With apologies to The Go-Gos, vacation may be all *they* ever wanted, but for me, what I always seem to want or need is a vacation to recover from my vacation.
Take this past weekend, for example ...
We traveled to an in-law family reunion in Pennsylvania, driving out last Thursday and returning on Sunday. Now, most people who drive 1,200 miles in a roughly 96-hour period are usually being paid 50 cents a mile, eat at places like "The Choke N Puke", and register in the Denim Department at Farm and Fleet.
We, of course, did none of that. We paid for the privilege, with the Ohio Turnpike Commission soaking, I mean, asking, the most, at $13.50, to travel across their flat, I mean, fine, state. We ate homemade peanut-butter sandwiches and drank our own bottled water because there's something inherently unfair in being asked to pay $6 for a Starbucks half-caf, double-caramel, frappa-mocha-chino in the vente (and you must say it using your best Thurston Howell III voice) cup at the super-overpriced turnpike rest area.
Speaking of which: there's something inherently pretentious and just plain loco about paying $4 for the same thing here in DeKalb. "But I must have my coffee in the morning!" That's fine, but what you're drinking when you order the vente half-caf, double-caramel, frappa-mocha-chino is not, I repeat, not coffee. Okay, it's maybe 1% coffee, 85% foamy stuff (if they use real, dairy whipped cream, I would be shocked, nay, stunned), and 14% imitation caramel (imitation caramel consists of 90% high frustose/sucrose corn syrup, 8% thickening agent, and 2% caramel flavoring).
So, let's all admit it ... you Starbuckaroos out there ... you're paying $4, not for coffee, but for the "prestige" of being seen with a Starbucks cup in your hand. I love the prestige too, but I hate coffee, and have never bought anything for myself from a Starbucks. But I carry the cup proudly (I stole an empty cup and a lid from a Starbucks on the Ohio Turnpike and carry them wherever I go), and bask in the warm glow of superiority that can only come from the ability to wildly overpay for something.
Anyway, getting back to vacation ...
When we arrive, we are shuttled briefly to my sister-in-law's cabin in the woods. Her and her husband have built a nice cabin on a piece of property they own across the road from their home. It is a lovely little cabin; spacious, with running water, electricity, and full bathroom (with shower). I enjoyed staying there, and we have a standing invitation to use the cabin again the next time we go home.
My daughter, on the other hand, hated the cabin. Well, she liked the cabin. What she hated was the zero-reception on her cell phone. She practically threw herself on the floor, wailing, "But I have no cell phone service!!"
Well, the Donner Party had no food, but they ate each other to survive their ordeal. I suggested that she eat her phone in order to survive hers.
Of course, the cell phone reception belied a deeper issue ... the lack of contact with the boyfriend (and that, alone, could be a whole other post at a later date). Because nothing say, "I'm into you" like the warm glow from your BlackBerry as it displays the 100,000th "I miss you" message since you last checked your text messages; which was about 30 seconds ago.
Those of us over the age of 20 will remember a time when nothing said "I'm into you" like the warm and tender look from our significant other as we sat across from each other at a table, sharing a pizza, holding hands and getting all tongue-tied trying to find the right words to say. You know, real words, like "I love you" or, "You know, I really like you." Not fake wordz lyk "I luv u" or "Ur da shiz".
Imagine if Sir Paul McCartney were alive today (He died just after they recorded "Abbey Road". I know this to be true because I read it on Wikipedia, or maybe paulisreallydead.com, something like that). His big hit with Wings would have been:
"Ja Tink Da Peeps Done Be Ovah Trippin' Luv Songz (NTTAWWT)"
But I disgress, as the words "boyfriend" and "vacation" are about as relevant to each other as "thin" is to "Charles Barkley".
Anywhoodles, (a term my daughter introduced me to, and which I hated the minute I heard it but, doggone it, much like a Ce-Lo Green song, it's kinda catchy and it grows on you until one day, you hear "Forget You" on the radio and not only start singing along, but start yelling, "There's my MAN, CE-LO!!" You know what I'm talkin' 'bout!)
