Mr. Mom

Here’s a recent quote from Chuck:

Diane “I’m exhausted from food shopping.”

Chuck “Hey, I’m tired too! I’ve been watching three kids, one of whom I didn’t even know was here.”

Chuck

By my standards that was a fine job. Responsibility and coverage for the kids in consideration for your significant other tops all responsibilities as we Moms and Dads grapple with the ongoing struggle of raising and dealing with kids, their ideals, their hopes and dreams, their tantrums, refusing to eat what’s cooked for dinner, bumming money of ya, bad grades, insolent attitudes and generally being a money siphon akin to laying every dollar you own on the floor with the understanding that a vacuum cleaner will soon come along and clean you out.

Say, that reminds of a story of my own: (We had a one-year old boy at the time. Mother’s Day, circa 2001)

Wife (early morning):   “Well”?

Me: “Well what”?

Wife: “Where’s my Mother’s Day gift?”

Me (sensing trouble): “I didn’t get u one”

Wife: “WHY NOT!!???

Me:  “You’re not my mother”.

I paid a king’s ransom for that response friends and in some ways so discreet (other ways more overt) that I still haven’t any cognizance of them 20 years later.

Marriage/kids: Think hard my readers.

Think hard.

Jimmy

 

It’s All in the Delivery

I was scanning thru my 5 zillion TV channels recently when I noticed two things:

A) How fast the delivery of spoken lines was back in the twenties and thirties.  It was either sped up in editing or they really did speak their lines that quickly.  Here’s a reasonable approximation of when ya put lines on paper compared to the on-screen effect…

Joe: Thismugdoesntwannacooperate!Louie:He’sokJoe,just ask the boys.Darla:Don’thurt himJoe,hedoesntknowwhathe’stalkin’about.Joe:He’sstillamugIsay!Somebody’sgottatakecareofthisguysee?Andi’mjusttheguytodoit!Yeahthat’sright!I’lltakecareofhimrealgoodItellya!Idon’tcarewhatanydamesays!

Justtypingthatmuch, er sorry…Just typing that much sent my normally cognizant and cooperative spellcheck feature out of it’s mind. Nextly and thusly I’d like to point yer attention to art of naming movies and their enthusiastic promos.  Maybe I could be good at that. There’s been a long running trend where movie (or even TV shows) have been kept to five words or less so as to keep them quickly remembered as well as fitting onto posters hanging to your local theatre walls geared towards generating the interest and fascination of you, the viewing public.

Sooner or later (in our lifetime or not) Hollywood’s gonna run out of words about how to name and promote their latest shows and features.  Think I’m wrong?  This effect is already occurring with such improbable names as  “Bikini Bloodbath Car Wash”  (Hey!! I think I saw that one!!),  “Mars Needs Women”, “Santa and the Ice Cream Bunny”, “Ilsa: Nazi She-Wolf of the SS” (definitely saw that one) and “On Golden Pond”.

Then again maybe I’m jumping the gun here.  Let’s see what movie titles I can drum up with word anagrams using only the actual words in the aforementioned film names (allowing for pluralizing when necessary):

“Ice Cream Nazis on Mars!”

“Santa Needs Women!”

“The She-Wolf and the Bunny Bloodbath!”

“The SS Bikini Carwash Pond!”

Ok, Ok, this is a clearly stupid and futile exercise but are my movie names really any worse than the ones I was drawing from? Then again, maybe I didn’t see some great film monikers in there that other, more farsighted readers can provide. Please send ’em to me in the comments section if ya think u got a good one.

Jimmy

 

Holiday Road

Chuck was kind enough to impart a few thoughts from his most recent beachside excursion:

From Chuck:

Diane (attempting to ask me about the upcoming weather): “How long rain harder?”

Chuck: “What??? You sound like one of the Hekawis from F Troop”.

From Jimmy:

O”Rourke (to Wild Eagle): “U don’t have to ACTUALLY attack the fort, just send your brave Hekawii warriors tonight and PRETEND to attack so we can make Cpt. Parmenter look like a hero.”

Wild Eagle: “No good O’Rourke.  Brave Hekawii warriors afraid of dark.”

Jimmy

(Back to Chuck) Diane and the girls are all killing me at Scrabble yet they are all trying to make me feel better.

