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Monthly Archives: August 2016

“Got no woman,
or a steady job.
Feeling like a cowboy
and looking like a slob….”


The Rutles
Living In Hope

Hey. What’s goin’ on?

When it comes to my job, I thought that I had seen it all…but no.

This was a classic.

The other day when I was rushing’ around to go to work, I hastily packed a lunch. It was three baby back ribs from Aldi’s. They were leftover from the weekend. They were pretty good ribs considering that I only paid 6 bucks for an entire slab of ’em. They were pre-cooked and bathed in BBQ sauce and were just the thing to hit the spot at 8 pm on a summer evening.

I had made 5 ribs the night before for my midnight meal and these three were the leftovers from that dinner.

Anyway, as I was searching the cupboards to find a container, I ran into a small snag. I couldn’t put it in my pink tupperware bowl because the ribs themselves were too large to fit in this particular round container. I moved on to a disposable Ziploc container that I had bought at Aldi’s… one of those clear things with the blue lid….this proved to be too large and would take up too much real estate in my backpack.

I then found a smaller Ziploc container and this proved to be too small as well. (But the ribs would “go” into the container-with a little force-so this was to be the container that I would use.)

I shoved the ribs into it, got the lid on it, threw it into my backpack and headed off to work.

I went into work, put my lunch into the fridge and set about my day.

At 8 pm, (which is our union sanctioned lunchbreak) I went to get the ribs. As I was walking over to the microwave I couldn’t help but notice that the container seemed a tad light.

That was weird.

I opened the container and was distressed to find that there were only two ribs in it. I stood there looking at it for a minute or two…because my brain was desperately trying to process what had taken place between the hours of 3:30 and 8…

That someone actually stole one rib from my lunch.

Paul (the guy I eat my lunch with) came over to stare into my twisted container with me after he noticed my facial distress from afar. I told him that somebody actually ate one of the ribs out of the container. He started laughing and when I didn’t start laughing with him, he really began to believe that I was actually serious.

I said, “Dude,…I put three bones in this thing at three o’clock and now there’s two”.

He looked at the container, which was all bent and and kind of twisted from me trying to get the three bones in there, and he even deduced that it looked like it held somethin’ more than the two bones that currently resided.

We stood there looking at each other as to try and make sense of the current critical situation.

Is it possible that I was mistaken?

No!

I transferred three bones into three different containers before I left the house! There was no question that there were three bones in there!

And now there was two!

Now, since the thought that someone pawed over my lunch was just too un-appetizing for me to comprehend, I took the remaining bones and threw them out and sat and pouted while Paul ate his boloney and ketchup sandwich.

Not much was said during our lunch break…but the latent underlying issue was still there.

Who…would actually go into someone else’s lunch…and eat just one spare-rib?

I knew it wasn’t Paul because…well…it’s Paul.

Paul doesn’t go in the fridge cause it’s a dark and scary place. I don’t like to go in the fridge because it’s a dark and scary place…but since meat has this “thing” about being refrigerated, I have to put my lunch in there.

I really don’t think this was a personal affront because my name wasn’t on the container and no one saw me put it in there. I think this was just someone who was hungry and decided to rummage aound in the fridge to see what there was to gnosh.

Isn’t that a bit scary?

How many times have I put something in there that I DIDN’T know was pawed over before lunchtime? If I brought spaghetti, how would I know that someone didn’t stand there eating it with his or her own bare hands?

Is this an isolated incident or is this something that is running rampant?

You can’t tell management about something like this either. They would just look at you like you were crazy…or laugh…or quickly dismiss it out of hand because they actually KNOW who did it and are working hard at trying to protect the guilty party. Trying to protect one of their own, as it were.

Paul speculated that it might be the president of the company.

I dismissed it because the president of the company, on that particular day, was wearing a powder blue shirt and no one in their right mind would eat BBQ spareribs while wearing a powder blue shirt. Too much room for error.

He agreed.

