Rancho Mirage, CA - As perplexing as it sounds, an extensive investigation has revealed there hasn’t been a single confirmed Lindsay Lohan sighting in over a week.
“No, nothing”, reported long-time neighborhood blabbermouth Elsa Wentworth. “She ran in and grabbed some clothes”, the vodka-swilling, OCD victim said, gesturing over her right shoulder, “and a couple of paperbacks, but that was Tuesday before last. Since then - nothing”.
The development is particularly shocking considering the 24 year-old pseudo-actress and full-time rehab clinic resident’s exploits have been constant fodder for on-line and print tabloids since she first blew a “double-deuce“ after a traffic stop in Santa Monica in 2007. Ardent followers of Ms. Lohan’s often drunken, self-destructive exploits were left to sift through last week’s news, or simply speculate on what new depths the “mean girl” would visit in coming weeks.
“I heard she’s still using drugs”, offered Frieda Vogel, celebrity-worshiping, pathetic shell of a human being. “They’re sneaking it in to her. I mean, c’mon, it’s Lindsay”. “I heard she was into this new Zen yoga kind of thing”, spurted pill abusing, manic-depressive, celebrity-whore Melinda Davies without even being asked. “It’s like Tai Chi, but way cooler”.
“Somebody told me she‘s totally like, blimped-up at Betty Ford, and she‘s going to be doing like, these Nutrisystem commercials”, chimed in some guy named Trent or something, as if anyone cared. “And, she hasn’t updated her Facebook in like, weeks.”
While TMZ is reporting that someone who “looked like” and “could have been” Lindsay was spotted flashing cars on the Redlands Freeway from a Cook Street overpass night before last, as of this moment no independent confirmation has been forthcoming.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Rearranging the Deck Chairs
I’d like to preface my remarks here with the following disclaimer: If you still believe in Santa Claus, stop reading - now.
Okay, then. To get to the issue at hand: I have come to believe that the way we elect our government officials is a lot like how we lie to our kids about Santa. At first, when they’re way young, we want them to believe. We tell them to believe in this jolly old man in a red suit that comes down the chimney (even if we don’t have a chimney), and brings us toys and stuff. Hell, we want to believe it ourselves. We want to reclaim a tattered remnant of our innocent youth. And, that‘s completely understandable.
As the kids get older, however, it becomes more difficult to sell the lie, to get them to swallow the whole jolly old man from the North Pole routine. They start asking questions. They hear things from other kids. They wonder how elves make smart phones and High School Musical DVD’s in a workshop with a hammer and nails. Eventually, you fess up: “Yes it was your Father and I all along. Don’t look at me like that - we spent enough on you to buy a new BMW 535i“.
We weren’t just lying to the kids all those years; we lied to ourselves. We wanted to believe we still lived in a world where a person’s word meant something, where character still counted, where the good guys win in the end. Where everything could be cured with gingerbread men and tree trimmings.
And every couple of years, we engage in that same fantasy, as we march out of the polling place, head held high, proudly displaying our “I Voted” sticker, believing we have made a difference. Confident we have made the “right choice” because our party, or our movement, or our platform is the best for us and our fellow Americans.
You can almost hear the sleigh bells, and smell those chestnuts roasting on that open fire.
I submit that regardless of the person or party you vote for, it is not the right choice. And, I submit that deep, down inside - you already knew that. You choose what you perceive to be the lesser of however many evils, although in your heart of hearts, you know none of them would spit on you if you were to burst out in flames in front of them.
For the majority of my adult life, regardless of the political affiliation of those in the white house (and state house, and house of delegates, and senate), several things have happened:
Millions of American jobs have been lost to other countries.
The personal wealth of the average working-class American has steadily dropped.
Housing, fuel, and heath care costs have sky-rocketed.
Our infrastructure has slowly crumbled.
Many of our streets have become increasingly unsafe to walk after dark.
Our national debt has increased.
Our quality of life has suffered, and
We can no longer seriously consider ourselves to be an economic superpower.
Yet we persist in not only tolerating, but engaging in these semi-annual dog-and-pony shows foolishly believing that the ship will be righted if only “our guy” wins. Our entire political process is about two shampoo and auto insurance commercials away from becoming a really bad reality TV show, because nothing any candidate says during the campaign has any relevance whatsoever once the polls close.
I submit that all we’re doing is rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. We know the ship’s going down, but it is the ship we’re on, and, well - we want it to look nice. We see others rearranging deck chairs, and there’s a certain comfort in being part of a group - any group. Even if that group is about to plunge into icy, shark-infested waters. At least we won’t go alone.
