a sexist or patronizing manner because the subject matter is presumably too difficult to for them to comprehend because they are females.  BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!  Your woman is a genius.  She chose you, didn’t she?

Of course, there are plenty of other landmines to avoid, but that would probably fill a couple of volumes. However, I hope this raises awareness of some of the things we, as guys, do that offend and otherwise provoke our gorgeous, intelligent, wonderful, creative, utterly amazing women, and that it helps to avoid an explosive faux pas in the future.

A foolish man tells a woman to stop talking, but a wise man tells her that her mouth is extremely beautiful when her lips are closed.

The Advent of Tom 2.0

There comes a time in everyone’s life…

No.  

That’s not right.  I don’t presume to speak for everyone. 

Outside of an occasional metaphorical wrench thrown their way, for many people their lives are an agreeable experience from start to finish.

However, for a myriad of reasons many of us find ourselves living lives where happiness is an infrequent visitor at best.  So, we put on a happy face and boldly try to push through the pain, the anxiety, the sadness and whatever else is trying to hold us back from living a more fulfilling life.  Some lower their expectations of what a happy life would be like to make it appear more attainable.

Such is my life.

For a very long time I have been caught up in this cycle where being “just okay” has become my standard of happiness.  But it is an absent and unfulfilled type of happiness; just an empty shell of what could be.

Until today.   

        

The time in MY life has come where I have decided to reach out and press the pause button on the hamster wheel of life.

Call it an epiphany, or just someone too fed up to go another day trapped in the same lackluster routine, but I made the decision to reinvent myself today.  To take a step back, evaluate what works and what needs immediate change, and then embark on that journey now instead of later. 

To create Tom 2.0.

I invite you to follow along and look forward to reading any advice, thoughts and suggestions you might have for me.

Let the games begin!

Waiting To Die

Midnight arrived and, as expected, the subtle strains of Guy Lombardo found its way through the thin apartment walls amid loud cheering and laughter.  

For Tim there was no reason to celebrate.  Depressed and alone, the happy sounds served only to mock him and make him feel even worse.  

His joy and fun-loving spirit had long-since been wrung from his soul like a wet rag.  Between the three bad marriages, lousy sales jobs, perpetual money troubles, and mercilessly painful health issues, he couldn’t remember his last New Year’s Eve reverie.

In the dim glow of the nearby corner streetlamp, he sat upright in bed and stared blankly at his reflection in the mirror.  His grizzled face now wore the signs of age and endless worry.  His sullen expression spoke of a tragic life riddled with sadness and adversity.  

Once full of hopes and dreams, his eyes now told a story of bitterness, pain and defeat.   His ragged, grey beard, dark circles and wrinkled, blotchy skin made him look much older than his 54 years. 

He secretly hoped that this year would be his last.

“This year,” he mused, “this year will be better, I think,” as he slowly laid down and buried his head in his pillow, the same tear-stained one that had muffled oh so many silent screams. 

The Snowbirds Are Leaving!

Many years ago when I lived in California I had a co-worker named Ron who lived in Arizona.  He used to constantly complain about “Snowbirds,” the term coined to describe these retired refugees from the North who invaded the state each year seeking refuge from the harsh winters back home.  Like a lot of the natives here, Ron wasn’t particularly keen about this annual incursion, and the subsequent effects it had on his daily life.  In fact, he couldn’t wait for May or June to come along with its triple-digit temps to send these elderly interlopers packing.

“Oh my God, they are a horrible menace to safe drivers everywhere!  They drive sooo slow, and then stop on the freeway, usually during rush hour, and wait for someone to let them merge into the next lane!  They will be the death of us all!”

Naturally I just assumed it was the melodramatic, insensitive rant of an intolerant, middle-aged curmudgeon.  I mean, who would dare take an angry swipe at the elderly?  Now its thirty years later and I find myself living in Arizona and dealing with the same “Snowbird” issues and, quite frankly, not liking it a whole lot.  Apparently I have morphed into someone a bit more curmudgeonly, insensitive and intolerant in my middle age.  (This might help explain the whole Trump phenomena. I’m not sure.)