No, I think this was someone “on the floor”, as it were. Someone who knew the inner-machinations and the dietary habits of the people and their environs. Someone who has access to the fridge and could go in there unfettered. Someone who could pretend like they’re looking for his or her own lunch when, in reality, they’re actually just standing there pawing over and eating other people’s food.

This is a guy who could blend into the background. A guy who would say “Sup” as you walked by. A guy who can strike and disappear.

I walked around the plant looking in the various garbage cans placed hither and yon…to see if I could find a discarded rib-bone perched majestically upon a mound a refuse…but it was to no avail.

This kind of put a damper on the rest of the night…for Paulie as well. He went over to the bulletin board and pulled down a memo from the president. It was about some stolen material and what they’re going do when they get their hands on the guilty party.

He xeroxed it and, on the copy, crossed out the part where it says “stolen copper braiding” and wrote in “stolen rib-bone”.

Even though I laughed, I was still kind of depressed about it.

(pause)

I just feel so violated.

Anyway…

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“As I walk through,
This wicked world,
Searchin’ for light in the darkness of insanity,
I ask myself,
Is all hope lost?,
Is there only pain and hatred and misery?”


Elvis Costello
(Whats so funny ’bout) Peace Love and Understanding

image

I find it truly disconcerting that after fifty-three years of life on this planet, there actually is someone who could call cole slaw,”cold slaw”,…without a hint of self-consciousness or shame. When I hear this type of bombastic banter, I don’t correct, cajole or even laugh. I let it pass with the silence of a sparrow.

It’s not the fact that the person doesn’t know better. I think it’s more the fact that, to him at least, it sounds more pleasing to the indiscriminate ear. Not withstanding, of course, my own ears, which happen to be more discriminate than the next set of fifty-year-old ears.

Cole slaw is, indeed, cold. It is not, however, called “cold” slaw for that reason.

Whatever the reason is,…(of which, I do not know, because the origins of the cole slaw escapes me at the present moment)….as to why it’s not denoted with the “cold” prefix,…instead of the regular ol’ “cole”…remains a mystery for the ages.

I would be remiss to not say that I don’t think it makes a lot of sense NOT to call it cold slaw, as the verbal pronunciation could remain as a reminder to us that this particular dish requires refrigeration, but the simple fact remains that our fathers, and their fathers before them, called this scrumptious cabbage delight, “cole slaw”.

Therefore, we must adapt ourselves accordingly. We must continue on in the tradition that was taught to us as young children. We must adhere to the bindings of this verbal usage.

I do not, however, look down upon those who make the innocent mistake of calling this gastronomic delight, “cold slaw”. It simply doesn’t make sense for me to point out the fact that their butchery of this innocuous title is something that they should feel inferior about.

I am, simply put, not that ‘mean of spirit’ as it were.

Some would argue to the contrary. Some would say, that by simply writing this essay, I am, indeed, that mean of spirit.

I say bullocks to that.

There is nothing more distracting than to hear someone call cole slaw, “cold slaw”. The articulation of the term “cold slaw” is increasingly demonstrative of the fact that we are, indeed, a TV nation who depend more upon the mistakenly heard word than the written word.

It is a sorry reflection upon the collective, “we”. I do not wish to be lumped into the masses who call cole slaw, “cold slaw”. To do so would be a mistake.

However, if,…when ordering food from a Jewish deli,…I am in the company of a person who uses the word, “cold” immediately prior to the word “slaw”, I am in danger, by my simple silence, of being in agreement with the incorrect term, of which, I am most decidedly, NOT.

This, of course, creates a pickle.

I am left with the awkward task of having to use the correct term. I am the one who, by using the correct verbiage, is made out to be the villain in this scenario, when all I wanna do is simply order a fatty corned beef sandwich with cole slaw and baked beans.

Let us not pretend to be something that we are not. Let us not pretend that the incorrect use of the word ‘cold’ does not bother us. Should we, as caring brothers of our fellow-man, stand mute when this verbal faux pas transpires in our presence? I answer that with a resounding NO!…but we should do it anyway.