Anywhoodles, vacation went well. Tiring, but well. I snored just often enough and just loudly enough to scare away the owls, badgers, bears, wildebeasts, whatever, that lurked in the woods in the dead of night. I ate just enough food to last a couple of lifetimes, and perhaps enough hot dogs to possibly challenge that Kobyashi guy next summer at Coney Island. On second thought, I hate soggy bread, and the thought of dunking a hot dog and bun into water before eating makes my stomach turn.
I'm such a wuss.
July 11, 2011
June 30, 2011
Non-Apology Apologies ...
It's all the rage these days for someone in the spotlight, be they an athlete, politician, or celebrity, who has done something shameful to make a formal, public apology through the media. These apologies are meant to show the public that a person is truly sorry for what they have done, and, please, buy whatever it is that I'm hawking these days.
Here's what that apology sounds like:
"I would like to take this time to apologize to (insert focus group or demographic du jour) if I have offended anyone with my recent (comments/photos/tweets/appearance on "The View")."
Here's what they're really saying:
"Look, folks, I said/did something you did not like at all. But if you think I'm sorry about what I said or did, I'm not. I am sorry that I got caught, because you know I'm not gonna be able to go anywhere and not hear about this. At least not until someone else puts their foot in it, which should be about this time next week."
And people eat these apologies up like they were bacon cheeseburgers wrapped in bacon and smothered in cheese.
Because this non-apology apology wasn't available when I was growing up, I'd like to go back and apologize to a few folks:
-- To my wife: I'm sorry if you were offended by my spending money on some stuff you didn't approve of, like my golf clubs. Or if I said something unkind that you took offense to, like how you look like Bela Lugosi when you have your facial scrub on. Or if I forgot to write a check in the checkbook for something I didn't want you to know about, like that hooker in San Diego. Really, you shouldn't get bent out of shape over this stuff so easily. But, because you do, I'm sorry that you made yourself so upset.
-- To that girl in high school who I insulted (you know who you are): I'm really sorry if my calling you an "unrepentant bitch" upset you so. The fact that it's true shouldn't diminish that my bringing it to your attention caused you emotional pain and suffering the likes of which have only been felt by every other teenager in the history of the universe. That you carry those scars with you to this day in the form of four failed marriages and three children who all have restraining orders against you, is something I rarely think about, except when I need cheering up. Again, I apologize if my honesty was taken as a personal insult by you. You really should develop a thicker skin.
-- To the sales clerk who tried to sell me an extended warranty on a pet goldfish: I'm sorry if my suggestion to you, which may be physically impossible to do now that I think of it, offended you. As you work in retail, you understand that most of us are tired of being assaulted daily in an attempt to empty our wallets at the feet of Corporate America. So, if I offended your sensibilities with my remarks, I apologize, and suggest you might be better suited working outside the public eye so you won't be so sensitive to criticism.
Imagine, if you will, what the world would have looked like had the non-apology apology been invented long, long ago in a galaxy exactly like our own ...
From: Pharaoh
To: Moses
Re: Apology
I would like to apologize to the Israelites if they were offended at being forced into bondage during my reign. While we can agree that conditions for your people were not what one would call "ideal", it was necessary to do what we did in order for our aggressive public construction programs to move forward without hesitation. If you, or your people, were offended by the manner in which we achieved these great monuments to modern technology, I apologize on behalf of the Egyptian people (or at least those who matter, like the nobility).
From: Martin Luther
To: Pope Leo X
Re: So sorry
It has come to my attention that the posting of my Ninety-Five Theses has caused a great deal of commotion at the Vatican. If Your Holiness is offended by my having done so, I apologize. I would point out that these theses point up many of the problems within the Church today, and I had hoped that you would have received these suggestions for improvement in the spirit in which they were intended. Because you are offended by the mere suggestion that the Church is engaged in questionable practices, I offer my humble apology, and suggest that the punishment of Excommunication is a bit, shall we say, harsh, considering the crime?
From: John Wilkes Booth
To: Mary Todd Lincoln
Re: last night
Please accept my apologies if you took great offense to my assassinating your husband last evening at Ford's Theater. I realize that I should have waited until after the performance, since you had purchased box seat tickets, and that was rather inconsiderate. I reiterate that the cause for which I shot your husband is a noble one; one which history will judge to be fair and glorious. That I have offended your sensibilities, gentle lady, is something I must carry with me to my grave. And for that, I offer my most humble apologies.
