Yesterday afternoon I walked past a funeral home. Near the edge of their property was a large sign reading, "FREE." My immediate thought was that, "this has got to be good," and it was. No, the thought to keep walking never occurred to me.
There was a large brick planter that holds the huge name signage of the funeral home. Something German, I think. Lying on the rim of the ledge of the planter were a two button navy blue suit and a navy blue double breasted blazer. They were constructed of what appeared to be only the finest polyester. As well there was a pair of men's size 8 1/2 black wing tip shoes. Leaning against the side of the planter were about two dozen 18" x24" bulletin boards. Finally, there was also an average sized acrylic suggestion box (empty).
I like to believe that I have a fairly active imagination but, I have not as of yet been able to come up with an explanation here. The best I have been able to figure out is; maybe the next of kin required a couple three wardrobe changes before being satisfied? That might explain the shoes and the clothing but, what about the two dozen bulletin boards and the suggestion box? Who knows, perhaps the departed was not familiar with PowerPoint and wanted to take suggestions and an old-school presentation to the pearly gates. He of course learned at the last moment that he couldn't take them with him. On the other hand, perhaps the funeral home thought that rather than placing the stuff in the dumpster, someone may find it useful?
BTW: Wouldn't you just about go naked before wearing those clothes or shoes?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Baby Steps
It was an absolutely beautiful weekend! We have also gotten the new week off to a great start with high temperatures expected in the mid-eighties. I am so affected by the weather; it makes me do things out of character. Today, for the first time in my adult life I presented myself to the world in sandals (new Bass ones) without socks. Can you friggin' believe it?
Even as a child I had an unnatural disgust and embarrassment about my feet. I always looked upon them as god's mistake that only I acknowledged. Why the change? Well, I put on those little ankle sock thingies I wear this time of year and then the sandals. The look appeared somehow corrective to me and uncomfortable to boot (pun intended). My feet felt much cooler without the socks (pun not intended). Hmmm, why did I not think of this before? After staring at my feet for several minutes and then at the sandals, a pedicure followed. Yes, a pedicure. I wouldn't want anyone to believe that they have been fooled by me walking upright. Pedicure complete and creamy emollients applied, I was ready. I walked around the house for 20 minutes or so just to get the feel of things. I was comfy and not horrified by the sight.
I needed something from the store so I decided to walk. Would you believe that not one single person looked at my feet. And it wasn't like when you see someone who is deformed and you remember your mom telling you that, "it's not polite to stare." No one grabbed their little ones to their beast in an attempt to shield them from the horror. I did constantly look down while casually judging the faces I passed. No one seemed to give a sh*t about my feet except for me, imagine that? About half way into my mile walk I was totally fine with it all.
I guess the "moral" to the story might be that no one really cares about our insecurities and hang-ups quite like we do. They may not even care at all. Knowledge is truly power, man. And with this knowledge I am now confident that someday, (probably soon) I may well be seen in public with a dress shirt sans undershirt. Dare to dream.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Better Than Therapy
So, yesterday afternoon I found the missing bow saw. It was under a bunch of stuff in the garage. How it got there or why I did not see it the first four times I looked in that place is beyond me. I realize now that it had been hiding from me. It knew that I would tire it out as I did.
There is a tree in the far right corner of the lawn, a stately and once more beautiful Blue Spruce. The lawn slopes downward where the tree stands so, unless you actually walk over to that corner you would never even notice how over grown the tree was. It is so huge and the branches and limbs so gigantic that when I mow the lawn I have avoided the thing. It was almost scary. It had grown for three or more years without pruning. It had branches that were less than two feet above the ground. They are or I should say were ten feet out-stretched. When I would come near the thing the branches would reach out and try to grab me like that killer tree from the old SNL skit but, more sexual. It would caress my neck and the back of my head. I swear it did! I had wanted to do something about all this but I could not find the saw and my mind made it easy to forget about the molesting tree until the lawn needed mowing again.
What a friggin' job. The trimmings produced a mound about five feet high and roughly seven feet wide at the curb. Somehow the whole process was therapeutic in a way. The sawing motion was somehow very relaxing for me. When you add that I am very anal and the imagined result of a well trimmed tree ready to continue to grow skyward you may well understand how good it was for me. The trimming of each branch seemed to energize me further. An hour or so later when the tree was once again a thing of beauty, a wave of sadness came over me as I stared at the bow saw.