Stand mute, that is, if only to (perish the thought) save others from the embarrassment that is tantamount to the soiling of one’s own pants in a very public forum. If we are the strongest nation on the face of the planet, then we must not appear as dolts when referring to our finely chopped cabbage friend as “cold”,….Yes?…but we do because we are afraid to correct our other, less learned friends,….aren’t we?

Let’s all get on board and present a unified spirit to the rest of the world.

Let’s drop the l d in favor of the correct l e,…o k?

E and D are only one letter apart….but they can do a lot of damage when in the wrong hands.

…and,…while we’re at it….as we tarry forth into the great unknown of the new century, I find it amazing that a person,….who has been on this planet for 46 years,….actually refers to the hats that I wear as “berets”…..

They’re “newsboy” hats.

What other foods are like that? Where the name is butchered to actually represent something in the name?

Anyway,….

“Breathe,…breathe in the air,
Don’t be afraid to care,
Leave, but don’t leave me,
Look around, choose your own ground…”

Pink Floyd
Breathe

We have now gotten ourselves into a sticky situation. I’m speaking, of course, about the current and dangerous trend that we find with the present state of candy production. It seems that the faceless denizens of corporate America have decided that another check-mate should be incorporated against the sheeple.

Hershey Candy has just perpetuated one of the biggest conspiracies in the history of candy production. The aerated chocolate bar.

They say they invented it, in spite of the fact that aerated chocolate already accounts for $500 million in confectionary sales worldwide. That doesn’t matter when a conspiracy is afoot. It’s what you see at the moment. You believe it because the TV tells you it’s true.

Let’s be blunt and to the point. They are pumping free air into your candy and you are paying for less chocolate that is replaced by a somewhat chocolate flavored air bubble.

It’s the same with White Castle hamburgers. They give you a tiny hamburger and then,…hold the phone here,…poke holes into that tiny hamburger and call them “flavor holes”. These flavor holes are filled with the same air that they fill the Aerated Hershey bar with. And that air is free, people. You are paying for something that is free. The annual profits on free air could possibly reach upwards to the equivalent of 12% of our national defense fund.

We see more air in our food all the time. So much so that we become blind to it after a while. A half-gallon of ice cream is no longer a half-gallon. It’s smaller than a half-gallon, isn’t it? But you still pay the half-gallon price. Why is that?

When a small potato chip bag gets opened, it’s filled 1/4 the way with potato chips,…the other 3/4 the way with,…you guessed it! Air. Free air. Free Air that you are paying for, once again, with you hard earned farthings.

The last time I checked, air was free. It’s all around me until, say, someone crop-dusts me in a Best-Buy or a low-level liquor store and/or elevator.

To put this rare commodity (known as air) into your tires, you have to pay for that. You pay 75 cents for all the free air that you can aerate your tires with in your three minute allotted time. The problem with tires, of course, is that you don’t eat them but they need to be aerated nonetheless. It’s air and it’s channeled,…but it’s still air. It’s still air and air is free. You are now paying the owner of the property for that free air!

(It says so right on the sign: Air-75cents.)

Branching out into other directions of our God-given free air, there is another commodity that is worth mentioning here. Water. Water is free. Water is all around us. We need water to live. Water is another commodity that we now pay for.

Let’s hearken back to the aerated candy bar for a second. They put it in your candy and you pay for it and get less. The same with water. They put frozen water in your drink and you pay a tariff for that. They tell you it’s free,…while automatically charging you for it.

How, you say? By the real estate in your glass. You get less Sangria when they fill it with free ice (frozen water) than if there was no frozen water in the equation. Sans ice, you get blotto’d. With ice, you get a slight buzz. If you got the ice, you just got ripped off because a good Sangria should really level you out. It’s their contention that it is desirable for your glass to sweat with coolness.

This is the propaganda that is put forth. Wine with lime and orange tastes exactly the same after two sips whether it be iced (frozen watered) or not.

People, we need to be proactive on this dumbing down situation that we currently find ourselves in. We need to stand up and take control of our free, God-given elements that we need to survive. The Reichstag burned in a day. The government leaders are doing this to us subtly. We now pay for air and water in consumables.

This tyranny will not stand!

Anyway…