What are Words For? When No One Listens Anymore

I love fast food joints. When I was employed many was the time I’d pop in and order an instant meal quickly and make it home in time for the 8:00 pm primetime tv shows. However I have noticed one drawback to utilizing the seemingly painless, efficient drive-thru window, the person taking the order. Now I know not to expect too much from technology. If there is one thing I learned from Rod Serling and Stanley Kubrick it’s that machines will fail and probably kill you. Now it’s downright silly to assume that the box you order through will pull out a switchblade and lunge at you like one of the Sharks from “Westside Story,” but if one particular burger spot does not hire someone who actually listens I am liable to raise some HAL.

Listening is not a difficult chore. In fact it doesn’t require you to speak, or move. You simply have to stop and open your ears to the person doing the talking. And yet, such an easy task is often mishandled for whatever reason. I don’t know why each time I venture at a particular fast food place my order is always wrong. Not to name names, but when I order a Famous Star with cheese, I do not want a chicken club with bacon. It’s not even close! I would understand it if I received an offshoot of the Famous Star name. And instead of a salad I get Criss Cut fries. Salad and fries are two distinct entities like breasts and cardboard. How is it possible to miss by such a large margin? I have this urge to park my car and walk in and speak to the person manning the drive-thru to ask if they even care enough to make a valiant attempt. Granted these places do get busy and the drive-thru folks are multi-tasking with speaking to an interior and exterior customer at the same time but for chrissakes manage one thing at a time. “Excuse me, sir, one moment.” That doesn’t seem too difficult to say.

I love that the last visit to this place the guy at the window asked if I wanted a combo with my fish sandwich and salad order. “No.” I said. I ride up to pay and then receive my order when he blurts out “what kind of drink do you want?” I said “Um, I didn’t order a drink.” “I thought you said you wanted the combo.” “No,” I said. “I did not want a combo. Where did I say combo? Not once did I use the word ‘combo.’ I said ‘sandwich,’ I said ‘salad’ and I specifically said ‘I do not want the combo.’” The guy looked at me dumbfounded. “So, you don’t want the combo?” “NO! No fucking combo!” I hate to curse but even Gandhi himself would have flung so many expletives at this guy it would have made a teamster blush. “I have your drink ready.” “Are you shitting me?” “Because I thought you said combo.” Right, the only combo I thought of was a combination of left jab and right upper cut to his chubby jaw. “FINE! Give me the goddamn combo.” So I took the combo and went straight home. When I settled to eat I looked into my bag and found that my sandwich had magically turned into a double-decker guacamole cheeseburger and my salad became Criss Cut fries. Why do I bother speaking?

Aahhhscar!

The Academy Awards are this Sunday night. I’m curious to see Hugh Jackman host it. Judging from previous telecasts, it’s either a snooze-fest or something akin to a room full of vacuum cleaners…a suckfest. Either way it’s going to be interesting to see who wins and goes home a failed, miserable loser. Here are my pix…

BEST MOVIE
“Milk.” After the Academy, to quote Gandhi after he met with the British government, “pussied out” on giving the Best Picture nod to “Brokeback Mountain” in favor of the less controversial “Crash,” I think the members will definitely feel the guilt and give it to "Milk." Besides, I heard it was a great movie.

BEST ACTOR
Cue all the comeback references because my pick will be MICKEY ROURKE for “The Wrestler.” Sean Penn, the other strong frontrunner, already has a statue and Rourke’s return makes for great television. Let’s face the show needs ratings.

BEST ACTRESS
KATE WINSLET. And it’s about time. Sure Meryl Streep is…well Meryl Streep. But Winslet has been nominated 873 times in her career and lost each time. If she doesn’t get it this year she should change her last name to “Kate Losesit.” Besides, she’s been naked in almost every movie.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
HEATH LEDGER. No one has been talked about more, and it would be a major letdown for the viewers to see the statue go to someone else. Besides, it would be a nice tribute for his shortened body of work.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
It depends. If we’re talking about actually acting, my pick will be VIOLA DAVIS. I didn’t see the movie, but she’s highly respected. However if we’re talking about the academy, the statue will go to Penelope Cruz because the supporting category ALWAYS goes to comedies, especially Woody Allen films.

All other categories.

“Slumdog Millionaire” for writing and “Wall-E” for best animated movie.

An Anthropology of Anthologies

As a Beatle fan I always look forward to the latest “anthology” series which unearths unreleased and alternate versions of songs by the Fab Four. Here are list of songs which will appear in “Paul McCartney presents The Beatles. A Second Anthology from The Beatles Library by The Beatles.”