Erin: “Your score isn’t too bad.”

Me: “Are you kidding me?? A monkey could eat the bag of tiles and s**t them out all over the board and he would STILL have a better score than me.”

Chuck

Jimmy: Hey Chuck! You just disrespected rule #3.4 of this website which clearly stipulates (ahem)… “Any writer on this stupid, futile, insanely crazy idea of a blog shall refrain from monkey poop jokes to the extent humanly possible unless it’s really funny”.

(OK, that WAS really funny but if we catch any grief for the Hekawii gag it’s yer ass.)

Jimmy

(Why Chuck and Teresa put up w/me is anyone’s guess but check out MameMagazine.com for more cool stuff if ya haven’t already.  Thanks for hittin’ and readin’)

 

The Fintastic Voyage

I noticed on the news this morning that many viewers of The Discovery Channel’s Shark Week kickoff episode from last night featuring Michael Phelps versus a Great White shark in a water-born race feel cheated, if not outright robbed.  The blowback resulted in noteworthy outrage from many viewers insomuch as Phelps wasn’t actually in the water with the aforementioned and extremely dangerous predator. He raced a far more docile computer animated shark that seemed to piss off viewers hoping for a little more violence and bloodshed (hey, I’m not naming names here). Let me say this about that…

PT Barnum once said that there’s a sucker born every minute and I’m now kicking myself for not laying some dough on the shark given the moronic levels of the general public. Was Vegas giving odds on the outcome of this race?  If so, they would’ve known that a Great White is capable of speeds upwards of 30 miles per hour while Phelps’ at best, will clock in somewhere around 4 mph. This normally would’ve resulted in odds of 20 million to one in favor of Jaws (woulda been 30 million to one except that maybe some shyster decided to plant a wounded seal on the race course in order to put the fix in.) But then again it’s possible some folks assumed that this would be a land race, which largely favors Phelps even if he agreed to have a bucket full of glue draped over his head while being spun around ten times with the assurance that he won’t be pranked by being lead into the water with the supposedly land-saddled shark. (Now THERE’S a contest!)

I’m with the viewers in one respect though.  Given a race between two or more humans it’s reasonable to expect that there will be some ground rules to ensure fairness and clean competition.  Why not the same for sharks? I’m figuring that the head of the Olympic committee sat down with head shark to lay out a few ground rules…

Any competitor who chomps his adjoining competitor in half shall be deemed to have committed an infraction and will thus be penalized 3 seconds in their overall score. (The shark contingent probably protested this one).

Surfacing to grab seemingly helpless seagulls or any other seabird is not only frowned upon but will be severely punished with a 4 second violation. (The humans were vehemently against this clause.)

Disconcerting, unruly, undignified or intimidating comments at the start line will result in a 2 second penalty. Certainly a sensible rule, hopefully averting such man/shark commentary as:

Human: Hey Flipper! Why don’t you take your tuna-breathed, seal-eating ass down current? You stink you sunofabitch!

Shark (in response): Hey man! Why all the negative vibes? I was hoping we could get together afterward and hang for a while.  All you have to do is swim out over the breakers about dusk and me and my buds will light up a party in your honor!

Having established these sound and unimpeachable rules, let the race begin!

(Spoiler alert!!!)

(The shark wins)

Jimmy

 

 

 

 

Let’s Hit it Again

I recently started mourning, while celebrating, the loss of great Americana traditions via the show “American Pickers” whereby the pickers find old motorcycles, jugs, art and other interesting memorabilia from people’s yards and barns, etc., displaying our past and how we got to the point we are today thru these objects.

This got me to thinkin’ about what treasures of the past I’d like to see make a comeback…

The Dunce Cap-Never heard of it? The Dunce Cap was used in elementary school to inspire lesser students to greater intellectual heights via ritual humiliation by seating the offending youngster in a chair at either the front or rear corner of the classroom while wearing a white, cone-shaped paper hat on his/her noggin that had the word “DUNCE” prominently displayed on the front of it.  (Scarring kids for life wasn’t a big issue back then.)

