Tag Behavior

Three Little Words

Michael Leave a comment

We’ve been thinking about this for a while and have come to a conclusion.  There is only one instruction in the English language that people actually pay attention to.  It is not:

Speed Limit = (XX) MPH.  Speed limits are barely suggestions anymore.

Not dishwasher safe.  Everything is safe in the top rack.

Capacity = 20 People, particularly in an elevator, particularly at 9am

Cook at 350 degrees for 45 minutes which really means cook at 450 for 20.  We’re hungry!

No Turn on Red and other traffic suggestions that control movement at intersections. 

Allow to stand for 20 minutes.  Nothing good happens after the first 5 minutes.

Inflate to 23 PSI Front, 21 PSI Rear.  Tires, right?  Just blow them up till the pump stops.

Coupon Expires January 31, 2012.  If you tear it at just the right angle across the top…

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.  Really?

Tools required: Adjustable Wrench, Allen Wrench, Sultry Wrench.  What, no hammer?

Do Not Use After: xx/xx/xxxx.  Come on.  Yogurt is already milk gone bad.

Hand Wash.  Then why do they put a delicate setting on the washer?

Do not mix batteries.  Does anybody even know what this is supposed to mean?

Bulb max = 40 Watt.  For what?  Night blindness?

No, it’s none of these.  Yet there is a rule, a law, a regulation, an instruction that puts fear in Americans.  The one instruction the American public actually follows is:

Dry Clean Only.

It’s on the only clothes that people actually sort on laundry day.  It’s the only instruction that parents pass on to their children when they move out into the world on their own.  In fact, we know people who have actually not purchased clothes because of this instruction.  Although we hesitate to admit it, She of We has actual personal experience that Dry Clean Only means Dry Clean Only.  (In fairness though, she does prefer to send out white blouses and shirts to a Dry Cleaner because they always come back so nice and crisp.)  

Yes, these are the most powerful three words in the English language.  Dry.  Clean.  Only. 

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

 

Hell’s Chopped Kitchen Star

Michael Leave a comment

“I learned how to cook at my grandmother’s house who took us in after Mom and Pop died in the car wreck when the telephone pole fell on the car that first smashed them, then electrocuted them.  Grandma went to the community college to learn English so she could raise me and my 14 sisters and one brother who wore dresses a lot but could make the fluffiest soufflé.  And if I win today’s competition I’m going to take the $300,000 prize and buy her the stove she’s always wanted assuming I can still find a 1965 Amana and let her teach my children all that she taught me.  Even the autistic ones.”

We’ve been watching a lot of cooking competition shows lately.  But not the cupcake people.  We hate the cupcake people.  What they do to cupcakes you shouldn’t be allowed to put on TV.  Anyway, we’ve been watching a lot of cooking competitions and swearing off as many as we watch.  Why?  Because the competitions are becoming less of a challenge among those who can cook as they are now a contest of who has the bigger sob story.

We’ve always liked the Food Network show Chopped.  The premise of real chefs being dealt real but unusual ingredients fascinates us.  Most of these people are real working chefs and know exactly what to do when given chicken feet, dragon fruit, clove candy, and 20 minutes to make a scrumptious appetizer.  But now it’s not good enough to see 4 chefs, then 3, then 2 turn the bizarre into the palatable.  Now we have to ask what will you do with the money if you win.  Who would have ever thought that cooks had so many physically challenged children?  Or how many have an elderly parent yearning to see the homeland one last time?  Or how many are supporting their nieces and nephews?  We know what we’d say if someone asked us how we would spend a prize.  It’s found money.  We’ll blow it all on us.

