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January 31st, 2007
I overheard someone comment on the death of the worlds oldest woman at 114, They said that is so sad. Why is that? Did they know her? No, they responded, but they saw her on TV and she was so sweet. What the fuck?
Is that how we judge the measure of a persons life now, by a 30 second puff piece on the evening news? How do we know she was not an alcoholic who beat her kids, molested the neighbors cat and gave away Ex-Lax brownies on Halloween?
What is about death that elevates everyone to sainthood? Not a single child molester, abusive husband, or cheating wife died on September 11, 2001. Hurricane Katrina missed every tax cheat, crack dealer, and devil worshiper in the south.
Is everyone going to say nothing but nice things about me when I die? God, I hope not. I am who I am and proud of it.
January 31st, 2007
Well its been a few days, and with very good reason. I am simply overloaded. I can not decide what the hell to write about.
Do I explore the 500 Million dollar radio system that Governor Ted wants for Oregon, that anyone with three brain cells to rub together knows is going to cost the taxpayers a cool billion by the time all is said and done.
How about the multiple smoking bans and taxes that everyone wants to impose on me and my fellow cancer junkies because as we all know, cigarette smoke is the only cancer causing agent in our environment.
There is always the war in Iraq, because even though Ole George works for us, he’s going to press forward whether we like it or not.
I could bemoan the cancellation of Armed and Famous, seeing as how the CBS programing monkey put it up against American Idol, a show I’m proud to say, I have never watched.
I could always go after the Oregon Department of Corrections, whose food purchasing agent decided its OK to serve our prisoner’s bait fish and expired bologna provided he gets his kick back.
You see what I’m getting at. Unless someone does something terminally stupid, wait one, that won’t work, that is a more and more common occurrence, I’m going to lay off the politics for a while. I have a lot of stuff going on in my head, and that’s what you are going to see here in the coming weeks.
For now, I’m off to bed. I feel the need to curl up in the fetal position and pull the covers over my head.
January 28th, 2007
I am starting to think that I must be a racist, at least by the most common definitions. This question has been an internal dialog that has been going on for years, so I figured I would put the question to you, in an attempt to resolve this dilemma.
The first time I was a victim of racism was in 1982, while stationed aboard the USS John F Kennedy. I received threats from the "Kennedy Klan" and when I tried to bring the threats to the attention of my Division Officer, I was told that people in "this part of the country" just don’t take kindly to Jews. Allrighty then. I slept with a dogging wrench under my pillow, made friends with some very large black Muslims, and got by the best that I could.
I remember the first time i was called a racist. It was just after the 1992 Los Angeles Riots. I was living in Hawthorne at the the time, a little town that bordered South Central LA. It had been a "bedroom community" for the aerospace industry until the end of the financial boom of the 80’s. With the loss of the jobs, so went the neighborhood. I watched as the aerospace workers, now unemployed, left the apartment building I was managing with X #1, and a new less savory crowd moved in. I would rent to anyone who could pass the credit check, except for the one gentleman who showed me a pearl handled .38 as a reference. My 12 guage pistol gripped pump shotgun turned him down.
At the time I was employed at a large electronics company as head of security. I got involved in a conversation in the break room about the cause and aftermath of the riots. When I made the comment that the riots were about the beating of Rodney King and the resulting verdict in favor of the Officers who beat him, for about the first hour and everything after that was just plain lawlessness and people taking advantage of the situation, I was labeled a racist by a black employee. He told me in some detail that I would never be able to understand the rage of people acting out after 200 years of oppression. Not wanting to reignite the riots right there in the warehouse, I bit my tongue, and held myself back from pointing out that the Jews had been oppressed for thousands of years and you never saw us looting the local Quickie-Mart.
Now with this deep insight into the impact of racism, you would think I would be Mr Politically Correct, forever watchful to the sensitivities of my fellow man. Well…SCREW THAT!!!!!
I think we have gone beyond the point of Political Correctness and entered a major state of lunacy. In a recent article, The Oregonian pointed out the disciplinary action taken against an Oregon worker for showing a out of state newspaper column to a co-worker, who in turn showed it to another worker who became offended. Worker #2 goes crying to Human Resources, and Worker #1 gets the shaft.
Now the source of this dastardly deed was a syndicated column called…ASK A MEXICAN, which is written by a Hispanic (imagine that) investigative reporter named Gustavo Arellano out of Orange County, California. I have read the column, and you know what, it is funny, insightful, and pokes holes in the ethnic stereotypes of Hispanics in America. Is it offensive? Hell no.
