Tag Behavior

Springing Forward

Michael Leave a comment

We’re going away this weekend.  We’d love to be going to a South Pacific island, inhabited or not, but we’re only going about 200 miles from where we are and that’s covered in snow right now.

We’ve been looking forward to this weekend since early December.  Maybe earlier.  Before you get ahead of us, we’ve not been planning our little weekend gateway some 200 miles from here since early December.  But we have been looking forward to this weekend since then.  Why?  Daylight Saving Time begins.  This Sunday at 2:00 am, as if by magic, it will become 3:00am.  That means where it will be dark at 6:30 this evening will be light at 6:30 Sunday evening.  No longer will we have to go to work and come home in the dark.  Maybe
one or the other but not both. So what if it only lasts until November 3.  We can’t wait.

People respond positively to light.  We live better with light, we live longer with light, we’re happier with light.  There are studies to prove all that.  The most convincing study is us.  We’re sick of it turning dark before we’ve even pulled dinner out of the oven.  Heck, there are some days that we’re sick of it turning dark before we’ve even pulled the car out of the garage at work.  We need light.  We crave light.  We love light.

Maybe that’s a little melodramatic but you get the idea.  We like light.  Apparently so did Benjamin Franklin who first proposed the idea although it was some hundred and twenty years later before it was accepted and began to take hold across the world.  It was never accepted without some controversy.  Controversial or not, we do better with more light in the evening than in the morning.  Eventually the morning will catch up anyway.

If people don’t universally accept Daylight Saving Time, we understand.  It was well into the 1890’s before there was even any sort of standard time in the United Sates and that was invoked by the railroads that insisted on keeping to a schedule.  Before that, whatever time was on the church steeple or the front of the bank or on some other prominent clock around town was whatever time it was around town.  Eventually people got used to the idea of there being some sort of time standard.  Eventually they’ll come around to our way of thinking that more light in the evening is a good thing.

But there is just one problem.  We’re going away this weekend.  Because we’ll be setting our clocks ahead an hour on Sunday morning we’re going to lose an hour of our mini-vacation.  We’ve had some pretty rough weeks at work lately and can really use the time off.  Do you think we can convince the hotel to push check out time forward an hour as well?  We can use all the hours off that we can get.

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

An Oscar Winning Performance

Michael Leave a comment

The Academy missed an award last night.  That was the best performance by an individual or individuals who are supposed to be care givers but clearly don’t care.  The nominees were:

Your doctor who said you really needed to lose about 10 pounds between appointments and on your way out asked you if you’ve been to the new seafood house off the interstate.  But he lost his edge when you returned 6 months later and measured out only an 8 pound loss.  He had the chance to chastise you for the un-lost pounds, instead he said was that you did well and you’ll get those last two pounds in another month or two.

The second nomination was a group effort that went to the local nursing home administration in total for their performance before the local television news reporter when refusing to answer questions on air about the apparent loss of 3 residents who wandered away from the facility and hadn’t been seen for 2 days, the alarm being raised only after a family member of one of the missing elders reported the situation to the police.  In what looked like a lock for this award the group lost their opportunity to take home the gold when it was discovered that the administrator had already disciplined, fired, and reported to the state licensing boards the entire nursing staff that was on duty the day the three just walked through a door that was supposed to be locked but was left open so staff memebers could sneak outside for a smoke break.  They further fell from consideration when after they found the trio they not only welcomed them back without trying to blame the oldsters but then gave them a month’s stay for free.

The third nominee was a dark horse, your very own auto mechanic who said on three different occasions that he couldn’t find the same noise you heard every time you turned left on a gravel road.  Just when everyone was certain that he was going to charge you an arm and a leg for each visit and double dip by charging the warranty company as well, he found the problem, made a call to some mechanic friends of his, fixed your problem for parts only, then reported the issue to the manufacturer who is now recalling all 5 million models for the same safety repair.  In a surprise move, the National Transportation Safety Board awarded your mechanic the Silver Torque Wrench for unrelented test driving.