I then looked about the yard and there were both real and imagined branches and limbs that needed to come down all over the property. In my controlled madness I sawed vigorously the limb of a tree of undetermined specie near the curb. The neighbor stopped what he was doing to watch. His expression was distracting as if he knew that there might be a better way to address whatever would cause me to attack even a dead limb with such determination. I quickly waved giving him the universal sign to stop watching me. I continued with my work and then it happened. I had misjudged the connecting limbs and branches. The thing although dead was huge and was it not for my cat-like reflexes... Covered with sawdust and sweat it was now time for a shower. What a fine mood I was in for the rest of the evening.
There is a tree in the far right corner of the lawn, a stately and once more beautiful Blue Spruce. The lawn slopes downward where the tree stands so, unless you actually walk over to that corner you would never even notice how over grown the tree was. It is so huge and the branches and limbs so gigantic that when I mow the lawn I have avoided the thing. It was almost scary. It had grown for three or more years without pruning. It had branches that were less than two feet above the ground. They are or I should say were ten feet out-stretched. When I would come near the thing the branches would reach out and try to grab me like that killer tree from the old SNL skit but, more sexual. It would caress my neck and the back of my head. I swear it did! I had wanted to do something about all this but I could not find the saw and my mind made it easy to forget about the molesting tree until the lawn needed mowing again.
What a friggin' job. The trimmings produced a mound about five feet high and roughly seven feet wide at the curb. Somehow the whole process was therapeutic in a way. The sawing motion was somehow very relaxing for me. When you add that I am very anal and the imagined result of a well trimmed tree ready to continue to grow skyward you may well understand how good it was for me. The trimming of each branch seemed to energize me further. An hour or so later when the tree was once again a thing of beauty, a wave of sadness came over me as I stared at the bow saw.
I then looked about the yard and there were both real and imagined branches and limbs that needed to come down all over the property. In my controlled madness I sawed vigorously the limb of a tree of undetermined specie near the curb. The neighbor stopped what he was doing to watch. His expression was distracting as if he knew that there might be a better way to address whatever would cause me to attack even a dead limb with such determination. I quickly waved giving him the universal sign to stop watching me. I continued with my work and then it happened. I had misjudged the connecting limbs and branches. The thing although dead was huge and was it not for my cat-like reflexes... Covered with sawdust and sweat it was now time for a shower. What a fine mood I was in for the rest of the evening.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
A New Shirt for Les or ... Less
Two things you have probably already learned about me from reading here is that, I read a lot (some might say too much) and I am frugal (some might say a cheapskate). When I can combine activities that satisfy both those basic needs, whoopee!
Among other genre, I read men's fashion magazines. While reading one such publication earlier in the week I came across a $25.00 off coupon from a well know department store. Possessing a rather lengthy list of retail disappoints in my life, I read the coupon carefully three times. It was true. The coupon was for the store's men's department only and was not one of those blank dollar off a greater dollar amount like, $25.000 off $100.00 or more as I first thought. This coupon clearly stated that it was for $25.00 off period. So, as long as I purchased one cent or more, I could use the coupon. Any unused portion would of course be forfeited. Naturally so, no one is going to pay you to take merchandise away even in this economy. The only slight down side here was that I could not use the coupon for cologne or socks, both of which I really need.
Friday night I made my way to probably the ugliest and largest mall I have ever or hope to see. An architectural embarrassment, the structure looks like a giant white prison. After driving what seemed like at least a half mile to a side of the mall, there I was at the store's entrance. I walked in an within sixty seconds was asked by two very attractive women if I would help them select a rain coat for the brunette. No, they did not believe that I worked there. The white coat was the nicest. The tan one looked very much like one my mother owns but, let's not go there. Believe it or not the women offered to take me for a drink as a thank you for my help. "No thanks," incredibly hot ladies, I have a coupon to spend! I made my way to the second floor and eventually to the men's department.
Around and around the department I went and it seemed that the only items approved by the coupon that were $25.00 or less were neck ties and three shirts in my size hanging on a discounted rack. Yes, yes I do realize that I could have applied the coupon to an item greater than $25.00 but, I was a tad annoyed that they did not seem to have any items that were less than $39.99. I felt a little tricked.
