SPELT

Good (enter part of day at time you're reading this) readers,

I've been back at this blogging for a while now and it's occurred to me that I have yet to give what it is you really want. So, since I can't give you each Keira Knightley, she is mine after all, it would be rude to share, I'll provide you with the return of a classic instead.

Top 5 Things That Bother Me Today

#5 - T9 - Generally speaking, I find 'smart' phones silly and annoying. However, when it comes to text messaging, my phone's lack a a Qwerty keyboard leaves me reliant on T9, a program which purpotedly deduces what word it is I meant when I hit the numbers on my keypad. My problem is that T9 is is, to put it delicately F***ing stupid. The idea, as far as I can gather is for it to make work combinations from the numbers and put the most popular word choice on the screen. I don't know if my phone is from Texas or not but somehow, to it, 227 seems more likely to be 'BBQ' than 'car' 273 more likely to be 'apd,' which isnt even a WORD, than 'are.' 63 is apparently 'of' when clearly my phone should know it is the most important word I know 'me.' So I have a message for my phone, "3825 yourself" and no, I don't mean "duck."

#4 - The Restaurant at the Holocaust Museum in downtown Manhattan - OK I get it, people come to the museum,they spend the day there contemplating how awful man can be, and despite the horrors they are exposed to they can't help being hungry, so you serve food, fine, I can understand that, my question is how do you do takeout and delivery!? How do you even answer the phone? "Holocaust museum, can I take your order?"

#3 - Power Cords - How is it that we don't have a universal power cord yet? I think I have about thirty-five power cords and adapters stashed throughout my home. I don't know what they power or adapt, but I'm afraid to throw them out nonetheless, on the off chance I'll discover what it is they go with. This, despite the fact I probably have more plugs than outlets by now. It's sad how much power they have over me, mocking me with their uselessness, their laziness, their ability to sit there unmolested, safe in the knowledge that I will never be able to rid myself of them. Thinking about it, they have my dream job. By the way if anyone does invent a universal power cord, you owe me half!

#2 - Synchronized commercials - For those of you amateur TV watchers out there, pay attention, you'll learn something. You know how when you're watching TV you have to have an alternate channel? You have the show you're watching and when it goes to commercial you have your alternate to keep you entertained. It's a beautiful system, I've been using it for years. I've even worn the writing of the 'last channel' button on my remote. Everything was going along swimmingly, then some 3825-head at the network decides that his show loses too many viewers during commercials and he decides to synchronize his show, with the show your watching, and so the rest follow like evangelicals to Mike Huckabee, until you get to a point where, when your show goes to commercial, so does every other station.

#1 - Multiple spellings - Insure, ensure; Enquire, inquire; Theatre, theater - What the 3825? How did this happen? Did someone just say, "ah what the hell 'I' and 'E' are both vowels let em use whichever one they want. " Or, "they have all the right letters, is order really that important?" Yes! Yes it is, and don't even get me started on the difference between emigrant and immigrant!

I DON'T KNOW WHAT FRUMPY IS BUT ONOMOTOPOETICALLY, SOUNDS CORRECT

Welcome to 2008 readers. I hope this finds you you happy, healthy and enacting my aforementioned resolutions for the new year. Failing that, I hope you at least feel guilty. Anway rather than spend time thinking of segue or a new post idea I'm just going to continue a list I started a while back, 'English Aphorisms that Don't Make Any Sense.' For the original list click here: http://youknowwhatbothersme.blogspot.com/2006/03/secret-lives-of-orthapedists.html

'English Aphorisms that Don't Make Any Sense' Continued

Wait just a cotton pickin minute - Exactly what unit of time is 'a cotton pickin minute?' Is it shorter than a regular minute? Longer? It seems like it would be longer you know, picking cotton doesn't seem like an expedient activity. Then again, the use of 'just' implies a minimal request, so maybe it's shorter. More to the point, why do you want me to wait a cotton pickin minute at all? Do you have to go pick cotton before we get to whatever it is we're getting to? Don't we have machines for that now? As an aside, I'm surprise Al Sharpton hasn't spoken out against it's continued use, though I suppose he'll get to it in a cotton pickin minute.

The whole nine yards - The whole nine yards? I don't know which part of this expression bothers me more. The fact that nine yards isn't a unit of measure of anything (except for nine yards), or the fact that someone felt it necessary to add the word 'whole.' Maybe somebody started saying "that's the nine yards right there" and someone said "Is that good?" "Was I aiming for ten yards? 100?" and so in trying to save the completely arbitrary choice of number he made it "the whole nine yards" so people would at least know it was a good thing.