Gordon Ramsey has to be the king of shock cooking.  We’ve come to if not love, appreciate Hell’s Kitchen because he’s not going to hold anything back. If you’re not cooking, you’re not contributing.  Leave now.  The little snippet interviews with the contestants are the best part of that show.  It gives each contestant a little face time with the camera and by extension, the viewer.  We hear how this person is a dolt, that person can’t boil water.  Petty gripes and foul mouths.  But then after the service they go to their sleeping areas and talk to the pictures or their kids, and parents, and partners and how much they love them, and love (sniff) being here, and really (sniff, sniff) want this (boo hoo).

Another of our favorite cooking contests also has Gordon at the forefront.  Master Chef.  This competition among home cooks has us wondering if the professionals on Hell’s Kitchen shouldn’t stop by the studio next door and get some pointers on, well, on cooking.  These non-professionals are very good at their limited challenges and usually work without complaining.  But even here we have the boo-hoo crowd sneaking in and has us wondering how far a blind cook can go in a kitchen competition with real knives, hot stoves, and open flames.

Not long ago we were watching one of the previous winners of Food Network Star whose show came on right after another previous winner.  And at that we were stuck. Both of the former winners with real shows who have now been on for what seems like years and have books and CDs and probably hats and T-shirts were winners when food was the competition and they left making a good promo up to the PR department.  This year’s finalists seem (emphasis on seem) to know their difference between a whisk and a dutch oven.  Could it be that after all the tears a cooking competition might actually be decided on cooking?  It could happen.

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

 

The Agony of Defeatism

Michael Leave a comment

You know that we have never told you what to do or think or say.  Thinly veiled otherwise strongly worded suggested we have, but outright told, no.  We are now.  We are going to ask you to do just what we do and find all your Polo cosmetics and fragrances, dig out all your Lauren accessories, rummage through the closets and take out everything that has Ralph Lauren on the label, and burn them all.  If your local municipality prohibits open flames we will accept repeated slashes and then bury the remains.  And then don’t ever ever never buy any of his stuff again.  Ever.  Never.

Yes, we’re a little upset about the Chinese made U. S. Olympic Team uniforms.  There are so many other things that have hit the news wires this week, why of all things would we take such a drastic stand over clothes?  It’s the Olympics.  It is the ultimate in competition.  This is America.  We are nuts about competitions.  Put it together.  The ultimate in reality shows is about to take place and we’re sending our representatives there in somebody else’s clothes.

Nobody asked us but what we would have done was not even turned the design to a professional.  We would have taken advantage of those reality competition shows out there and let the “Project Runway” or similar contestants design the uniforms.  The Olympics are the grandest of all contests and should be represented by the best of the best.  We don’t pick our swimmers by holding open bids.  We don’t select our archers through a series of contract negotiations.  We don’t choose our sprinters based on who did good before.  Before they get to be competitors, they compete for the privilege.

If we had let the design of the uniforms to true competitors we’d probably have something uniquely identifiable.  Has anybody looked at these things?  There’s no mistaking them for anything other than Ralph Lauren designs.  He made sure of that by the size and placement of his logo exactly as it is on his U. S. Golf Open, U. S. Tennis Open, and Open Championship uniforms.  And you’d think somebody so American with so many U. S. credits would realize we haven’t worn berets in this country since Annie Hall premiered (and even she knew better than to wear one on screen).

Since we can’t go back and have the uniforms re-designed, let’s at least get them re-made.  Ralph Lauren has already said he will have the 2014 uniforms made in the USA.  That’s nice.  But we’re still letting the 2012 team go to London with zippers sewn in the shadow of the Great Wall.  Let’s face it, there is enough money in his various companies’ accounts and among several of the USOC members’ households that Lauren, et.al. could say, “We screwed up.  We’ll fix it and have the uniforms all re-made here and we’ll pay for it” and not notice the bill.  The amount spent on redoing the uniforms might be enough advertising for his companies that it would offset the bad publicity he has already received. 

Frankly, we don’t care why he doesn’t.  There’s 10 days to go before anybody has to see the Asian varieties and it can be done.  So just do it.