Listen, whether we like it or not, stereotypes exist and the reason they exist, is that like most myths, they contain a grain of truth. It is that truth that makes ethnic jokes funny. Ive said before that you have no business laughing at other people until you can laugh at yourself, so I’m the first one to tell a good Jew joke.
How was copper wire invented?
Two Jews fighting over a penny.
We need to lighten up and stop and taking ourselves so seriously. With all the other crap going on in the world and our nation, we need to just let this stuff roll off our backs, have a good laugh and get on with the business of living. Now, I’ve got the seed of an idea on how to fix this once and for all, but I need some time to work out a few of the details. Stay tuned.
January 25th, 2007
Yesterday I got the shock of a lifetime, the first incontestable proof that I am getting old. No, it was not gray pubes, no mailers welcoming me to AARP, no paralyzing fear at the sight of a teenager on a skateboard. Those would be easy to deal with, hardly worth mentioning. No this was far more insidious, chilling me to very core.
Stop laughing, this is not funny dammit!!!! If you don’t stop that insipid giggling I won’t tell you the story. I’m waiting. I have all day. Oh come on now, its not that funny. Well screw you then.
You see, I have refused to grow up. To my way of thinking, grown ups are these anal retentive, up tight creatures that look like they have not taken a dump in ten years. Go find a picture of Richard Nixon and you will know what I’m talking about.
Oh, I have matured, especially in the last few years. Events in my life have made that impossible to avoid. I have had to deal with things that very few people, even those older then my 43 years, have had to deal with. I have become more responsible, especially when it comes to my finances. My tastes have become more refined, my work ethic has become stronger and more positive, and yet with all these changes, I won’t give up my addiction to comic books, video games, cartoons, cool toys and really bad science fiction movies.
I can not and will not give up the simple joys of youth, the wonderment of a star filled sky, the first step on virgin snow, a good healthy stomp in a puddle. When someone tells me to act my age, I proudly stick out my tongue, flip them the bird and give them good old fashioned raspberry.
So what was it that did me in? Forced me to reach for my Metamucil and Geritol? What mosterous act forced me to see the end of my life as I know it?
Yesterday I stopped by the bakery outlet to grab a loaf of bread. I was in the parking lot, and happened to glance at my receipt and there it was, in black and white, undeniable proof of my advancing years…..
Senior Discount 10%
January 23rd, 2007
Todays rant comes from the FOX News website. You can find the full text of the story here. It begins:
An American GI assigned to one of the harshest posts in Iraq had a simple request last week for a Wisconsin mattress company: send some floor mats to help ease the hardship of sleeping on the cold, bug-infested ground.
What he got, instead, was a swift kick from the company’s Web site, which not only refused the request but added insult to injury with the admonition, "If you were sensible, you and your troops would pull out of Iraq."
The Company in question is Discount-mats.com. This Wisconsin based company, whose web site is registered to one Faisal Khetani, an American Muslim of Pakistani descent, has said that the individual who sent the reply email has been fired.
Now I realize this is America. Land of the free, home of free speach, but what the fuck is this crap. Hey Faisal, don’t you realize these are the people who not only buy your products, but these are the folks who DEFEND the liberty you enjoy here.
Damn, Im so angry I can’t even put together a sentance, let alone say what I am thinking. If this guys website ever comes back up, you know what to do.
January 22nd, 2007
I guess I’m what the X would call a "Fair Weather " sports fan. I have never been very athletic, never really played team sports, unless you count one disastrous season in Pee Wee basketball. None the less, Pro Sports were a big part of my upbringing.
My dad was the original super fan. It didn’t matter what it was, basketball, baseball, hockey, football and I suspect he was a closet curling fan, he would watch it whenever he was home. He had a particular fondness for basketball, I suspect because he had a personal relationship with some of the greats of the game in the 70’s. Al Attles, Keith Erickson, and Nate Thurmond were all family friends. We would go to games when ever the Golden State Warriors were in town, and always go to the clubhouse and locker room afterwards. You would think with that kind of influence I would be a rabid basketball fan, right? Yea…not so much. I just never got that far into it.
When the X and I first moved to Portland, she was thrilled to live in a city with an NBA team. Growing up in rural Montana, all she had was High School football to root for. Her enthusiasm was contagious, we went to a few games, watched them on TV, cheered them onto yet another winning season. NOT!!