Rome wasn't built in day - I know what this expression means. I know it espouses patience. I will even concede that Rome was not, in fact, built in a single day. What I don't understand, however, is, who the hell thought Rome was built in a day? When is this expression useful? Is there some foreman out there whipping constuction workers screaming; "Come on build faster, afterall, if they could build Rome in a day..." Seriously, if you were waiting for someone to let's say finish putting together a model airplane before going to a movie and you asked if they were done yet, and they responded, "Rome wasnt built in a day, you know," wouldn't you say "No sh*t Sherlock (now that's an idiom I can get behind), but you can put a model airplane together in under three hours!"

It's not rocket science - Things that are more difficult than rocket science, finding the cures for: AIDS, paralysis, blindness, male pattern baldness, erectile dysfucntion; making a car that can park itself; explaining how Pauley Shore is a millionaire; getting an American to talk to you when you call customer service. Of all the difficult things in the world to choose from, we've settled on rocket science as our paradogmatic example? I can go into Toys R' Us and buy a fully functioning rocket for ages 4 and up for $11.95, don't think I'll find a cure for lupus there though.

Love means never having to say your sorry - What a load of crap! Think about it, do you know of anyone apologizes more than married men? There are cold hard hermit criminal child rapist murders out there who are completely and totally unloved, they will probably go their entire lives without ever apologizing, but if you have a girlfriend you'll spend 45% of your day telling yourself you're not going to apologize and 37% of it apologizing (The other 18 percent is spent in the bathroom and or watching/reading about sports).

OH NO HE DIDN'T!

Every New Year's we (and by we I mean people other than me) make promises of and to ourselves, lists of things we will and won't do, and, generally speaking, they last about as long my interest in watching a crystal ball fall slowly. Just a thought but don't you think it'd be more interesting if they actually DROPPED the ball, you know for real? I feel like crystal and glass become inherently more interesting when you know breakage is in their near future. Anyway, these resolutions are for the most part pointless, as, if we really wanted to do, or not do them, and had the will power to implement them, we'd have done so already. One exception to this rule, however, is the the resolution to change things we didn't know we wanted to change. I know it sounds complicated, but I will demonstrate:

Top Ten New Year's Resolutions, You Didn't Know You Needed to Make

10) Stop asking for other people's opinions when you'll be heartbroken if they tell the truth. If you need to ask, I mean really need to hear someone else say it to believe it, then you either have some sort of mental disease which is sad (unless you're a girl and you have low self-esteem which makes you desperate to please men, that's the opposite of sad) or you know the truth but are hoping that your friends will lie to you, and create an alternate reality for you to delude yourself in. We are all tired of lying to you (at least in that generous, for your own good kind of way).

9) Stop lying to protect people's feelings. Repeat after me; no you're not funny, that dress makes you look like an eggplant, no you don't deserve it, of course I can believe you got dumped, you look like an eggplant for God's sake! With just a bit more honesty I think we can set the record straight for so many of the deluded and allow them to focus on what they're really good at, like...

8) End the 'Plus One' - You know those friends you have, the ones you genuinely like, but everytime you invite them somewhere, they bring along that other dude, that guy no one can stand who single-handedly makes the whole enterprise a groan? They need to be stopped. They need to be made aware that while they may be awesome, their awesomeness is not great enough to encompass their douchebag friend. Now I caution you, before you get overzealous and start bashing 'awesome friend' for his 'Plus One' failings, realize it may not be entirely his fault, as, in the past, he may have asked of his awesome friends "Hey you guys, do you think 'other dude' is a douchebag?" and because it wasn't the new year and because you had yet to institute resolution #9 you said "Other dude? a douche? No, where'd you get that idea? Did someone say something, cuz I didn't." See how it snowballs?

7) Stop making obvious suggestions. When I complain to you that there's nothing to do, or ask of you, "you have any ideas what we could do today?" don't say, "we could go to a movie." I KNOW we could go to a movie (yes I know about bowling too), if I wanted to go to a movie, I'd say "hey, let's go to a movie. " No, my lament, "there's nothing to do," implies that there's nothing interesting to do or, if I was feeling ecceliastical, there's nothing new under the sun. Movies are not new, they are not original, they are the equivalent of suggesting your friend get his wife flowers and chocolates for their anniversary. Also, anyone wanna go to a movie tonight? Call me.

6) Stop repeating lines from Borat - I liiiike, is not funny. That's all I have to say on this paticular issue. Okaaaay?