The Hotfoot- Apparently this was a big hoot during World War II.  Here’s how it works: If you notice that a friend, comrade, etc. has fallen asleep barefoot in your presence then the only thing to do (apparently) was to stick a lit match between two of his toes and wait patiently while the flame makes it way to skin contact.  The resulting hilarity involves the subject waking and suddenly hopping around like some kind of nitwit while screaming like a banshee. Unfortunately, the targeted individual didn’t always quite see things in line with the intended humorous effect often resulting in a fistfight.

Working on Your Own Car- Yeah, yeah, people still do this but not like before. Dinging your finger on the fan, spitting out black fluid from an ill-advised posture during an oil change or being semi-electrocuted resulting in temporary loss of consciousness while dealing with vehicle issues was a rite of passage back in the day.  It’s a man thing. Having black, oily, severe looking, emergency room-level cuts made you more of a man provided it didn’t kill ya.  Nowadays you’ll be needing such ultra expensive, sophisticated equipment and such intensive training that the average backyard mechanic just can’t compete.

Music- Don’t get me wrong here.  I LOVE seeing my favorite bands on YouTube while equally digging some of the new bands (big fan of the Pretty Reckless) and I don’t know what heaven’s like but I think I’d like to scan the radio, dealing with static only to hear “Hey WHAY listeners! Here’s newest number from Buddy Holly!” While I was used to scouting around my transistor radio, hearing static in my dialing search and getting frustrated from time to time, I still miss hitting a gem.  Nope, Buddy Holly died before I was even born but his legacy ultimately made me want the experience all the more (and again).

Jimmy

To the Moon Alice!

I recently stumbled along a piece pointing out famous astronomer Stephen Hawking’s advice to establish a colony on the moon before it’s too late for good ol’ planet earth. (See this link http://giftedviz.com/2017/06/21/stephen-hawking-is-convinced-humanity-needs-to-leave-earth/).  Permanently occupying the moon and expanding humanity into space while momentous, is also of course tricky and thus comes w/some important questions:

Question 1: Who and how many of us earthlings will establish and occupy the moon biosphere?

Answer: While there’s more than a few people I’d like to send on a moonshot, it’s important to get this right so I’d like to leave it up to the consensus of the people who’ll actually be there. The moon compound will obviously need various types of scientists, engineers and laborers to keep things running smoothly, but who else do we send?  Perfect human specimens of health and beauty would seem the obvious choice just based on most of the Hollywood characters I’ve seen in the sci-fi genre but is it wise considering that those films often wind up in disaster?

Question 2: How will our moon friends be attired?

Answer: Taking advice from Gwyneth Paltrow surprisingly ain’t gonna cut it insomuch as her sticker idea is a load of “BS” according to NASA (see link: http://bgr.com/2017/06/23/goop-stickers-nasa-gwyneth-paltrow/) so were gonna have to go with Plan B. I applaud her effort anyway ‘cuz writing about women’s cosmetics has been a stunningly consistent source of laughs for me. Seriously, I think I could make a living writing about it.  This quote had me laughing out loud:

“NASA, which typically doesn’t even bother to address ridiculous pseudoscience like what Goop is trying to peddle, was looped in thanks to Goop’s claims that the “Body Vibes” stickers utilize “NASA space suit material” made of “conductive carbon” to perform their magical healing feats. Gizmodo went right to NASA to ask for clarification on this mythical material and got a rather blunt response.

Apparently, NASA astronauts “do not have any conductive carbon material lining the spacesuits,” according to a rep from NASA’s spacewalk office. Pressed further, and presented with this counter-claim, one of the people behind the Body Vibes stickers claimed that he “found a way to tap into the human body’s bio-frequency,” while hedging his claims by saying that all the research that proves he’s telling the truth is confidential.

A former NASA human research scientist responded to Goop’s claims by simply calling it “a load of BS,” which is really all you need to know about how close to reality any of the company’s claims actually are. Upon learning of the Gizmodo story, Goop pulled any mention of NASA from its website.”

Ouch. While my motto when writing a new piece can be described as “there’s no idea too stupid” this series of assertions has admittedly proved me wrong.  Now whadda we do? Seeing as I can’t do any worse than Goop in the moon attire category, I’ve thought of a few more ideas…

How ’bout futuristic spacesuits like in “The Forbidden Planet” that seem to protect ya from everything but bullets, death rays, alien monsters and whatever else our moon people might need defending from that quickly proves corny and useless.