What we need, as a society, is not wordsmithing and spin-doctoring, but a return to the most basic of rules: be accountable for your actions. When we start apologizing, merely to appear that we're sorry when, in fact, we're only sorry we got caught, we lose the most noble thing anyone can do ... admit the mistake and genuinely apologize, not just for the hurt we've caused, but for doing or saying the hurtful thing in the first place.
We also need to be okay with the fact that once you do something, it can't be undone, and that even the most sincere apology may not be accepted. Because sometimes, the hurt goes well beyond what can be forgiveable.
In any case, it's my hope that the non-apology apology goes the way of the dodo ...
Here's what that apology sounds like:
"I would like to take this time to apologize to (insert focus group or demographic du jour) if I have offended anyone with my recent (comments/photos/tweets/appearance on "The View")."
Here's what they're really saying:
"Look, folks, I said/did something you did not like at all. But if you think I'm sorry about what I said or did, I'm not. I am sorry that I got caught, because you know I'm not gonna be able to go anywhere and not hear about this. At least not until someone else puts their foot in it, which should be about this time next week."
And people eat these apologies up like they were bacon cheeseburgers wrapped in bacon and smothered in cheese.
Because this non-apology apology wasn't available when I was growing up, I'd like to go back and apologize to a few folks:
-- To my wife: I'm sorry if you were offended by my spending money on some stuff you didn't approve of, like my golf clubs. Or if I said something unkind that you took offense to, like how you look like Bela Lugosi when you have your facial scrub on. Or if I forgot to write a check in the checkbook for something I didn't want you to know about, like that hooker in San Diego. Really, you shouldn't get bent out of shape over this stuff so easily. But, because you do, I'm sorry that you made yourself so upset.
-- To that girl in high school who I insulted (you know who you are): I'm really sorry if my calling you an "unrepentant bitch" upset you so. The fact that it's true shouldn't diminish that my bringing it to your attention caused you emotional pain and suffering the likes of which have only been felt by every other teenager in the history of the universe. That you carry those scars with you to this day in the form of four failed marriages and three children who all have restraining orders against you, is something I rarely think about, except when I need cheering up. Again, I apologize if my honesty was taken as a personal insult by you. You really should develop a thicker skin.
-- To the sales clerk who tried to sell me an extended warranty on a pet goldfish: I'm sorry if my suggestion to you, which may be physically impossible to do now that I think of it, offended you. As you work in retail, you understand that most of us are tired of being assaulted daily in an attempt to empty our wallets at the feet of Corporate America. So, if I offended your sensibilities with my remarks, I apologize, and suggest you might be better suited working outside the public eye so you won't be so sensitive to criticism.
Imagine, if you will, what the world would have looked like had the non-apology apology been invented long, long ago in a galaxy exactly like our own ...
From: Pharaoh
To: Moses
Re: Apology
I would like to apologize to the Israelites if they were offended at being forced into bondage during my reign. While we can agree that conditions for your people were not what one would call "ideal", it was necessary to do what we did in order for our aggressive public construction programs to move forward without hesitation. If you, or your people, were offended by the manner in which we achieved these great monuments to modern technology, I apologize on behalf of the Egyptian people (or at least those who matter, like the nobility).
From: Martin Luther
To: Pope Leo X
Re: So sorry
It has come to my attention that the posting of my Ninety-Five Theses has caused a great deal of commotion at the Vatican. If Your Holiness is offended by my having done so, I apologize. I would point out that these theses point up many of the problems within the Church today, and I had hoped that you would have received these suggestions for improvement in the spirit in which they were intended. Because you are offended by the mere suggestion that the Church is engaged in questionable practices, I offer my humble apology, and suggest that the punishment of Excommunication is a bit, shall we say, harsh, considering the crime?
From: John Wilkes Booth
To: Mary Todd Lincoln
Re: last night
Please accept my apologies if you took great offense to my assassinating your husband last evening at Ford's Theater. I realize that I should have waited until after the performance, since you had purchased box seat tickets, and that was rather inconsiderate. I reiterate that the cause for which I shot your husband is a noble one; one which history will judge to be fair and glorious. That I have offended your sensibilities, gentle lady, is something I must carry with me to my grave. And for that, I offer my most humble apologies.