And the winner is…your dentist.  This supposed integral cog of your health care team takes the first five minutes of each of your semi-annual visits to harangue you for not flossing, not flossing enough, not flossing with the right kind of floss, or not flossing correctly, while scraping at your defenseless teeth with a metal probe the size of Rhode Island, refusing to let you inhale for periods of up to 3 minutes, and then telling you on your way out that he no longer takes your insurance, payment is expected immediately, don’t forget to make your next appointment, and please, have a nice day.

Congratulations!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

I Would Do Anything – Not!

Michael 1 Comment

She of We’s youngest went skiing last weekend.  Even before he called in the injury report we decided we don’t want to go flying down a mountain on skinny pieces of fiberglass with nothing between us and the ground but Under Armour, down filled puffy ski jackets, and 17 inches of snow.  As we thought more of it, we definitely don’t want to go skiing towed behind a boat at great speeds with nothing between us and drowning but flimsy swimwear.  And thus was born the Hole in the Bucket List.  As in, if we put this on a list and it fell through a hole in that bucket before we got around to kicking it, we wouldn’t miss it at all.

It’s a simple premise.  Think of what you haven’t done, don’t really want to do, and could live your entire life without ever doing it.  There are lots of things you’d never want to do.  Periodontal surgery is one that She of We would like to get through life without ever having experienced.  That might be a bit difficult to put on the Hole in the Bucket List because it might not be completely up to her.  Circumstances may say someday she’ll have to.  However, going on safari is another of her unwanteds that clearly makes the Hole in the Bucket List.  It’s something that though many would love to do before they shuffle off this mortal rock, it’s something she could care less for.  Others are running a marathon, running with the bulls, and having any parts of the body other than the ears that already are pierced.

He of We’s Hole in the Bucket List centers on unsupported flight.  His list includes parasailing, cliff diving, and bungee jumping.  Rappelling, rock climbing, and parachuting would also make the list but people in the military made him do those already.  Although he lived through them they aren’t likely to ever make a return for him.

Now, we too can be adventurous.  Regular readers know that we have as much fun, quite often more, than the next guy.  And if you think riding around in a miniature roadster on an interstate highway at the speed limit with the top down (sometimes in the rain) doesn’t catch our collective breaths, you’re very mistaken.  It is that there are limits to what we feel we need to fulfill our lives.  Alligator wrangling is outside those limits.

What’s on your list?  Add a comment, pop your least favorite, indeed least thought of pastime on it, and we’ll see just where we won’t be going.  No task is too trivial to be Hole in the Bucket List worthy.  Something you’ve never done, aren’t likely to be doing, and could care less if you ever do even though others might consider it a point to take before they are taken away.

Now let’s see, we also have no bull riding, or tornado chasing, or visiting pyramids outside of Las Vegas. Really.  No.   

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

Old & Fat Trumps Drunk & Stupid

Michael Leave a comment

Let’s just say it was a long week in the North East.  Freezing temps, icy rain and periods of snow certainly didn’t help.  By the end of the week, we were ready to visit one of our favorite watering holes and we weren’t looking for water.  She of We wanted wings, He of We wanted bourbon.  A snowy rush hour had everyone ready for a warm happy hour. This was the place we go to make that hour happy.  Here we have seen regulars and irregulars, old owners and new owners, children of owners and now grandchildren of owners.  We’ve been around a whiler.

The bar was crowded so we sat at one of those bar top tables on stools that you figure out quickly why they are called that.  One half of one of our favorite couples came over and joined us. His She was out of town on business so it was a party of three.  As the place started to fill up, we found ourselves surrounded by the youth of America. Twenty-somethings who needed cheap beer to guzzle and women to annoy. That’s when the trouble started. 