In fairness, many Arizonans become the very thing they detest each year when they invade San Diego to avoid the blistering heat here at home.  The San Diego natives even have a derogatory name for them - “Zonies.” 

Nonetheless, I am finally happy to report that our long Arizonan nightmare is almost over!  Complaints about this rampaging herd of grizzled old senior citizens include their weird speech, funny clothes, and penchant for inconveniencing and annoying the hell out of the natives with their poor driving and camping out at restaurants for hours at a time (and not tipping well, to boot!)  Of course reports of this type of behavior are at best an unfair and blatant form of ageism as most seniors conduct themselves respectfully and with consideration for others.

Unfortunately we live in a world filled with stereotypes. For example, some believe that people from the Deep South are dim-witted, gun-loving, NASCAR-watching, racist, redneck, white trash.  This is not entirely true.  Others brazenly claim that all women are terrible drivers.  Again, this is an exaggeration.  It’s just that the 92% of them that have difficulties with the task make it look bad for the 8% that drive just fine.  I’m just kidding, of course.  Women are really super great drivers.  

(My wife told me to say that.)  

Another common stereotype is that many people feel that Donald Trump supporters, and Republicans in general, are hateful, bigoted, self-righteous, insensitive, hypocritical, lying, ill-informed, greedy buffoons.

Okay, so maybe that last one is a bad example.

My point is that even though stereotypes are wrong and hurtful, sometimes…well…they sure seem true (even if they absolutely are not) and it is easy to make generalizations about people, such as the elderly, for example, but also so completely unfair at the same time.  Yet some persist in believing what they will because of what is happening around them, regardless of looking at the bigger picture.

Dealing with elderly drivers is nothing new to us in Arizona.  We live near the community of Sun City, a veritable mecca for retirement living. Many are the times I have been stuck behind cars at stop lights where the drivers have apparently drifted off into some quasi-narcoleptic trance. 

Honk the horn, you say?  I do, but apparently that only further confuses them. 

We are used to them slowing down and putting on their blinkers a mile ahead of their turn, or using the road reflectors as some kind of auto braille-type device to try and keep a fixed position on the road.  I mean, just because they learned to drive during the Hoover administration is no reason to disrespect them.

Of course I can’t really blame these elderly drivers for their poor driving performance.  I imagine if I was similarly trying to navigate my old Lincoln Town Car, craning my neck to see over the steering wheel past the expansive hood of this monstrously large land yacht while sinking into the plush leather seats, I too might not notice that my left blinker has been on since the first Bush administration. 

Okay, so they drive slowly.  And sometimes they swerve into other lanes.  And maybe once and a while they connect with parked vehicles and stationary objects.  Is that any reason to be upset?   And who cares if they have funny accents or end every other sentence with an “Eh?”  In the final analysis, does it really matter if one pronounces the word “about” as “aboot” or uses the word “zed” instead of saying “zero?”  At least they are very, very polite about it. 

Likewise, you can’t fault people from Canada or the states for not being as fashion forward as those of us in Arizona.  Their style is their own and shouldn’t be ridiculed because it doesn’t measure up to ours.  It is certainly not hard to pick out the snowbird in a room though.  Something about him screams out-of-towner.  Could it be the short sleeve button down shirt with the sweater vest?  Perhaps it is the pastel blue shorts hiked well over his waist with the black oxfords and white socks.  Maybe it is the weathered Vikings baseball cap hiding a silvery plume of hair.  It’s anyone’s guess, really.

None of those things matter anymore, though, as the snowbirds are leaving us.  The grand exodus has begun, and like the bygone caravans of covered wagons which travelled Westward bringing settlers seeking a better life, the Spring migration of RV’s and assorted out-of-state vehicles are returning to their respective homes to places like Canada, Minnesota, Montana, North Dakota, Illinois, New York, and other similar frozen wastelands.  At least until the freezing snow, biting cold and sub-zero temperatures lure them back to our sunny state.  Safe travels, snowbirds! 