“Octopus’ Garden.” Originally entitled “Octopus’ 12-Acres of Gorgeous Green Fields,” the Ringo Starr tune was stuck in limbo until George Harrison suggested shortening the title to include the word “garden.” Ringo returned 5 months later with the title “The Eight-Tentacled Sea Creature’s Garden,” which explained George briefly quitting the band.

“Private Conversations.” Get rare discussions behind the scenes during the recording of “Beatles For Sale” that includes Paul asking for a match, John eating potato chips and George calling to order pizza.

“I’m a Sole Man.” Not to be confused with the great Sam & Dave tune, this never-before heard outtake from “Rubber Soul” praises the work of shoe salesmen around the world. Later the title and melody were re-worked into “Wild Honey Pie.”

“You’re A Loser” Some say this was Paul’s angry reply to John’s “I’m A Loser.”

“Help Your Damn Self.” This was George’s reply to "Help."

“Yoko In The Shed With Diapers” A cut off The White Album, based on a dream John had after seeing Yoko in the shed loading boxes of diapers on the shelves.

“This Apple is rotten to the Corp.” Paul’s take on the friction in the band after the creation of the ill-fated company. Includes the lyrics “there are blokes that like to point the finger, but don’t forget we discovered James Taylor and Badfinger.”

The Birds and the Bees? That's easy...

My child is rapidly approaching the age when she asks a lot of questions about…well, everything. Given the determined desire to speak now tells me that my wife and I are in for a flood of inquiries. I hope that we are adequately prepped to provide insightful responses that will ease her curiosity. However I am stumped when it comes to answering the following questions…

Q: “Why are boys so icky?”

A: “Well, sweetheart, if you actually get to know someone you will find that they are nice people. That includes boys.”


Q: “Why do Republican Governors say ‘no’ to the stimulus bill but readily accept the money when the bill passes?”

A: “Ooh, that’s a toughie, pumpkin. I guess some folks just don’t take the time to actually read and understand something before they open their mouths. If they truly want to help the people they represent I would think they would go along with the Bill or suggest something that is not found in the Bill. This is why reading is so important.”

Q: “Why didn’t Major League Baseball officials, namely the Commissioner, not ban steroids and other performance enhancement substances back in the 1990’s when it was becoming a real problem?”

A: “See, there is thing called greed. Now the Bible and various Warner Bros. cartoons teach us that greed is bad. However in a competitive free enterprise system greed is necessary. Bottom line is, honeysuckle, more home-runs means more tushies in the ballpark seats, even at the risk of the player’s health. May Lyle Alzado rest in peace.”

Q: “Do I have to eat vegetables?”

A: “Yes.”

Q: “Why are movie studios constantly churning out ‘re-imagined’ ideas taken from old movies?”

A: “Because the screenwriters are lazy, and studio executives who greenlight projects are too busy snorting blow from an escort’s fake boobies to understand that they know nothing of the buying consumer wants.”

Q: “Dad, why are you so bitter?”

A: “Okay. No more questions. Time for bed.”

Baby's Got HunchBack

The Academy Awards are coming up in a few weeks and once again the elite aristocratic Academy has failed to recognize a certain segment of the population. This time it is not any minority group, although witnessing the long dry spell of Oscar wins by African-American actors makes me believe that it’ll be another 40 to 50 years before a Latino-American gets at the very least a nomination. Hell, we’re lucky if we get a nice role. That would be OUR award. Something other than maid, drug dealer, gardener or immigrant would be nice. Playing latin lovers is adequate, but it adds pressure to our love lives in real life. May God rest Ricardo Montalban's soul but ain't no way I'm smoother with the ladies than he was.

And no this is not about little actors who fail to get work unless it involves Santa Claus or some fairy tale movie or TV show. The self-involved, happy-to-slap-their-own-backs Academy have forsaken the hunchback.

Since the creation of the cinema Hunchbacks have received poor treatment. Beginning with Lon Chaney’s depiction of the tragic yet heroic Quasimodo in “The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” Hollywood has unapologetically created a pathetic, helpless characterization without really exploring the soul of a hunchback. Let’s start with the title. Sure it was the name of the Victor Hugo book. Fine. But couldn’t the publishers dream of another name? Like “The Heroic Tale of Quasimodo,” or “The Bell Ringing Superstar?” I mean including the word “hunchback” reflects the level of insensitivity slightly above the NFL. Added to that the silent movie version depicts Quasimodo as this wretched deformed patsy for the bad guy. It was repeated again in 1939 with Charles Laughton. Did the filmmakers of this version make any changes to the character? Yes they did. Quasimodo spoke. Wowwee, one giant leap for mankind I guess. With the ability to speak, was it possible that Quasimodo got great lines to utter? Nope, the only memorable thing that came out of Laughton’s Quasimodo was “sanctuary! Sanctuary!” What the hell? I guess Dorothy Parker wasn't around the studio that day.

