Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Ten Things

One time, on this very blog, we did a list in which each of the ten things we talked about started with the same letter as it's position on the list.  I vaguely remember that it was kind of fun to do, so let's do it again. Only this time we are going to connect them in a sort of reasonable way.

1.) Oleo - Oleo is what people who are much older than I call margarine.  It was the first synthetic butter, and it came clear and you had to like mix a little color packet into it.  That is a lot of work for fake butter.  Was butter really all that bad?  I mean, really?  So bad that you had to drive across state lines (if you lived in certain states) and mix colors in to have something to put on your toast?  I have to mix coloring into the grout I use on my bathroom tile.  And it probably tastes roughly the same as that original Oleo, too.

2.)  Toast - It is where you put your Oleo.  And it is fantastic.  There are not a lot of foods that are quite as
good as toast.  There is just something about it.  Plus, the appliance that makes it is a brave cartoon.  It is what you eat when you are sick usually, and it is one of the few common foods that has inspired its own song. (Yeah Toast!)  Take that, risotto.

3.) Teeth - It is what you use to eat your toast, unless you like blend it up or made a lot of dirty movies in college and can do things with your throat.  George Washington had very famous wooden false teeth, and since you probably can't prove me wrong without using Google, Bing, or Yahoo! I am going to make the claim that they were made from the wood of the even more famous cherry tree.  I just put that on the Internet so now it is true.  Take that, history. 

4.)  Flouride - You know they put that shit in your water?  It is like they can't trust you to brush your own #3 all night.  Just kidding.  Number 4 is France - as in the country that was partly behind the French and Indian War.  Did you know that George Washington served in the British Army in the French and Indian War?  Boom, there is your connection.  Anyway, France, courtesy of their hatred of the British, would go on to be a big ally of an early America.  And now we can't even keep our crinkle cut deep fried potatoes named after them.  My how soon we forget.

5.)  Franklin - Do you know who LOVED France?  Benjamin Franklin.  He was there all the time when he wasn't flying kites or printing shit.  And he loved the French ladies.  It is pretty impressive for a man who ran around in a wig and short pants to get as much action as he did over there, although in all fairness back then smart phones hadn't been invented and being good at puns was enough to get you an invitation upstairs.

6.) Stamps - Benjamin Franklin is on a lot of stamps.  That is something that you did not know.  Or maybe you did, I don't know, Company.  It should be no surprise that BF was on all sorts of postage because a.) he was the first Postmaster General and b.) he did all sorts of cool stuff.  And if random sports could get on stamps, the guy who figured out electricity and weather damn well should be.  Right? 

7.)  Saliva - Not the band.  Settle down.  The stuff that comes out of your mouth.  When I was a kid this is what you used to make your Benjamin Franklin stamps stick to the envelope.  Now it is done with a sticker and I am honestly a little bit disappointed.  I loved licking them things because licking things is cool but it is apparently socially unacceptable to just go around licking random things.  So I had to lick stamps.

8.)  Envelopes - This is the next thing that we aren't going to be able to lick anymore.  What the hell am I going to lick then?  Maybe I can bite something instead.

9.)  Nails.  As in fingernails.  I already do this, and I am really bad about it.  Once I run out of nails to bite I bite the end of my fingers.  If I were like Marilyn Manson I would have my lower ribs removed so that I could bite my toenails since I am not really all that flexible.  There is something about seeing the white part of my fingernails that I just can't stand.  And plus they taste like butter a little bit.  But it is not butter.  It's...

10.)  Oleo - OLEO!  That is right, we have come full circle. Just like Benjamin Franklin! BAM!  I am just kidding, I don't know if he ever got laid in France.  But if I were there at that time, that pun would have totally got me some.  But have you noticed that Oleo doesn't start with "T" and ten doesn't start with "O."  HA!  I got you good.  That is better than a pun.  Number 10 is Toes - where you have another set of nails.  Toes are attached to your feet, which you use to go get some margarine.  Or Oleo, as they call it.  Now we have come full circle.  Take that, France.