Our friend headed home and we decided to stay and catch the band. You know how we love live music.  We quickly figured out that we have gained a super power when it comes to twenty-somethings. Invisibility. You see, we were in a crowd and nobody paid any attention to us.  Nobody even noticed us.  And noticeability is one of our best attributes. It was while we were in our cloak of invisibility that one particularly inebriated youth, perhaps on his maiden voyage to Drunkville, perhaps a regular visitor, decided he was going to help himself to She of We’s wing basket.

Please understand that usually She of We is very generous but having her wings grabbed without permission is a big no-no.  We’ve all visited Drunkville a time or two so we’re no strangers to bad, drunken behavior. He of We protested on her behalf and that’s when it turned ugly. Drunk Boy and his buddy decided that insulting us would somehow make us feel bad. They thought by using words like old and fat that we would be impressed by them. (A note before we continue.  You know all these anti-bullying programs going on in schools?  Well, once they hand out the diplomas and these fools are on their own, add an adult beverage to an adult in training and it goes right out the window.  We like to call it Beer Backbone or just plain ignorance. We know your parents taught you better.) 

Anyway, She of We decided that enough was enough. We’re old, remember. We’ve been around, remember.  She politely informed the drunken buffoons that it was time for their leave.  Yeah right, they said and not too politely, nor too intelligently.  That was went she calmly moved from her stool, parted the sea of newbies like Moses parting the Red Sea, and aimed herself right at the owner.  Without blinking an eye, she informed him that he needed to bid these guests adieu.  He followed her back to our table, tapped the lads on the shoulder and let them know, just as calmly, that it was time to go. The look of shock on their stupid, young, drunken faces was priceless. No pomp, no circumstance, and no drama. Just “you’re outta here.” 

Both of We hope that our twentysomething children never act like that but we know they will. We only hope that some nice, old, fat couple will be able to set them straight.  And when called for, send them to the door.  And to the optometrist the next day.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Hooked on Fonics

Michael Leave a comment

We were sitting at a bar nibbling on appetizers and reading the closed captioning on the television above it.  We’re not certain how many hearing challenged individuals use closed captions but it is a boon to the bar industry.  Anyway, we were watching the printout and wondering if they use real people with court reporter skills or computer voice recognition software.  Certainly if it is software the mistakes are understandable since English so rarely looks like it sounds.  But then again, it seems that lately it so rarely sounds like it sounds also.

It wasn’t too much before we were sitting at that particular bar on that particular day that we were sitting on He of We’s sofa watching the season’s long overdue first hockey game (we won, yippee!) and the post game show that followed.  It was during that particular post game show after that particular game on that particular day that we decided we will never ever watch that particular sports anchor again.  He couldn’t even get past the intro without stumbling over the words that marched across the teleprompter.  Remember, this was after a win.  The intro could have been, “The long awaited first game brings home a win.  Details after these messages.”  We could have come up with that!

He wasn’t one of the weekend fillers who might have been a little nervous over the extended exposure that post game anchor duty would bring to him or her.  No, here was the channel’s number one sports guy.  So we gave him the benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps he hadn’t gotten his contact lenses in the correct eyes.  Perhaps the teleprompter went on the blink and translated everything into Latin.  So we waited until after these messages to hear the recap of the game we just spent three hours watching.  Three “ahs,” four “umms,” one complete stoppage in the middle of a sentence, and a feeling he was seeing the video clips for the first time were enough for us to change the channel, never to go back when he is in front of the camera. 

The only task this man had to do to perform his job, one for which he is quite handsomely recompensed, was read.  He didn’t have to write the copy, he even didn’t have to understand the copy.  He only had to read it.  And he couldn’t pull that off.  Was he blinded by new spotlights?  Were his contacts really not in correctly?  Was he as drunk as the post game interviewees appeared to be?  Was he completely clueless about hockey?  We’ll never know.  And now we don’t even care.  Although we do often wonder why the post any kind of game interviewees all seem to be drunk as lords.  But that’s a post for another day.