5) Stop saying you "Root for New York." Pick you team and stick with it. Root for your guys to win, and glory in the failures of their counterparts. Sports are about favorites, you can only have one favorite, ask your wife/girlfriend/boyrfriend/husband/partner (not that I condone that sort of thing), they'll explain it to you, or, just tell her/him "but baby, you're my most favorite," and see what happens.

4) Stop wearing your bluetooth ear piece all freaking day. Seriously, they're like $12.99 at Wal-Mart they aren't cool. Also walking around talking to yourself without holding a phone to your ear is very confusing for people like me, who are trying to figure out whether you're a crazy bum and why it is I won't give you any change.

3) Stop saying 'I'll let you go now' at the end of a phone call. You're not letting me go, you're hanging up on me, you're the one going, not me. This is the wussiest way to end a conversation ever. It's the "it's not you it's me" of phone calls. Man up and say, "I'm bored, I wanna go now."

Authors' Note: Please don't hang up on me

2) My personal resolution is to have a quality penultimate resolution on next year's list, in the meantime, here's this:
Engage your inner child. Sneak up behind someone at work and flick their ear. Buy a video game console or find a friend who can be convinced his is distracting from his work. Drop a glass on the floor at midnight, you'll see purposely breaking glass is riveting.

1) Lose weight (mostly directed at women) - What? It's a good one. Also if you're inclined, and a woman, maybe you could start finding women attractive, but I think the losing weight thing is a good start.

That's all for now, follow these easy guidlines and maybe we can all have a happier year.

Hostel v. Hostile

I know I may have implied I'd continued my expose on the abuses of the American employee, but I fear there is an epidemic in our backyard, an outbreak that threatens our very way of life. I speak, of course, of Tourists. My problems with tourists are legion, but for the sake of brevity and carpal tunnel I'll narrow it down to five.

1) Not everything is a landmark - Perhaps no technological innovation has contributed to the annoyance of New Yorkers as has the digital camera. For as long as cameras required film tourists would wander the city Minolta's in hand, waiting for the perfect picture to present itself, conserving film like Joseph hoarded wheat in the 'Seven Years of Plenty' all so that when they came upon NY's real sights, they'd have enough film left. Then came the digital camera, and gone were the incentives to conserve, to regulate, to not take pictures of a freaking Borders Bookstore chain store that they have in every mall in America! I now walk the streets like a downhill racer slaloming my way around stationary posers and photographers, spinning my way around the go and stoppers who are so overcome with awe at the sight of a building over 5 stories they feel the need to come to a sudden, complete and immediate stop in middle of the sidewalk. A small side note: I would like to note that the digital camera has also been a key contributer in college girls taking up "amateur photography" so you know, it's not all bad.

2) New York is not a theme park - I understand tourists have seen NY in TV and movies and actually being here is a sort of surreal experience, like finding yourself on the set of a sitcom, but the cars are real, the people are real and if you try and open a 6 foot wide map in the street again I will hurt you. If you get on the wrong subway, you have to pay to get on the right one. If you ask me for directions you have to realize I may send you to Harlem for kicks and giggles

3) I don't care where you're from - Why? Oh why? Oh why, do these people feel the urge to share the story of their voyage from Sheboygan to New York City? You've been looking forward to this all year? Your having a great time? The Empire State building is tall, you dont say? Do you by any chance need directions?

4) Fanny Packs - How do these still exist!? I mean who the hell makes these? Are people from Japan and Iowa having them custom made? I've seen more flattering lumps on bell tower residents and people with thyroid disorders.

5) How is everyone from middle America blond? This is less a complaint than it is an actual question, but I can't help but think that within this question, at the nexus of Japanese and Iowan tourism lies the source of the fascination Japanese men have with American blonde's.

Unretired

Hello again readers,

I know it's been a while since last we conversed, but after giving it some thought I've decided that re-starting my blog is a good way to rationalize my slowing progress on my novel and avoid the judgmental eyes of my exercise bike. So, without further ado, like a phoenix from its ashes, like Roger Clemens from retirement, like herpes from wherever herpes goes when it's asymptomatic, I, your favorite misanthrope, return to you. (Yes, I realize I just compared myself to an STD, I'm rusty, give me a break).

I report to you today from the front lines of employment and I am here to tell you that all is not right in the world. Accordingly, I am providing you with the first installment in what may be a multi-part (depending on whether I think of any more) exposé on the abuses of the American workforce.

Top 5 Things I've Learned About Working Since My Last Post

5) Napping at work is frowned upon - Sadly the glass wall of my office contributed to this lesson being learned rather quickly.