Friday, October 11, 2013

Dead Man Walking

      Zombies are hot right now.  Almost vampire-hot. TV loves them. They are in Sprint commercialsThey are on AMC.  They are probably on the CW too, because I am sure tweens are into them.  And I think that there are probably some zombie-like creatures on a beach in France.  But for as often as you might see the living dead on your television, I think that it would be safe to say that most of us don't believe that there are dead people walking among us.  Except that there are.  In Ohio for example.
     In 1986 Donald Miller, Jr. left his rented home in northwest Ohio and didn't come back.  He wasn't dead - he had disappeared south in the midst of a tough time in his life - and started over there.  But the Ohio authorities couldn't find him, and in 1994 his ex-wife Robin asked a judge to proclaim him legally dead.  Donny Boy owed thousands of dollars in child support to his ex, and she wanted his Social Security death benefits to go to their children.  Makes sense.  The problem though - as we said above - is that Donald Miller, Jr. wasn't dead.
     At this point I am confusicus.  What we have is a dead guy who isn't dead but everyone thinks he is.  I have not been able to find anything about what Mr. Miller did during his time in Florida, Georgia, and wherever else he went to during his dead time.  And so, despite making the Unpaid Interns research the subject for hours and hours and hours at cramped desks in little rooms, I haven't been able to ascertain if he used his real name or used a pseudonym or what. I certainly hope that he did.  Because if he was being Donald Miller, Jr. down in Florida then the guys up in Ohio really did a cracker jack job of looking for him.
     I understand that Al Gore had not invented the Internet yet in 1994, or maybe he was in the process of inventing it while Sarah Palin stood on her porch and looked at Russia, but I would like to assume that there were telephone lines strung in succession from northwest Ohio to just about every part of Florida AND Georgia.  Hell, even Hazzard had phones, and I am pretty sure that there were at least telegraph lines connecting the country all the way back in Civil War times.  They couldn't make a phone call?  Like, they didn't have APB's back then?  I just have so many questions about everything.
     So let's assume that he was going under a different name, like Ronald Miller, Jr. or something.  Or Craig Smithton.  Let's go with Craig Smithton.  Time goes by, events occur, maybe it rains one day.  Somewhere along the way he makes the decision to go back to Ohio and resume his life that he left behind.  He comes back in 2005, almost twenty years after he left, at which time his parents inform him that he is dead.
      So Donald Miller, Jr. instantly becomes the living dead.  And that has to be just terrible.  Whenever I am having a shitty day and I think that things couldn't get much worse, I think of Donald Miller, Jr.  I mean, he is dead.  He has to walk around being not alive.  Except that he is.  And he wanted to restart his life.  So that is why he was in court last week, essentially asking for his life back. He was asking for a reversal of the death declaration so that his drivers license and Social Security number could be restored.  His ex-wife was in court asking for him to continue being dead because she didn't want to pay back the benefits.  And all of them were sitting and making arguments in front of Hancock County Probate Court Judge Allan Davis.
      The Honorable Allan Davis is a man of the law, but I also assume that he is a reasonable and logical person.  Unfortunately the law is not also always logical and reasonable.  And the Honorable Judge Davis has to rule by the law.  And he explained it to those in the courtroom and by proxy the rest of us in the world. (What he did not explain is how a man who is declared legally dead and whom no longer has a Social Security number or driver's license anymore files suit in court.)  "We've got the obvious here" states the Honorable Judge Davis. " A man sitting in the courtroom, he appears to be in good health."  But the Honorable Judge Davis is a man of the law, and Section 2121.05(D) of the Ohio Revised Code says that once you have been legally dead for three years you can't come back to life.  Or at least you can't have your old life restored.
     So Donald Miller, Jr. remains dead, despite the pesky fact that he is still alive.  And he walks among us for everyone to see.  Life really is stranger than fiction.   And the law doesn't always have a basis in reality.  That is how we got this very unique dead man walking.

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

An Open Letter To The Woman Who Is Pissing Me Off At My Non-Media Mogul Second Job

Dear Woman Who Is Pissing Me Off At My Non-Media Mogul Second Job,

     I have absolutely no respect for you anymore.  I did at one point, but now instead of dealing with me like a civilized adult, you have decided to go over my head in a way that is clearly meant to intimidate me.  So that leads me to say fuck off and die.  At first you were just nosy and annoying but now you have pissed me off.  This behavior - general assholishness - should not surprise me seeing as where you live.  And the attitude that you cop with me on the telephone - that you care so much about the environment with just a hint of patronization added in just for effect - could not be more misplaced.  You do not care one bit about the environment at large.  You never cared about the giant, fifty year old issue located a mile from your property for the other forty years that you and it have been co-existing so peacefully.  It was out of sight, so it was out of mind.  But now that something has changed.  A minor, insignificant change that actually betters the greater good of everyone in the whole area at the detriment of one tiny little section of the horizon of a lake on which you do not own property.  That is the most selfish thing that I have ever heard.
     So here is what is going to happen.  Even though I have easy access to your home address, as well as both your land line and cell phone numbers, I am not going to come to where you live.  No, I am going to waste one minute of me precious time hunting you down.  But you had better believe that each and every one of my Unpaid Interns are currently combing databases that even NCIS couldn't get access to in their wildest dreams to find a current photo of you.  And it will be burned into my memory, so that one day when we meet on the street I can lay into you with the fury of a thousand volcanic eruptions.
      I am not going to hit you.   I am not a monster.  My mother raised me right and I don't hit girls.  But I am definitely not above yelling at you a lot in public, in front of at least a dozen people.  And I mean screaming, in your face, with little bits of spittle flying into your face while you just stand there and listen to it.  You husband will probably try to stick his bony old neck in but that won't be a problem because I can punch him in the Adam's apple and he will crumple like a piece of Ikea furniture with only half of the half of the connectors that they supplied you used in the construction.  So then it is back to you.  I am not going to spare a single emotion.  I am going lay it on thick and fast right in front of everyone, and you can believe me when I tell you that I am not going to let you get a word in edgewise.
     When it is all done you will be kneeling on the sidewalk, crying the big, salty, nasty tears that come with having your true self exposed to you in a very public way, leaning over your husband as he frantically stabs at the button on his medic alert necklace.  You are a selfish, unrealistic, stupid, and conceited idiot.  Go to hell and suck on a lemon that is laced with cyanide.

I hope you get SARS,

Big Dave.