Then came the “hunchback” servant Igor from the horror movie “Frankenstein.” Come on! The poor souls go from living in the bell tower of a church to the laboratory of a nut. How was that an improvement? I could picture some coked-out exec at Universal saying “who cares? They’ve got hunchbacks. They don’t know nothing. Now blow me, bitch.” Although Marty Feldman’s version from “Young Frankenstein” as a sassy character gave hunchbacks a little encouragement that they may one day rise above the prejudice and play a lawyer, doctor or President of a fruit growers union. But sadly this day would never come. Ever. Their dreams were shattered by that misanthrope William Shakespeare. “Richard III” is one of his most popular plays. And it is constantly adapted for the big screen. Now the hunchback is a scheming, murderous, power-hungry son-of-a-bitch whose story is told somewhere daily on the stage and can be seen on dvd or video with works by Laurence Olivier.
Won’t the Film Industry understand the harm they are doing to this world? Boycott the Oscars this year. Besides, “Dark Knight” wasn’t nominated for Best Picture.

Tom Waits for No Dream

Last night I dreamt that Tom Waits read poetry to my college chemistry class. I don’t recall what the selections were, or who wrote them. But I remember he received a less than favorable response. As he was walking out I kept thinking “that’s Tom Waits.” He stopped by my desk and asked if I could help him carry the large stack of books he had. I helped carry a couple of heavy books out to the parking lot. When we reached his car I see that it is a skeletal jalopy, much like I had always pictured him owning, and a couple physics students were jumpstarting his battery. There were no doors on the car, or a hood. I loaded the books into his trunk. He said thanks and off he went.

(Why am I reading poetry to Chemistry students?)

I feel the need for seeds

Like many folks, I have a pet. A parakeet named Cao Boi (pronounced “cowboy”) to be exact. How he got that name is a different topic. Anyway, Cao Boi was out of food. I went to a certain store to purchase a bag of parakeet seeds like I have done for the last 2 years. Which store did I go to you may ask? I can’t say. But if you said their colors were red and white, you’d hit the “bull’s eye.” Wink wink.
Anyway I chose this store because I had a gift card. I love gift cards. I’ve been out of work since January and fishing for the elusive job is proving difficult since, as one employment service told me, prospects are “dead in the water.” So it feels nice when friends, who have jobs, present a gift card for my birthday. It’s a polite way of handing me cash. It’s more practical than sympathetic.
So I venture to this particular store. I stroll over to the pets section. I see one entire aisle dedicated to dogs. The shelves on one side hold different types of dog food. One type with meat, one vegetarian, one with tofu bits, another mixed with desserts like doggie parfait or tiramisu. The other side is dedicated to canine accessories like dog dishes, leashes, beds, hats, tanning lamps, shaving kits and puppy cell phones. I got the hint that a lot of people have dogs as pets. I’m pretty observant.
Over to the next section I go. I see items for cats which take up about half of one shelf. Next in the animal food chain are the birds. Finally I reach the area of my interest. I find bags of seeds alright, but for cockatiels, finches, parrots…but none for parakeets strangely. My gut sensed something foul in the air. Or should I say no specific fowl food? Yikes, my rage had turned my witty puns into nonsensical mutters. In fact I was cursing in a made up language at the bare section reserved for parakeets. I know for a fact that parakeets are a common feathery pet, if not the most common. Christ Almighty my mom alone has about 500 of them in one small cage in her garage. How can they not have any parakeet seeds? I inspect the area further. As an American I expect things handed to me and when they’re not, I raise hell. Let’s see, there are bags for wild birds. Wait, wild birds? Why can’t wild birds locate their own food? You certainly wouldn’t buy a wolf a rabbit from the grocery store. It is the job of the wild animal to track down and eat their dinner. Who created this animal welfare system? I go on to examine the other bags. Woodpecker seeds? Are you kidding me? Who the fuck keeps a woodpecker as a pet. They’re freakin’ noisy! They peck wood all day long. It’s like keeping a rooster in a small apartment. Upon further inspection I managed to locate a dusty bag of seeds for the Dodo Bird. I rationalized that perhaps this store stocked it in hopes the extinct bird makes a comeback. And still, nothing for my Cao Boi. It seems they care more for the dead than they do the living.
When I stumbled into rabbit and guinea pig pellets I knew my expedition resulted negatively. My outrage turned somber knowing that Cao Boi would go hungry, at least until I went to the nearest pet store, which I should have done in the first place. But I don’t have a gift card from them. Hint hint. (no food for you!)