And the band plays on.
Okay, then. To get to the issue at hand: I have come to believe that the way we elect our government officials is a lot like how we lie to our kids about Santa. At first, when they’re way young, we want them to believe. We tell them to believe in this jolly old man in a red suit that comes down the chimney (even if we don’t have a chimney), and brings us toys and stuff. Hell, we want to believe it ourselves. We want to reclaim a tattered remnant of our innocent youth. And, that‘s completely understandable.
As the kids get older, however, it becomes more difficult to sell the lie, to get them to swallow the whole jolly old man from the North Pole routine. They start asking questions. They hear things from other kids. They wonder how elves make smart phones and High School Musical DVD’s in a workshop with a hammer and nails. Eventually, you fess up: “Yes it was your Father and I all along. Don’t look at me like that - we spent enough on you to buy a new BMW 535i“.
We weren’t just lying to the kids all those years; we lied to ourselves. We wanted to believe we still lived in a world where a person’s word meant something, where character still counted, where the good guys win in the end. Where everything could be cured with gingerbread men and tree trimmings.
And every couple of years, we engage in that same fantasy, as we march out of the polling place, head held high, proudly displaying our “I Voted” sticker, believing we have made a difference. Confident we have made the “right choice” because our party, or our movement, or our platform is the best for us and our fellow Americans.
You can almost hear the sleigh bells, and smell those chestnuts roasting on that open fire.
I submit that regardless of the person or party you vote for, it is not the right choice. And, I submit that deep, down inside - you already knew that. You choose what you perceive to be the lesser of however many evils, although in your heart of hearts, you know none of them would spit on you if you were to burst out in flames in front of them.
For the majority of my adult life, regardless of the political affiliation of those in the white house (and state house, and house of delegates, and senate), several things have happened:
Millions of American jobs have been lost to other countries.
The personal wealth of the average working-class American has steadily dropped.
Housing, fuel, and heath care costs have sky-rocketed.
Our infrastructure has slowly crumbled.
Many of our streets have become increasingly unsafe to walk after dark.
Our national debt has increased.
Our quality of life has suffered, and
We can no longer seriously consider ourselves to be an economic superpower.
Yet we persist in not only tolerating, but engaging in these semi-annual dog-and-pony shows foolishly believing that the ship will be righted if only “our guy” wins. Our entire political process is about two shampoo and auto insurance commercials away from becoming a really bad reality TV show, because nothing any candidate says during the campaign has any relevance whatsoever once the polls close.
I submit that all we’re doing is rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. We know the ship’s going down, but it is the ship we’re on, and, well - we want it to look nice. We see others rearranging deck chairs, and there’s a certain comfort in being part of a group - any group. Even if that group is about to plunge into icy, shark-infested waters. At least we won’t go alone.
And the band plays on.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The Seven Greatest Inventions in the History of Humankind
I read somewhere that someone has decided to come up with a list of the so-called "new seven wonders of the world". These were voted on by an estimated 100 million people (or almost twice as many as last season's American Idol finale) and the winners announced earlier this month. I don't have a complete list in front of me, but suffice to say neither the World's Largest Ball of String or Rocky Balboa's athletic supporter made the final cut. These things have turned into such total beauty pageants if you ask me.
In any event, this got me to thinking: wonder, schmunder, what are the greatest inventions of all time? I mean things that someone actually had to think of, and maybe even sketch on a papyrus, or the back of a Taco Bell bag.
So, I decided to compile my own list. My criteria was simple: I started with 206,817 things and eliminated them one by one. Just a few that didn't make the final cut include the iPod, penicillin, guacamole dip, Super Soakers, and fingernail clippers. (I know, that one barely missed.)
But, I wanted to keep the list manageable (and who really wants to read The 206,817 Greatest Inventions in the History of Humankind), so here we go:
7. Microwave Oven - Ever tried to re-heat mashed potatoes in a pan on the stovetop? Good luck.
6. Legos - I have it on good authority that someone built a 1:124 replica of the U.S.S. Enterprise out of Legos. Not only does it float, it was also 2.7 million dollars over budget!
5. Zip-lock Baggies - This was an easy choice. Think about it. They're light, they're cheap, they're air-tight, and you can store enough leftovers in a single quart-sized zip-lock bag to feed 1.75 moderately hungry people. Let's see someone top that.
4. Mass Spectrometer - Okay, I admit, I have no idea what a mass spectrometer does, but the name is just so cool. Like something out of a 1950's science-fiction movie.