This whole event reminded She of We of a telephone solicitor who called her and then couldn’t get her name right.  She of We has a very simple name.  It has only six letters in the perfect ratio of vowels to consonants.  It is a classic English-speaking American name.  Yet not only did the solicitor not pronounce it correctly, when She of We brought this to the solicitor’s attention, she became arrogant and demanded to know why she was being disrespected when she was just trying to do her job.

There aren’t that many jobs where all you have to do to execute them successfully is to read out loud.  You’d think if you got one of them, you’d take a little time to, umm, practice.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

Gun Wrongs

Michael Leave a comment

Today we’re sharing with you a memo to NRA President David Keene.  He is a national figure who travels worldwide hunting and shooting, meets with government leaders, is on television and in the news quite often, and does it all without a salary.  He even dresses well.  And he did it all by misrepresenting one of America’s most cherished symbols of citizenship – the Bill of Rights.

As we have posted previously, those famous first ten amendments to the United States Constitution were drafted because of ongoing debate that in remembering British violations of civil rights there might still be too much power given to the new government without adequately addressing the rights of the individual citizen.  And thus in September of 1789, the First Congress of the United States proposed 12 amendments to the Constitution to address those concerns.  Two proposed amendments were not ratified but the remaining ten, the first ten, are our Bill of Rights.

With rights come responsibilities.  It’s such a shame that so many given these precious rights fail to make that connection.  They don’t even take the responsibility to read what right they are assuming.  Unlike the wordy First Amendment which weighed in at a whopping 45 words, the Second Amendment, the one David Keene, his followers and most likely even his opponents, apparently have yet to read, come in at a trim 27 words (11 of them at three letters or less).

“A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

Any English teacher worth his or her salt can tell you that if you remove the dependent clauses the intention of the sentence is maintained.  Let’s look at this sentence.  There are two dependent clauses.  One is “being necessary to the security of a free State.”  You really don’t need this part of the sentence at all.  All it is there for is to clarify why we need a Militia.  The next dependent clause is “the right of the people to keep and bear Arms” is only there to tell us how that Militia might be armed since the government then hadn’t yet come up with the novel concept of spending a couple trillion dollars more than it has to buy things like rifles.  They were willing to let the people who would be drafted into the Militia bring their own rifles.  Sort of like if you were to enlist into the military today you’d bring your own Hummer or submarine. 

So we are left with, “A well regulated Militia shall not be infringed.”  And darned if it isn’t.  We have a great little Army in spite of what so many generals are being caught doing, a pretty good Navy in spite of what so many admirals had been caught doing, a high flying Air Force, well trained Marines, and a full Coast Guard.  All armed forces that make up our well regulated Militia. 

Maybe Mr. Keene doesn’t understand the word Militia.  It’s not something we use very much today unless the Second Amendment is being quoted.  That would be, “an army of soldiers who are civilians but take military training and can serve full-time during emergencies.”  We probably are more used to hearing it called the Reserves or National Guard.  They get their guns issued to them just like the full time military.

Now we understand Amendment Number Two says nothing about sport and hunting.  The framers of the Bill of Rights where understandably more interested in preserving the new country, not in either creating or limiting the first indoor shooting range.  Then hunting wasn’t sport, it was shopping.  And it was efficient.  One pellet, one shot, one rabbit, dinner.  The 18t century hunter hardly wanted to pump more than one shot into dinner.  They were all for getting more iron in their diet but that’s what the vegetables were for.So now that we have cleared all that up, here is our memo.

 

To:         David Keene, President, NRA
From:     The Real Reality Show Blog people
Subj:      On the “right” to own guns that shoot 600 bullets a minute, launching them about 30,000 yards or the equivalent of 30 football fields, driving each over 2 feet through a solid wood target and/or human being, from magazines that hold 30 bullets at a time.

Are you nuts?