To quote a certain song by a famous Canadian songstress, Anne Murray, “Spread your tiny wings and fly away.”

A Different Approach for A Safer World

I haven’t done a rant in a while, but I have long-since surpassed my threshold for this type of blind ignorance and feel a serious need to brush aside the cobwebs from this blog and rage a little bit until I find some shred of serenity.  Or run out of wine.  Either way, here goes.

Some people just love their guns more than life itself.  

The raw, explosive power to wreak unimaginable horror upon others. The blood, the gore, and the agonizing screams and fearful wails of their victims.  The power to destroy lives with the twitch of a finger.  It’s a murderous obsession little boys are raised with.  

What guy can’t relate to playing pretend war with their toys or wiping out scores of people playing a Grand Theft Auto-type video game?  There's a little Rambo in all of us, my friends. Some of us just manage to push it to the rear of our subconscious while others, like George Zimmerman, celebrate it like a right of passage.

It is said the average child has seen 8,000 depictions of murder by the end of elementary school while the average teenager has seen about 200,000 depictions of violent acts by age 18.  Together with movies and television shows our society is increasingly desensitized to the violence and mayhem all around us.  

So when killers burst upon the scene as they have recently, shooting men, women and children with no more conscience than the act of swatting a fly, you have to wonder how far will it go?  Will Kevlar clothing be the costume de rigueur of the future? 

The former Mayor of New York Michael Bloomberg announced this week that he is investing 50 million dollars toward the formation of an organization he is calling  Everytown, which he describes as “a movement of Americans working together to end gun violence and build safer communities.”  

On Wednesday's "Today" show he remarked that "people will vote for whoever they think is in their own self-interest to get elected and re-elected...we've got to convince them that the 80 percent of gun owners, the 90 percent of Americans who are in favor of just simple background checks to make sure criminals, minors and people with psychiatric problems can't buy guns—something that's common sense—we've got to make sure they understand that's what the public wants."

And while I admit that this is a very positive step in the right direction, I am not particularly confident that any amount of money, even tens of millions of dollars, can have more than a token impact against an imbedded enemy with the resources, organization and political connections of the NRA.  

How can Everytown even begin to reverse or slow the damage that the NRA and their paid-for political lackeys have caused?  Competing campaign contributions would be a losing battle.  I suppose an appeal to their humanity could...nah, who am I kidding.  

What chance has a public relations campaign aimed at winning over the hearts of heartless politicians and the knuckle-dragging gun nuts that elected them? Something has to be done to stop this endless bloodshed and bring some common sense reforms to the table, but in all likelihood it won't happen.

Not if the NRA has anything to say about it.

Polls show the majority of Americans favor background checks, mandatory safety classes, better regulations, as well as vigorous enforcement of existing gun laws and severe punishment for violators.  Common sense gun control.  This does NOT mean (and I will type this very slowly for some of you that don't read too good)  confiscating   your   guns.  

But the powerful NRA lobby, which buys politicians like you and I buy milk, has the clout and resources to bring defeat to those brave enough to defy them and reward those Senators and Congressmen who fall in line with their hard line anti-gun control stance.  And it doesn’t matter to them how many innocent children get slaughtered, how many men and women have to die, or how many families have to suffer the loss of a loved one.  Corporate greed is the only thing that matters to them.

Of course the NRA points to it as being just collateral damage in the continuing struggle to maintain our second amendment freedoms.  You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs after all, right?  This is especially true when it’s other people’s eggs and not their eggs.

But wait a minute, what if it was their eggs?  Instead of spending 50 million dollars to mount a grassroots campaign hoping to change the hearts of Americans in favor of stricter gun laws, what if a different course of action was taken.  