What we need, as a society, is not wordsmithing and spin-doctoring, but a return to the most basic of rules: be accountable for your actions. When we start apologizing, merely to appear that we're sorry when, in fact, we're only sorry we got caught, we lose the most noble thing anyone can do ... admit the mistake and genuinely apologize, not just for the hurt we've caused, but for doing or saying the hurtful thing in the first place.
We also need to be okay with the fact that once you do something, it can't be undone, and that even the most sincere apology may not be accepted. Because sometimes, the hurt goes well beyond what can be forgiveable.
In any case, it's my hope that the non-apology apology goes the way of the dodo ...
June 15, 2011
And So It Begins ...
What do you do when you wake up one morning, feeling that somewhere inside you is a Dave Barry or Monty Python or Lenny Bruce just waiting to express itself?
Years ago, you might have started a journal or a diary. You might have sought out a nightclub and tried your hand at an amateur stand-up night. You might have thought about writing a book or a newspaper column. Most likely, regardless of your lot in life, these would have been mere ideas; you wouldn't have executed them, for a variety of reasons.
But today, thanks to the very medium you're using to read this, you can actually do all of those things and still keep your day job. In fact, there's no shortage of folks on the Internet who are quite happy and content to remind you that you shouldn't quit said job after reading your postings and blatherings.
Which brings me to why I'm here.
I've always fancied myself as someone with a particularly good sense of humor. I enjoy wordplay, puns, satire; intelligent comedy that requires you to think, to know, and to understand the world around you in order to understand the joke.
Unfortunately, my sense of humor is also my self-defense mechanism. It's what switches itself on in situations where I am the least comfortable.
Case in point: the very first time I said goodbye to my girlfriend/fiancee/current wife when we were dating in college, I had no problem making jokes about everything. It ticked her off, but I couldn't help myself; I was hurting inside, but I couldn't bring myself to show it on the outside. I've already been warned that when we finally meet my daughter's boyfriend, I am NOT to tell any jokes.
A few days ago, I woke up with the idea that I should write a humorous blog. I don't really know where the idea came from. It's nothing I had discussed with others. Nothing I had been secretly thinking about, or planning, at any time in my life. I just woke up and decided that I wanted to try and be funny, on purpose, to entertain others.
And so it begins ... a loopy, sometimes sentimental, but always irreverent look at the world I've known for as long as I've been alive. Not every joke will hit the mark. Not every sentimental moment will draw out so much as a sad sigh. Not every observation will be shared by all.
I hope you'll enjoy wherever this takes us; you, as reader, and me, as author.
-- Brien
Years ago, you might have started a journal or a diary. You might have sought out a nightclub and tried your hand at an amateur stand-up night. You might have thought about writing a book or a newspaper column. Most likely, regardless of your lot in life, these would have been mere ideas; you wouldn't have executed them, for a variety of reasons.
But today, thanks to the very medium you're using to read this, you can actually do all of those things and still keep your day job. In fact, there's no shortage of folks on the Internet who are quite happy and content to remind you that you shouldn't quit said job after reading your postings and blatherings.
Which brings me to why I'm here.
I've always fancied myself as someone with a particularly good sense of humor. I enjoy wordplay, puns, satire; intelligent comedy that requires you to think, to know, and to understand the world around you in order to understand the joke.
Unfortunately, my sense of humor is also my self-defense mechanism. It's what switches itself on in situations where I am the least comfortable.
Case in point: the very first time I said goodbye to my girlfriend/fiancee/current wife when we were dating in college, I had no problem making jokes about everything. It ticked her off, but I couldn't help myself; I was hurting inside, but I couldn't bring myself to show it on the outside. I've already been warned that when we finally meet my daughter's boyfriend, I am NOT to tell any jokes.
A few days ago, I woke up with the idea that I should write a humorous blog. I don't really know where the idea came from. It's nothing I had discussed with others. Nothing I had been secretly thinking about, or planning, at any time in my life. I just woke up and decided that I wanted to try and be funny, on purpose, to entertain others.
And so it begins ... a loopy, sometimes sentimental, but always irreverent look at the world I've known for as long as I've been alive. Not every joke will hit the mark. Not every sentimental moment will draw out so much as a sad sigh. Not every observation will be shared by all.
I hope you'll enjoy wherever this takes us; you, as reader, and me, as author.
-- Brien
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