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

 

Summer Sunny Day Fun Days

Michael Leave a comment

Summer is here in the northern half of the United States.  For some of the country summer isn’t a huge thing.  Is there really much difference between April 1 and July 1 (other than fireworks sales) in Houston or Miami or Anaheim?  But north of the Mason Dixon line, even with the mild spring we’ve had, you really can’t pull out the shorts and sandals until the summer solstice shows up in the weatherman’s graphics. 

This year the first of day of summer harkened in a summertime heat wave like we hadn’t seen for quite some time.  As we write this on the 18th day of summer the temperature in our town has exceeded 90 degrees on 12 of those 18 days.  You’d think that would have altered many’s attempts at fireworks, picnics, vacations, swimming, and so many other outdoor activities that are much more pleasant at 78.  Well they have altered some but not so much that many are complaining.  Even us.  Although we took in the Fourth of July fireworks from a downtown river dock we decided to forgo our annual outdoor jazz festival.  But we’ve still managed to have our fun and not risk our health.

Apparently, many others are also.  The local MLB team is packing them in with sold out weekend games and close to sell outs during the midweek evenings.  Pools are filled to capacity.  Restaurants with outdoor seating are serving some brave ones outdoors in the glorious shade of roll out canopies. 

We have made the weekends our time to hop into the little car, put the top down, turn on the air conditioner to high, slather sun screen on our necks and let our man made 35 mile per hour wind cool us as we drive through the canopies of the tall trees that line our underused back roads.  A couple hours of oohs and ahhs for nature’s companions trying to beat the heat (we got to sit in our car and chat with a young deer not more than 20 feet away while she was resting in the shade), and a couple of oohs and ahhs for some of the biggest, most expensive, and gorgeously landscaped estates we can’t believe are in the same county as our modest middle class just-plain-houses (but even a rich man should put a shirt on if he plans on reading the evening paper on his recliner that is just inside the front window – and backlit to boot).

Now the best part of it all we reminded ourselves of this morning.  As we head into what the weather predictors are saying is going to be our first week entirely under 90 degrees since mid-June, we’ve heard of only 2 unfortunate heat related accidents and neither fatal. 

Quite often our posts here poke fun at the way people have taken so cavalierly to reality.  The reality is that sometimes we can be quite responsible. 

Quite remarkable.

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

 

Scared Skinny

Michael Leave a comment

Recently we had the opportunity to be in a Sears store.  Sears is one of the last places where you can buy just about anything.  After we had wandered past the lawn tractors, fountains, kitchen utensils, refrigerators, bedding, fine jewelry, cameras, vacuum cleaners (got a good deal in that department) linens, furniture, and cookware, we strolled by the exercise equipment.  We’re pretty certain we heard a voice from the acoustic tile say, “Be afraid.”

We aren’t completely unaware of exercise.  We run errands.  We climb the ladder to success.  We dive into dinner and we jump to conclusions.  But we hadn’t been introduced to these person trainers.

The first items we noticed were the stair climbers.  He of We had an immediate thought. He would need a step stool to climb onto one of these climbers.  She of We confirmed that with her thought, this one spoken.  “Do they have to be that large?”  Large they were.  The pad that we assumed one placed one’s foot would be sufficient to accept the Incredible Hulk’s foot, or perhaps King Kong.  Kong probably doesn’t need a piece of equipment to help with his climbing.

The treadmills loomed next.  He of We found his voice and recalled the simple rotating track and three position switch (Off, Slow, Fast) of the model his father used some fifteen or so years ago.  These machines had displays on them that looked like the main display in the NASA control room as portrayed in “Apollo 13.”  In output and in size.  The tread itself looked to be able to hold a small family, a couple vowed to exercise together, or a man and his large, well-trained dog.  Checking out the display a little closer we discovered that one could make the treadmill go uphill, downhill, fast, slow, moderate, level, uneven, or any combination, or a programmed course encompassing the entire variety.  Just like walking outside.  (Be afraid.)