4) I miss naps - You know those cold rainy days where the sun never shines and it seems like the day started at twilight? You know how all you wanna do on days like that is get into bed and spend the day watching TV, reading my blog and sleeping? Turns out that isn't enough of a reason to take a nap on the break room couch. Also, "I was just just looking for some change I thought I may have dropped between the cushions," apparently not a believable cover for laying face down on said couch.

3) Snow is not my friend - We had it good snow and me. For twenty-one years of schooling snow had my back. A foot here, a foot there, and I was spending the day with the 'Gilmore Girls' (dude I don't care, the mom is hot, deal with it). But now, like Brutus in the Senate, like Brain Macnamee in the Mitchel report, like Matt Damon in 'The Departed' (in that scene where he offs Nicholson), snow turned on me. No more is it my ally in apathy, my partner in passivity, my teammate in torpor. No. Snow is my enemy; an obstacle to be overcome. She teases me, forcing newscasters to talk of school closings, constantly reminding me of the pleasures I once enjoyed, but never again will. Snow, you suck!

2) There's no such thing as done - Work and homework, not the same. With homework, the sooner you finish, the sooner you're done. At work, the sooner you finish, the sooner you have
more work. It is a cruel, oppressive Sisyphean, cycle that drains the joy out of finishing aproject. It's like that depressed unemployed friend who sucks the humor out of the room and makes you contemplate what method of suicide is best. Like being Britney Spears' mom.

1) Lying is good - Are you done yet? No. When will you be done? Next week. Can you handle any more work? No. As if centuries of men getting laid weren't enough to teach us this lesson lying is good. So please; deceive, dissemble, distort, equivocate, falsify, fib. For God's sake, LIE! Lying is good, it's healthy, it's American.

OK that took way longer than I planned, you ingrates better enjoy this.

If I Ran The World

First Chapter

CHAPTER I
A Priest a Rabbi and a Dog Walk Into A Bar…
Thinking about it now, the smell was the worst part. It seeped up out of the ground like a noxious ghost, a last line of defense for the long since defenseless. I’d prepared myself before going there, steeled myself to see and do things that I never would have considered, not long ago. But as the pile of dirt next to me grew taller, as I stabbed my shovel deeper and deeper into the soggy, worm filled earth, the smell kept getting worse. It hung over me in the air like a mist, relentlessly attacking my nostrils, an unceasing reminder of the sins I was committing.
I kept digging.
Being afraid of death, insects and manual labor, I was rather surprised to find myself alone in a cemetery at three a.m., shovel in hand. I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, especially not now, but I really wasn’t a bad guy. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to do it. I just thought I had to. So there I was in Beth Olom Jewish Cemetery, unearthing the decomposing body of Benny Goldstein, a forgotten comic who’d been popular on the Catskills hotel circuit during the fifties and sixties.
I’d hoped that he’d see the humor in the situation, if there was any to be found; hoped that when it came time for me to move into the neighborhood he’d have forgiven me somehow. My parents had bought themselves a husband and wife plot in Beth Olom Jewish Cemetery on their fortieth wedding anniversary, a touching, if not slightly creepy gesture. For my twenty-fifth birthday last year (“Because it never hurts to be prepared”) my mother had gone ahead and bought the plot next to hers’ and dads’. She gave it to me (a certificate of ownership, not the actual earth) along with a card that read, “Even though you’ve moved away, you’ll always end up right next to your mother.”
But at that moment, with the smell of wet earth and rotted flesh wafting up from the wound in the green expanse, nothing, not that card, not the fact that my grandfather was buried forty feet away, not even the fact like I would one day be interred here, was as unsettling as the exposed corpse of Mr. Goldstein. His wrinkled, age worn face was long gone, the combined effort of time and maggots, but his empty eyes kept staring up at me. I could hear his open mouth, screaming silent words of reproach and pleading. I looked away, ignored the rebuke and pleas caroming inside my head, grabbed the can of spray paint, shook it hard and fast, and finished my work. I walked out of the cemetery ten minutes later, dirty, exhausted, traumatized, and yet, sadly, somehow relieved.
Benny Goldstein wasn’t the last of my transgressions, he wasn’t even the worst. He was just the first. Some people might say that was the day I became a full fledged criminal. If you’re the type of guy who fancies himself a comic, you’d probably say it was the day I started law school. You’d both be wrong.[1] The truth was, it all started six days before that night in the cemetery with Mr. Goldstein and his yawning grave. It started the day I went for my forty-third interview.
[1] You’d also be the only one to think you were a comedian

UPDATE

My recent efforts at humor have been directed towards my new project, a book. If there is interest, I will post the first few pages on the blog site. Comment and let me know.