Robots: We can consider athletically challenged robots like “Robot” in the 60’s series “Lost in Space” but does this mean we gotta put up w/insufferable dimwits like Dr. Smith? I prefer an R2-D2 character that can not only relay messages from beautiful far-flung princesses and wise old Jedi knights but zap any hapless evil enemies at will.

(Which raises the question: Why do the Imperial Stormtroopers even bother wearing armor when they’re susceptible to getting wasted anyway?  This is an important thought.)

Sorry, I’m losing my train of thought here (to the extent I ever had one) and will once again try to take this buffoonery seriously.

Food and Lodging: Efficiency is everything here so I recommend barrel after barrel of green gloop labeled with the word “FOOD” on ’em.  “Anybody up for more green gloop!”  shall be our motto which I’m sure our moon units will never tire of and’s gonna be great for morale.

As far as lodging goes and given near zero gravity conditions, it’ll be important to strap everyone to their space cots at bedtime lest they fart in such a way as to deliver thrust and thus send themselves thru the top of the biosphere. I’ll bet the engineers have thought of this one already, but hey, can’t be too safe man.

Leadership: Clearly this issue can’t be taken lightly given my wish to send Kim Jong Un up there only to watch it all backfire as he decides to invade earth once he gets death ray capabilities.  So who else? It’ll hafta be someone who’s gonna be calm, nurturing and crazy enough to agree to this. That’s a rare combination but fret not readers for I do have some candidates in mind.

Given her credentials, Yoko Ono would be the obvious choice here, but she (like myself) ain’t the proverbial spring chicken anymore.  Cindy Lauper and Morgan Freeman were additional guesses and while I love their qualifications there’s really no one who can do it like Samuel L. Jackson. If anyone of our moon units gets outta line or scared he can lay lines on ’em like from Pulp Fiction:

Jules: Now Yolanda, we’re not gonna do anything stupid, are we?

Yolanda: You don’t hurt him.

Jules: Nobody’s gonna hurt anybody. We’re gonna be like three little Fonzies here. And what’s Fonzie like? Come on Yolanda what’s Fonzie like?

Yolanda: Cool?

Jules: What?

Yolanda: He’s cool.

Jules: Correctamundo.

Having wrapped that up, there’s only one last issue left (actually, there’s a lot more but my fingers are getting pooped.)

Communications: Unless there’s an improvement in cell phone usage from our moon people, my daughter ain’t goin’ seeing as she won’t be able to use her mobile phone for less than sixteen hours a day.  As tragic as it apparently is, (to her anyway) there is nonetheless, a simple solution…

Let’s setup a Space Shuttle-type program whereby we shoot cute, fuzzy creatures such as puppies, kittens, wombats, etc. to our moon habitat (yes, I’m deliberately saying this to get responses) in space modules (hey, maybe they’ll get the hang of it after a while and guide the modules themselves) with notes tied to their collars. Upon their moon arrival, our spacefolk can review loveable footage of their 275,000 mile journey which they hopefully survived.

As always, I’m happy to help with these complicated questions and will (unless shouted down) will supply a part II.

Jimmy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lowdown on Highlighters

Had the following conversation with my 11 year-old daughter the other day as we were getting ready to head to the beach.
Erin “Daddy, do I need sun block in between my fingers?”
Me  “No, sweetie. We’re not going TO the sun.”

A Pre Dinner Observation Made To My Wife:

Explaining to Diane why I’m less than thrilled with my new yellow Cape May t shirt.
“I have two problems with it. One, I can’t squeeze my giant head through the head hole. And two, when I have it on, I look like a big fat highlighter.”

Chuck

Note from Jimmy:  “Diane” is Chuck’s wife and yes, if ya painted his head yellow he would seem to be an oversized highlighter.  Even tho I’ve told him to send stuff in (“SIZE 14 TIMES NEW ROMAN DAMMIT!)” ,  he defiantly insists on torturing me in the editing process.  HO, HO, not this time mi amigo!

In reality, I’m always glad to post his thoughts insomuch as he makes feel normal by comparison.

Jimmy