3. Ice Cube Tray - Ever wonder why some people call refrigerators iceboxes? Because in the early days, that's pretty much what they were. Big, ugly boxes that sat in the corner of your kitchen with a compartment underneath where you'd put a big block of ice. If you wanted a cold drink you'd have to put it in the icebox and wait. And wait. And wait. Til it was cold enough to drink. Then, the ice cube tray was invented. The early ones were metal and had a big handle running down the middle. You'd pull the handle, and one of two things would happen: absolutely nothing, or an ice cube explosion with cubes flying everywhere, most of which wound up on the floor. But, you'd salvage a few, and within minutes your drink would be cold. Or at least colder than it would be otherwise.
2. Velcro - You know you love Velcro.
1. Pocket T-shirt - Originally, all t-shirts were white and sleeveless, what some people call "wife-beaters". I prefer to not use that term, as I've found some wife-beaters find it offensive. Eventually sleeves were added, and many years later someone had the brilliant idea of adding a pocket. A t-shirt. With a pocket. You could put things into the pocket. A comb, a photograph, a bean burrito. And, now they come in different colors. You could actually wear a different colored pocket t-shirt every day of the week, and two on Sunday, and still not run out of colors. You can wear them while doing yard work, or running errands, or pretending to do yard work. You can wear them as pajama tops, or something to throw on when the doorbell rings. The possibilities are endless. And, the absolute greatest thing about the absolute greatest invention in the history of humankind is that they cost about the same as a pound of cheddar cheese.
Well, that's it for now, but coming up next month: The Seven Greatest Inventions Sold Exclusively on Infomercials on Cable TV Between the Hours of Ten PM and Four AM.
In any event, this got me to thinking: wonder, schmunder, what are the greatest inventions of all time? I mean things that someone actually had to think of, and maybe even sketch on a papyrus, or the back of a Taco Bell bag.
So, I decided to compile my own list. My criteria was simple: I started with 206,817 things and eliminated them one by one. Just a few that didn't make the final cut include the iPod, penicillin, guacamole dip, Super Soakers, and fingernail clippers. (I know, that one barely missed.)
But, I wanted to keep the list manageable (and who really wants to read The 206,817 Greatest Inventions in the History of Humankind), so here we go:
7. Microwave Oven - Ever tried to re-heat mashed potatoes in a pan on the stovetop? Good luck.
6. Legos - I have it on good authority that someone built a 1:124 replica of the U.S.S. Enterprise out of Legos. Not only does it float, it was also 2.7 million dollars over budget!
5. Zip-lock Baggies - This was an easy choice. Think about it. They're light, they're cheap, they're air-tight, and you can store enough leftovers in a single quart-sized zip-lock bag to feed 1.75 moderately hungry people. Let's see someone top that.
4. Mass Spectrometer - Okay, I admit, I have no idea what a mass spectrometer does, but the name is just so cool. Like something out of a 1950's science-fiction movie.
3. Ice Cube Tray - Ever wonder why some people call refrigerators iceboxes? Because in the early days, that's pretty much what they were. Big, ugly boxes that sat in the corner of your kitchen with a compartment underneath where you'd put a big block of ice. If you wanted a cold drink you'd have to put it in the icebox and wait. And wait. And wait. Til it was cold enough to drink. Then, the ice cube tray was invented. The early ones were metal and had a big handle running down the middle. You'd pull the handle, and one of two things would happen: absolutely nothing, or an ice cube explosion with cubes flying everywhere, most of which wound up on the floor. But, you'd salvage a few, and within minutes your drink would be cold. Or at least colder than it would be otherwise.
2. Velcro - You know you love Velcro.
1. Pocket T-shirt - Originally, all t-shirts were white and sleeveless, what some people call "wife-beaters". I prefer to not use that term, as I've found some wife-beaters find it offensive. Eventually sleeves were added, and many years later someone had the brilliant idea of adding a pocket. A t-shirt. With a pocket. You could put things into the pocket. A comb, a photograph, a bean burrito. And, now they come in different colors. You could actually wear a different colored pocket t-shirt every day of the week, and two on Sunday, and still not run out of colors. You can wear them while doing yard work, or running errands, or pretending to do yard work. You can wear them as pajama tops, or something to throw on when the doorbell rings. The possibilities are endless. And, the absolute greatest thing about the absolute greatest invention in the history of humankind is that they cost about the same as a pound of cheddar cheese.
Well, that's it for now, but coming up next month: The Seven Greatest Inventions Sold Exclusively on Infomercials on Cable TV Between the Hours of Ten PM and Four AM.
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