While the floor plan and displays were cleaner and more eye-catching, the quality of the merchandise was not any better than that you might purchase from stores this one would consider their lesser. Not bad stuff at all, just a bit over-priced. I imagine I must have roughly 75-100 neck ties so, the choice of a shirt seemed to have been made for me. The choices were; a white one, a celery one and a black one. They were all button up dress shirts. The white one and the celery one carried the store's label and the black one was Ralph Lauren. If all else fails wear black! The Lauren shirt was a perfect fit and it's tag claimed a regular price of $58.50 and was marked down to $19.99. I then stood at the register for far too long before a salesperson appeared.
The funny part here and there is always a funny part is, that the sales dude tried to convince me that because of the $5.00 difference between the shirt and the coupon, I should keep the coupon for another time. "Here, I'll give you a 20% off coupon to use," he said as if my IQ was a few points shy of 75. Hmmm, I wondered aloud..., "20% off or free?" Never missing an opportunity for sarcasm, I offered, "while that was a remarkably generous offer you have just put forth, I'll take free!" He seemed very disappointed when I added that I would and could forfeit the $5.00 difference as per the coupon. I almost pranced to the car.
I suppose from a marketing perspective the store got what they wanted; a new customer who would not have otherwise come to their store and who walked out with merchandise. I will definitely check next month's magazine issue for another coupon in the very real possibility that the store does not see it's folly.
Among other genre, I read men's fashion magazines. While reading one such publication earlier in the week I came across a $25.00 off coupon from a well know department store. Possessing a rather lengthy list of retail disappoints in my life, I read the coupon carefully three times. It was true. The coupon was for the store's men's department only and was not one of those blank dollar off a greater dollar amount like, $25.000 off $100.00 or more as I first thought. This coupon clearly stated that it was for $25.00 off period. So, as long as I purchased one cent or more, I could use the coupon. Any unused portion would of course be forfeited. Naturally so, no one is going to pay you to take merchandise away even in this economy. The only slight down side here was that I could not use the coupon for cologne or socks, both of which I really need.
Friday night I made my way to probably the ugliest and largest mall I have ever or hope to see. An architectural embarrassment, the structure looks like a giant white prison. After driving what seemed like at least a half mile to a side of the mall, there I was at the store's entrance. I walked in an within sixty seconds was asked by two very attractive women if I would help them select a rain coat for the brunette. No, they did not believe that I worked there. The white coat was the nicest. The tan one looked very much like one my mother owns but, let's not go there. Believe it or not the women offered to take me for a drink as a thank you for my help. "No thanks," incredibly hot ladies, I have a coupon to spend! I made my way to the second floor and eventually to the men's department.
Around and around the department I went and it seemed that the only items approved by the coupon that were $25.00 or less were neck ties and three shirts in my size hanging on a discounted rack. Yes, yes I do realize that I could have applied the coupon to an item greater than $25.00 but, I was a tad annoyed that they did not seem to have any items that were less than $39.99. I felt a little tricked.
While the floor plan and displays were cleaner and more eye-catching, the quality of the merchandise was not any better than that you might purchase from stores this one would consider their lesser. Not bad stuff at all, just a bit over-priced. I imagine I must have roughly 75-100 neck ties so, the choice of a shirt seemed to have been made for me. The choices were; a white one, a celery one and a black one. They were all button up dress shirts. The white one and the celery one carried the store's label and the black one was Ralph Lauren. If all else fails wear black! The Lauren shirt was a perfect fit and it's tag claimed a regular price of $58.50 and was marked down to $19.99. I then stood at the register for far too long before a salesperson appeared.
The funny part here and there is always a funny part is, that the sales dude tried to convince me that because of the $5.00 difference between the shirt and the coupon, I should keep the coupon for another time. "Here, I'll give you a 20% off coupon to use," he said as if my IQ was a few points shy of 75. Hmmm, I wondered aloud..., "20% off or free?" Never missing an opportunity for sarcasm, I offered, "while that was a remarkably generous offer you have just put forth, I'll take free!" He seemed very disappointed when I added that I would and could forfeit the $5.00 difference as per the coupon. I almost pranced to the car.