There's a New Sheriff in Town

Barack Obama is our President. How he achieved this goal is the blueprint of how to run a successful campaign. But if future generations of curious kids ask me "what was the election like in 2008?" My reply will be with a straight face "Ever watched BLAZING SADDLES?"


The 1974 Western spoof paralleled the 2008 Presidential bid in so many ways. Firstly there was the ineffectual, incompetent Governor (Mel Brooks) who let his second in command make all the decisions. Sound familiar? Like the Vice-President, Hedy Lamarr (Harvey Korman) used his office for personal gain, like building a railroad through the doe-eyed town of Rockridge. Everything was kept hush hush. Even appointing an African-American sheriff. On the surface the decision was a landmark bit of PR for the governor, but below that surface was the real strategy, to drive out the outraged folks of Rockridge who would never accept a black sheriff. Just like Iraq.

All through the madness of this plan was the calm, quick-thinking Bart (Cleavon Little). A "dazzling urbanite in a rustic setting." That seemed to be an apt description of Mr. Obama when he travelled to the rural towns of Middle America. No offense to the small town folks, but Mister Obama represented the big city fast talkin' politician they resent. However, like Bart, Obama used a simple approach, good old-fashioned common sense. Bart used it to defeat the mighty Mongo (Alex Karras). A brute who when shot would only get mad. Knowing he was smaller and weaker, Bart tricked Mongo by, of all things, inventing the Candygram. One could argue Mr. Obama employed the same tactics to victorious results with his Mongo (John McCain AND Sarah Palin). Obama's strategy? Having a plan.

Eventually Sheriff Bart gained the respect of the angry bigots of Rockridge, got the bad guy and restored everything to its rightful place. Only time will tell if Mr. Obama will do the same in these tough times. Hopefully by the time he is through, he can ride off into the sunset restoring this country to its rightful place.

A DAY AT THE GYM

"MMM, CHOCOLATE"

I was half way to a mile when what my friends call "newbie pains" kicked in. See, I hadn't been to the gym in nearly 3 weeks thanks to the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. Beginning in July I had worked out consistently and I was able to run 2 miles without much effort. But then came the turkey, followed by the sweets, then the sodas, then menudo, lechon...the list went on and on.

I made the pilgrimmage back to the gym. It was a new year and with no major family-oriented holidays in sight, I set out to regain the "eye of the tiger" as it had been. I started slowly with lifting weights, then the elliptical. Okay, I'm a little tired, but not worn out. I was like Muhammed Ali in the later rounds. Exhausted but still dangerous.

I hit the treadmill like a man with a mission. 2 miles. I stretch the legs and begin with a fast walk eventually easing into a slow jog. I'm feeling pretty good as I reach .50 miles. My legs are strong, my breathing smooth. I speed up. I still feel excellent. Maybe my absence didn't make a diff...oh-oh. I feel a little discomfort in my right knee. It's aching. In the past, at the height of my running prowess, I fixated on one object in the gym and relaxed my whole body. The strategy worked and I was able to jog beyond my expectations.

Looking for that focal point I settled on the flat screen tv hoisted above me. The commercial ends and I see a familiar logo. The Food Network. The cooking show returns and a kind, sweet older lady adds a layer of chocolate frosting to a round, sumptuous cake. Shit. I look away the other screen. Fox News? Hell no. A soap opera on CBS. Without sound it does me no good. What the hell is this? A freaking cooking show in front a guy trying to get in shape and FORGET cakes, pies and lovely cookies!

I managed 1.6 miles. Not bad given the situation I was under. I headed for the exit when a young lady behind the counter added a quick "goodbye, thank you for coming." I turned noting the irony of my dilemma and approached.

"Did you know that one of the screens is showing THE FOOD NETWORK?" I said.

The brunette trainer in a tight knit shirt immediately looked alarmed.

"Yes sir, I am aware of that and we'll get that changed right away," she said.

"Oh, no worries. I just think it's funny."

The trainer frowned with helplessness and tilted her head to one side as if to say "what do you want me to do?"

I smiled, nodding and headed out the door. I thought apparently weight isn't the only thing you lose at the gym.