 

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Welcome to 2013. Now Go Away

Michael Leave a comment

Just because we don’t make resolutions until Spring is upon us (See Resolving to Keep it Real, Dec. 31, 2012) doesn’t mean we can’t be urged into encouraging others to change their behavior post haste.  We’ve gotten to experience some horrible behavior that could fill an entire year in only the first week.  And that behavior must stop.

We encountered the one that put us over the edge while we were coming out of the store and walking to our car, some 150 feet from the entrance.  As we approached it, the anything but a gentleman sitting in the car parked next to ours, started beeping his horn.  And then again.  Longer.  And then we saw why.  His certainly long-suffering wife was behind us trudging through the cold and the slush with their packages.  Apparently he felt it more prudent that he stay in the warm car while she goes into the store and buys his wares.  He also felt it more prudent that he sit in the warm car rather than picking her up at the entrance.  He knew she was done with their shopping.  He was honking the horn at her.  There was the extent of his chivalry.  He honked the horn so she didn’t have to wander throughout the lot looking for him.  Then to top things off, he let that car continue to sit in the parking space.  The one that had a snow bank just outside the passenger door.  When She of We said a bit too out loud, “He won’t even back out for her so she doesn’t have to climb through the snow,” the long-suffering wife said, “It’s ok. I’m used to it.”  She shouldn’t have to ever become used to such rude behavior.  So for 2013 he should resolve to figure out how to get along without her because eventually she’ll realize that also.

Other behavior we’d like to see not continued in 2013 is the media fascination with having to title all the news.  No longer are they happy reporting it.  Now they have to make up catch phrases to go along with it.  So please, take your fiscal cliff and go jump off of it.  Otherwise let’s at least have a little fun with it.  Since we’ve either avoided it or fallen off of it depending on what analyst is babbling, it should no longer be part of the evening news’ scripts.  But just in case it should sneak back into common parlance we propose the Fiscal Cliff Drinking Game.  Every time you hear that phrase you must drink a shot then call your congressman. 

Speaking of, and to, Congress, we’d like to see you go away.  You’re not doing anybody any good.  Make you’re next point of business for this session abandonment.  If you don’t have the decency to put yourself out of work, have the decency not to lie to the American people about the work you’re doing.  The “heroic” first vote to avoid the “fiscal cliff” saved the American worker about 20 cents for every $1,000 he or she makes in salary in what was supposed to be the temporary income tax increase.  It did not address the $2 per $1,000 increase in social security and other federal taxes and fees that will be withheld per month in 2013.  That means about $50 less per paycheck if your one of the average Americans getting paid every other week and if all those paychecks up add to $50,000 by the end of the year.

Finally for the fine men, women, and undecided in Washington please do not use 2013 to tell us how many jobs you’ve created.  Unless you also own a company that employs legal American workers you can’t create any.  Leave creating jobs to the business that actually hire, and pay, employees.  Intern and housekeeper positions don’t count.

Something else we’d like to see go away are all those special parking spaces around stores and restaurants.  We love our elder friends and neighbors.  We’ve often said that anybody over 80 can do whatever they feel like.  By then, they’ve earned it.  (See Entitlement Program, March 29, 2012.)  We’d like to see some of those parking spaces reserved for “Mothers to be and mothers of young children,” and for those picking up dinner to go, and even for those with Handicapped placards, turned into spaces for our Older Friends and Neighbors.  The eighty-somethings who are still driving do it well, and they aren’t the ones cajoling their doctors into signing HP applications for their high blood pressure.  Why should they have to walk 300 feet from the lot to the lobby?   Let’s face it, if you’re just running in for dinner, you can afford to run from a few yards away, or bring one of the kids to run inside while you circle the block.  So you’re a mother of young children.  Being parents of former young children from the days when there were no such preferred spots we can tell you our best shopping trips were those with the kids left at home.  Leave them at home.