We also saw weight machines, dumbbells, kettle bells, exercise balls, and those new dumbbells that have the weights inside them that shift back and forth when you shake them.  There were exercise bikes, all larger than either of our own bicycles and all with places to put water bottles which neither of our own has.  The stationary skiers were longer than your average cross county ski that they are supposed to mimic.  And in the corner of the display, a boxer’s heavy bag.  Probably laughing at us.

We suppose running laps around a football field, riding bikes along a trail, and doing aerobics in front of the television are just maintenance.  If you really want to be in shape you’ve got to get one of these.  Otherwise, where will you hang your laundry?

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

 

Baseball, Hotdogs, Apple Pie, and “Batter Up!”

Michael Leave a comment

It’s almost our birthday, that’s our country’s birthday, and we’re still trying to figure out what makes us Americans – the good things, the bad things, and the things no other country wants to admit to doing.

Last weekend we were in a restaurant for a late dinner when a family of Mom, Dad, and four children ages 8 months to 11 years old take the table next to us.  We said it was a late dinner.  For us, 9:00 qualifies as late and that’s what time we were seated.  These folks came about ten minutes after us.  What could these six people ranging in age from “not yet a year” to “should know better” be doing on a Saturday that they hadn’t yet had dinner at that hour?  What else?  Baseball. 

Baseball?  At 9:00.  At night.  Really?  Yep, the oldest child just finished up his weekly baseball game.  We recall when we and ours were of little league age that we had one game at 1:00 and one at 2:00.  It didn’t take long to play Little League baseball then.  Three outs often came on 3 pitches assuming somebody could manage to get the ball anywhere near first base where 3 other defenders had rushed in to back up the first baseman ready for him to miss the throw to first.  The longest play in Little League then was the high pop up when everybody, including the batter, turned to look at the umpire (often somebody from the American Legion league who played on the same field at 4:00) to tell them fair, foul, safe, or out.  And then to explain what to do next.

But today, in the spirit of every one’s a hero, games take hours to play.  There are no outs, you just keep getting up to bat until everybody has had a turn.  There are no runs, you just keep going around the bases to make room for whomever is up next.  There are no strikes, or balls, or foul balls, you just keep throwing until the little snot finally connects with the ball and remembers to run to first base instead of to the bathroom like last week.

This isn’t our first post about the insanity of trying to build a world with no losers.  (See “Your Turn to Keep Score,” Jan. 16, 2012 and “There Is No Crying,” April 26, 2012.)  Somewhere along the course of trying to take the pressure of winning off our children we’ve also taken the joy of winning from them.  We’re also taking the discipline they will need to be productive adults from them. 

When the authors of the Declaration of Independence wrote that “all men are created equal” and that we are endowed by our Creator with those famous unalienable rights of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness, they didn’t mean there will never be any losers.  If they did, they would have let King George take one more at-bat.

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

 

Baseball, Hotdogs, Apple Pie, and “It’s a Shame.”

Michael Leave a comment

We’ve been taking a post or two as we approach the Fourth of July holiday to see what’s out there that makes us uniquely Americans – including the bad things, while trying to find the good things about us.

In our last post we took our first look at how the country is doing and remarked on the bullying of the now famous bus monitor and the remarkable response people had to her plight.  Much of that remarkable response might have been American, but since that time we found out that the instigator of the good is a Canadian.  Thank you Mr. Norther American for showing us below the 49th parallel how it is to be good.

Unfortunately there are still many bad examples.  Sometimes, not only do we have a hard time admitting that the bad are the bad, we go the extra step to assume the bad is actually an example of good behavior, just gone wrong.  One morning this week the local television news had a piece about three teenagers that were killed two years ago right after attending “an alcohol fueled graduation party.”  The parents wanted to remember them so they created a memorial with plaques, benches, and pictures overlooking the site of the accident.  Had we not done a little research it would have been just three kids who died.  Other than that one phrase quoted above, the morning news story said nothing about the car’s occupants being drunk.  And being drunk isn’t something one should be memorializing.  It’s a shame.