What if we took that money and paid it to some homegrown assassins, the same gun-toting whack jobs the NRA defends as true American patriots and freedom fighters, and told them to start picking off the families of the NRA executive committee.  

Would their viewpoints on the second amendment change one iota if it was Wayne LaPierre’s wife and children being systematically splattered against a wall?  One has to wonder how many of their directors, officers, high-profile members and most vocal supporters would have to be sacrificed to the cause before something approaching sanity began to well up within their ranks.  

Perhaps going after the families of the major donors would also help to quickly move forward the gun control cause.  Would there even be a gun lobby left to plea for surrender?

Of course this is simply the musings of a man.  And like many others, he just wants an end to the carnage.  And he's getting downright frustrated by politicians who give the topic lip service with every massacre.  I wouldn't really incite violence against anyone.  No matter how brilliant and effective I thought the idea was. 

Not right now, anyway. 

Even though the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.  

Even though those sacrificed for the better good would later be called heroes or patriots...freedom fighters even.  

I’m sure Wayne LaPierre has nothing to fear from a modest proposal such as this.  After all, I’m just one person.  A little disturbed at times, but who isn't, right?  I don't even own a gun. 

Not yet.  

In the meantime this is just food for thought for me and you and all the other millions of people who would like to see our children come home from school safe and sound each day and not have to worry about them being shot by psychos with assault rifles purchased at the local gun show.   

Yes, it is an interesting idea all right.  Just think of the headlines, "NRA Executive Director Shot and Killed" or "Gun Lobby Group Gunned Down in D.C."   Would they still maintain that guns don't kill people then?   It's a good thing ideas like this don't spread outside of our tiny little blogosphere where it could do damage.  I shudder to think how some irresponsible people could take this idea and actually follow through with it.  The results could be...well, amazing.

It's probably a good thing I don't own my own television network.  

Yeah, that would be scary.

An Incredible Day, A Saturday Centus

.

Hi everyone!  It’s been awhile since I posted anything.  I’ve been busy unpacking and settling into our new place in Arizona and haven’t paid much attention to the blog.  But the itch to write is strong and luckily for me I have Jenny Matlock’s continuing meme Saturday Centus to keep me inspired.  Yes, I know, it’s not Saturday, but I got a note from Ms. Matlock, so settle down.  You still have time to post your own story for week 178 by going to Jenny’s website, off on my tangent.

This week Jenny has given us the word “Amazing” as our prompt and instructed us not to use it in our stories.  Instead we are to write a story or poem that reflects the concept of amazing without stating it.  Oh, and it is supposed to be no more than 100 words and not include any vulgarity.     

Well, one out of two isn’t too bad, right? 

Here is my somewhat expanded entry for this week.  I have entitled it:

An Incredible Day

"Hi honey, I’m home!  I have a surprise for you!"

"Aww, Rainbow Roses, my favorite!"

"Well, I heard about a florist downtown that carried them so I got you a couple dozen just to say I love you." 

"How sweet of you!  How was your day?"

"It was crazy.  First, I was struck by lightning walking to my car.  Then at work the owner came by my cubicle and told me how much he appreciated my excellent contributions to his company and promoted me to vice president!  At lunch I went home and put together an Ikea Entertainment Center wall unit while watching an entire episode of Honey Boo Boo without feeling sorry for humanity.  On the way back to work I stopped for gas.  Only $2.36 per gallon, can you believe it?  I asked the guy for directions to the flower shop and was heading back to my car when I was struck by lightning again.  Later at work I met with the local Tea Party leadership and convinced them to fully support all of President Obama’s initiatives.  They even decided that abortions were an okay form of birth control.  It was weird.”

“Enough!  I call shenanigans!” 

“Why?  Don’t you believe me?”

“No.  There’s no way you asked for directions.”

It is a well-documented fact that guys will not ask for directions. This is a biological thing. This is why it takes several million sperm cells... to locate a female egg, despite the fact that the egg is, relative to them, the size of Wisconsin.

                                                      --  Dave Barry