Now that we are well into the 21st century, a time of unprecedented public protection against ourselves, we want to see the sale of sleds that cannot be steered or stopped stopped.  You can’t by an extra-large, sugary soft drink in New York City but you can put four 7-year-olds on a plastic sleeve, push them down a hill, and wish them luck knowing at the bottom is a 4 lane roadway separated from the top by a dozen 45 year old oak trees.  You can’t buy a lighter that takes at least three steps to ignite to start your grill for the safety of a child who may not understand that it isn’t a candy stick but you can buy an oversized Frisbee that sets the same child spinning uncontrollably on its downhill voyage over the same tree lined hillside.  We love winter sports.  Sledding, skiing, and skating make January and February bearable.  But let’s do it safely.  Nobody would ever put children on bicycles without brakes or a wheel that steers in April.  Let’s say goodbye to the winter version and stop making children headlines on the evening news.

Do we seem a little cranky today?  We’re sorry.  Usually we are quite upbeat and make the most of what we have.   Sometimes you have to take away to have better.  These are some things we like to see taken away.  Do you have others?  Would you like to see Black Friday not start on Thursday?  Is it time to make the baggage, premium seating, and boarding priority fees go away even if it does mean airfares go up?  Can we stop with gas prices that end in tenths of a cent per gallon?  Let us know.  We can be cranky together.  And then, that can go away too.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

Resolving to Keep It Real

Michael 2 Comments

Last year the Monday adjacent to New Year’s Day was actually January 2.  We called it the day resolutions die and posed that if we made our annual resolutions more toward a climatic re-awakening, say the beginning of spring, we’d be more likely to keep them for more than 24 hours.  So last year we made our resolution to make our resolutions come spring.  (See Be It Resolved, Jan. 2, 2012.)  How did we do?

Let’s pick two.  When we finally got around to making those resolutions She of We felt she was watching too much television and to combat that would read more.  Well she’s reading more but still feels she watches too much television.  He of We clearly needed more exercise and by the time spring rolled around had a positive plan.  That was to walk the local high school football field every morning before work. Well he walked some for about a month but that was still better than just 24 hours.  (See Be It Further Resolved, March 22, 2012.)  The real question is, was delaying resolution making successful in making rational, keepable resolutions?  Really, not much.

So here we are, back to another winter Monday and this time it’s New Year’s Eve, the day resolutions are made.  Will we?  We have some time to think about.  We might.  We still know January is a terrible time to start a new year.  But we also know we need to still exercise more no matter if we’re at the beginning, middle, or end of the year.  We know we need to still keep our minds nimble no matter if it’s hot, cold, or comfortable outside.  And we need to spend less, save more, and eat better.  Do we need resolutions for those?  Really, not much.

We like the idea of not making any serious goals while it’s only 20 degrees outside.  The mind is challenged enough at the holidays and New Year’s Day is still best suited for continuing the stress of the holiday period.  That hasn’t changed from last year.  But we think we can come up with a few rational, keepable resolutions. 

We resolve to keep having fun.  We resolve to work on the hard stuff later.  We resolve to keep you posted on how we’re doing with both.

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?

 

It’s Not the End of the World

Michael Leave a comment

If you lived to see Christmas then you know the world did not come to an end on December 20.  Or even December 21.  Probably there are just as many now a week later who are saying they never did believe in that stuff as there were a week ago who were convinced that this was the month to skip the mortgage payment.  As much as we would have loved to skip a payment or two, we were pretty much certain that the time to say we’ll never see another day wasn’t going to be determined by when the Mayans ran out of rock to carve their time in stone.

But it did get us to thinking.  Were there things this year that we’ll never see again.  We’ll not see another repeating date like we did on 12/12/12.  The next one will be 01/01/01 and January of 2101 is pretty far off.  But we could still be around for 2/2/22 or even 3/3/33.  Purists will say that those are not true repeating dates but since we’re talking life or death here, 2/2/22 is pretty close.

We saw lots of celebrities go in 2012.  Dick Clark, Andy Williams, Andy Griffith.  Whitney Houston, Donna Summer.  Etta James. Dave Brubeck.  Big names.  And many other big names.  And there could be a voice we’ll never hear again or a presence on the stage we’ll never see again.  But others will come.  Others will make us laugh and sing and snap our fingers and hum along.