I suppose from a marketing perspective the store got what they wanted; a new customer who would not have otherwise come to their store and who walked out with merchandise. I will definitely check next month's magazine issue for another coupon in the very real possibility that the store does not see it's folly.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Hills have thighs
Speaking of television, how are you supposed to tell which of the half dozen or so vapid blonds on The Hills is which?
I saw The Hills for the first time last week. That guy on The Soup always makes fun of the show. The Hills was unbelievable! I do not believe I have ever seen anything so bad, ever, ever. It was so badly acted, sadly written, poorly cast and not even a train wreck. A train wreck would have had interesting elements. I was amazed. I kept waiting for something to happen like maybe Allen Funt suddenly appearing and telling everyone to smile, or perhaps an alien popping out of Spencer Pratt’s hair or something, anything. I watched a couple more episodes out of curiosity and in a vain attempt at figuring it all out. I understand that this show has been on the air for 2 or 3 years. How? Even pre-adolescents must be insulted. It’s amazing. It’s directed as if it is an actually a real show. Somebody please tell me what I am actually missing here. I do realize that I am not getting something because the mess has a spin off called The City and yet another called Kell on Earth or some such truck. The City is the same crap as The Hills only a different locale and Kell on Earth is just another odd “reality” show about being 20 and someone’s bitch or rather assistant. Both Hills and City need several rewrites just to be classified as stupid in my opinion.
Help me out here. What am I not getting?
I fully realize that I am not super smart. I suppose if there’s smart, I’m actually Kmart smart. But, I can usually figure out friggin’ TV. One of my favorite things to do is to tune into Univision. Then with a Spanish/English dictionary at the ready, I can figure out 98-99% of what’s going on. Very often with the sound muted I make up my own story lines complete with jokes that are responded to by the laugh track in my head. I thank teachers and a school system that extruded me way back when elective courses were in their infancy. I digress. My point is that I can’t figure out what the heck The Hills is supposed to be about.
I'm a vampire... or maybe not.
Around a quarter to six last evening I took a nap. I woke up an hour later scratching the left side of my neck. I even applied hydrocortisone which only helped a little. I finally went into the bathroom to check out my neck in the mirror. There, there on my neck were two tiny red spots about 1/16th of an inch apart. I thought it odd for bug bites because they were identical and so close together. Then I thought…
Holy Twilight Batman, I’m a vampire. But, wouldn’t I remember having the blood drained from me by some incredibly good looking undead as seen on TV? I wouldn’t remember it if I fainted from the shock?
I put alcohol on the bites. –Nothing, they still itched. It finally occurred to me that maybe it still itched because I kept futzing with them. I applied more itch cream.
I then went to the kitchen table and tried to remember what happened in the movies when people were made Slurpees by the undead. None of it seemed to apply so, I started dinner. I found the pork chops and apple sauce most satisfying and didn’t crave blood even once. I haven’t grown fangs but, I do always look great in black, especially with a cap. The day light doesn’t seem to bother me and I ate ice cream for dessert. I guess I’m not a vampire after all but, the bites are still there.
Then it occurred to me. New windows were installed in my room earlier in the day. Who knows what sort of bugs/insects might have made themselves indoors? See there? There’s always a plausible explanation which is never as exciting or as cool as what you have seen on television.
Holy Twilight Batman, I’m a vampire. But, wouldn’t I remember having the blood drained from me by some incredibly good looking undead as seen on TV? I wouldn’t remember it if I fainted from the shock?
I put alcohol on the bites. –Nothing, they still itched. It finally occurred to me that maybe it still itched because I kept futzing with them. I applied more itch cream.
I then went to the kitchen table and tried to remember what happened in the movies when people were made Slurpees by the undead. None of it seemed to apply so, I started dinner. I found the pork chops and apple sauce most satisfying and didn’t crave blood even once. I haven’t grown fangs but, I do always look great in black, especially with a cap. The day light doesn’t seem to bother me and I ate ice cream for dessert. I guess I’m not a vampire after all but, the bites are still there.
Then it occurred to me. New windows were installed in my room earlier in the day. Who knows what sort of bugs/insects might have made themselves indoors? See there? There’s always a plausible explanation which is never as exciting or as cool as what you have seen on television.
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