There came the scandals, the fourth quarter loses, the prima donas with the seven figure incomes. When the Trailblazers became the Jail-blazers, I gave up on them. I was through being embarrassed by an overpayed, overindulged bunch of whiny school kids who couldn’t win if you held a gun to their collective heads. My joke was , "Did you hear that the Blazers have petitioned the NBA to eliminate the fourth quarter so they could win a game or two."
Well here we are, half way through the 2006-2007 season and The Blazers are 2nd to last in their division with a record of 17 wins and 25 losses. They are a young team, with very little control and have yet to sort out a starting line up that can consistently deliver. And you know what…I’m a fan again!!!!
I read the sports page every day, listen to the games on the radio whenever I can, and am planning on going to a game before the season ends. I will support my home team in any way I can.
For one very simple reason.
They have gone the entire first half of the season without embarrassing me. No one has been arrested, thrown things at their coach or fans, flipped off officials, or engaged in any of the other behavior that made the old Jail-blazers the bad boys of the League.
My yarmulke is off to Nate and the boys for their behavior on and off the court. Take your time guys, sort things out, practice hard, figure out what works, learn from your mistakes. We have all the time in the world. If you can’t make it happen this season, I will understand, it takes time to build a team. Be patient with your coach and team mates, your all learning this stuff together. Some of you will be traded, don’t take it too hard, you did your very best and we, the people of Portland, are proud of each and every one of you.
I do have this warning for you. If just one of you is every pulled over in your Hummer, smoking crack with a dog fight going on in the back seat and a dead hooker in the trunk, we are outta here. A fan can only take so much.
January 22nd, 2007
"The country is in the grip of brutal winter. Crops are freezing. Cattle are stranded. Airports snowed in. Highways shut down. Cities Paralyzed. Wheres all that Global Warming Al Gore keeps promising us?"
Leonard R Powers
Beaverton Oregon
January 21st, 2007
There is another crisis of global proportions looming on the horizon. The Young Russian is suffering from Jeans Shrinkage, a malady affecting more and more young woman these days. Her jeans are growing tighter and tighter.
Now personally, I kind of like it. Guys, you haven’t lived until you have watched your lady do what I affectionately call the Jeans Wiggle, that little dance they do when trying to take off an overly tight pair of jeans. She has yet to be able to explain the cause of this shrinkage to me, but she swears it cant be the result of Chocolate, 1000 calorie Starbucks drinks, cake, pies, cookies, and heaven forbid your beloved authors cooking. Instead, it appears that Dryer Gremlins are the leading candidate for blame.
She has become convinced that the slight tummy bulge she has developed can be seen from the moon and apparently her ass blocks most major intersections. I don’t really see it, but what woman is going to trust the word of a mere man when it comes to her figure. They ask for our opinion, just so long as we promise to not be entirely truthful. If you are, and say the wrong thing at the right time of the month, it’s either to the dog house or the morgue for us.
Last week she vowed she was going to do battle with the Evil Dryer Gremlin by returning to her old habit of running. My own philosophy about exercise is this, I’m allergic to it. Every time I do it, I break out…in a sweat. Running is something you do when being chased by either a big dog or an angry husband. Certainly not something to be done for fun.
Remember Jim Fixx, he was the guy who started the whole running craze back in the 70"s. He dropped dead of heart attack at 52 while…anyone?…anyone? RUNNING. She is determined to die skinny and she wants the whole world to mourn the passing of her skinny butt. I wish her well, I really do, but i don’t think I have anything to worry about.
You see, shes going about it in typical female fashion. The other day she was very proud of the fact that she got up early, got dressed and only then realized it was drizzling outside. Hmmm…that wont do, have to wait for a drier day to start. On Thursday it was dry, she had her running shoes, but forgot her running clothes. Oh well tomorrow is another day. On Saturday, still dry, had her running clothes, but forgot her sneakers….besides, who starts an exercise program on a weekend. Besides, on Monday she hooking up with her girlfriend, the one who hates to get up early, to go running. I’m sure this will provide the motivation to get this program off the ground, although she did mention she has not been able to find her sports bra. Another delay? Another obstacle on her road to a skinny butt? My my, you readers are getting cynical.
Me, I’ll ride the exercise bike a few times a week, when the weather starts to warm up a bit. Switch to light beer, cool it on the junk food and lay off the carbs for a bit. I’ll never be skinny, but I bet you I live longer then Jim Fixx did.
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