But research it we did and that research uncovered a longer piece that was run during the evening newscast the day before.  In that version one of the mothers told those who attended the memorial to do whatever it takes to not drive after drinking.  It also mentioned that the alcohol was provided by a parent.  As we continued to dig we uncovered another article and video of the sentencing of the woman who bought a half-keg of beer for the graduation party from two years ago (one year of house arrest, 3 years on probation).  But we didn’t uncover scores of articles addressing the core problem.  There are people out there, sometimes children, who drink to impairment and then try to pilot a speeding vehicle.  We found no organized outrage at public drunkenness or at children drinking, no support of underage drinking laws, and no response from MADD, SADD, or the District Attorney.  Perhaps nobody wanted to hurt the survivors more than they were, and still are.  It’s a shame.

A day later the same television station ran a story about the arraignment of a man who during a drunken driving rampage injured 10 people in what police described as a “bumper bowl game.”  This young man hit at least six cars, one head on, before running into a guard rail that stopped his onslaught.  His blood alcohol was three times the legal limit. 

He probably missed the story from the day before and didn’t get a chance to do whatever it took to not drive after drinking.  What a shame.

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

 

Baseball, Hotdogs, Apple Pie, and “Aren’t they cute?”

Michael Leave a comment

Summer is a great time to be thinking about how the country is doing.  We’re getting close to the 240th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence and we should be checking up on how we’re doing keeping a country free and a government of, by, and for the people.  (For anybody checking, that anniversary isn’t coming up this July.  It’s still 4 years away but thinking stuff like this can take a while.)  Those few weeks between Flag Day and Independence Day are good days to look about at what’s good, what’s bad, and what’s uniquely American.

Last week we got to see the best and worst of Americans all wrapped up in one convenient incident.  Although it happened earlier, by mid-week it hit the national news.  Four middle schoolers, 11 and12 year olds, decided it was going to be not only a good day to taunt their bus monitor but to record and post it to the Internet for all the world to see.   So they hurled insult after insult, poked and pointed, swore at and about a 68 year old grandmother, former bus driver, and guardian of the good children on the bus.  It wasn’t the first time that they aimed their low sights at her, and it wasn’t the first time that she sat stoically taking it.  It was a horrible example of how miserably some American youth are raised and how much of their disgusting behavior is tolerated.

And then in an amazingly disgusting example of wretched behavior, one of the feeble four decided they should share their offensive conduct with the rest of the world and thus the recording was posted to the Web.   But instead of thousands of viewers sending them accolades for a bullying job well done, hundreds of thousands instead sent sympathy to the abused woman.  Tangible sympathy.  Five hundred thousand dollars worth of sympathy.  A half million ways to say we’re sorry for the incredibly stupid behavior of incredibly stupid children.

Perhaps it was the world’s way of providing one of those auto corrections that our planet does without our knowledge to keep us from hurling into space away from the safety of our solar orbit.  Maybe it’s the first step in the world’s recognition that not all children are cute and impulsive and they don’t mean anything by it.  Maybe somebody is finally realizing that if the parent’s aren’t going to handle their children, if the schools aren’t going to discipline the children, and if the police aren’t going to punish the children, that at least someone is going to see that the victims will be compensated for being a bully’s target.

Maybe the most disturbing part of the week’s news was that now that the children have been exposed and have even attempted too little too late apologies there are some who are upset that others are expressing their dismay at the miscreants’ behavior.  Again, in a remarkable worldly auto correction, the bullies have become the targets.  Even targets of death threats.  Don’t worry kids.  Those old people saying you should be expelled, fined, imprisoned, or maybe even executed are just so cute, but a little impulsive, and they don’t really mean it.  Maybe.

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