There will never be another Twinkie or another Pontiac GTO, two brands that disappeared in 2012.  But somebody will eventually buy the Twinkie name and start baking vanilla sponge cakes with creamy centers and somebody will tell you that the last GTO wasn’t the same as the mid-60’s muscle car that made those three letters the monogram every teenage boy wanted in his garage anyway.

Some stuff we’ve missed but we know will be back.  Hockey hasn’t made a permanent exit even though some of the people whose livelihoods have been imperiled may feel it has.  No, not the players or the owners.  Especially not the league office or the players’ union.  We mean the ticket takers, ushers, vendors, and parking attendants.  Those who rely on 41 home games – plus playoffs – for a good chunk of their annual income.

And some stuff we really hope will stay away.  Do we have to hear one more time about “the biggest sale of the season!” Does every story have to be “Breaking news!”  Does every game have to have the “Play of the century!” in it?  And for good, bad, or otherwise, once January comes can we please retire “Fiscal Cliff” or at the very least make the Washington geniuses jump off of it?

All in all we have to say that 2012 wasn’t a banner year for things going away.  We should all get together and say, “Come on 2013, let’s see what you got but don’t expect us to just roll over and play dead.”  After all, it’s not the end of the world.   

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

 

We’re real, and we’re spectacular!

Michael Leave a comment

It’s back in the news.  Reality shows are being found unreal.  We entered that fray with our first post.  We didn’t then and don’t now like the reality they show us knowing that their reality is everybody else’s novelty.  The surprise shouldn’t be that someone suspected these were in fact scripted shows.  The surprise should be that a producer found six Amish youths who just happened to leave their communities and ended up in the same hotels in NYC all at the same time.  Or that three very different people including a goat farmer from the same NYC knew how Houdini relieved himself of a strait jacket.  Oh that they thnk so little of us that they believe that we believe these are really real.  Real?  Umm, we don’t think so.

We, however, are very real.  We are THE Real Reality Show.  What you get with us is what we are.   Yes there are times even our children cringe at that statement but that’s us.  We went back and looked at some of the things we’ve written just to be sure.  Yep.  That’s us.  And there’s even more.

We were reminded how real we are while watching television one evening last week.  Regular readers will have noticed that we come to a lot of conclusions while watching TV or while eating out.  Well, we watched a commercial portraying a couple putting together their hostess gift in the car outside the house, then donning reindeer ears, marching up the sidewalk, and then joining the party.  Together we looked at each other and said, “that’s us!”  We certain we’ve done that.  It’s just that it’s so like us we don’t even know we’re doing it.

And there are others.  Nobody but us would take advantage of the laws of physics and drive down an interstate highway in the pouring rain in a convertible with the top down absolutely certain we’d not get wet.  Not because of the laws of physics as much as “just because.”

Nobody but us could be driving down yet another highway while listening to a football game on the radio, hear a touchdown, and do a perfectly (yet still quite extemporaneously) choreographed end zone dance complete with foot stomps and hand claps while He of We’s daughter sits in the back seat wondering why she just doesn’t live with her cell phone permanently set to record video .

Nobody but us could spend two hours in a 20 year old game room playing 40 year old arcade games at one of the area’s finest ski resorts in the wee small hours of the morning feeling every bit as worldly as Richy Rich in his own playroom.  And every bit as lively as a 10 year old millionaire.

Nobody but us would invite a few friends to the house for cocktails and canapes and hire a singer musician to play for us because live is always better than recorded.  And get him 3 new gigs from others who’ll be wanting to do the same!

So as you read our tales twice a week, every week, be secure in the knowledge that this is one reality show that is really real.  No scripts.  No gimmicks.  No pay day.  So we take a little bad with all the good.

That’s what we think.  Really.  How ’bout you?