Skip navigation

Category Archives: angst

“She keeps Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet
‘Let them eat cake’, she says,
Just like Marie Antoinette.
A built-in remedy,
For Kruschev and Kennedy,
At anytime an invitation
You can’t decline…”

QUEEN
KILLER QUEEN

I was standing in the checkout line today. I was buying some Chuckles and milk. I had to be at work at three. It was two forty-five. The woman in front of me was taking her good sweet time producing the payment for her choices.

I looked down at a refridgerated case next to the cashier line.

I saw some bottles that were emblazoned with the words: “Moet et Chandon”.

All of a sudden, finger-snaps started playing my head.

Sonofabitch. That’s what Freddie Mercury was singing about the whole time! I heard the words a million times before but couldn’t understand them.

I never knew what the hell he was saying!

Moet et Chandon!….Champagne!…of course!!

$53 bucks a bottle!….shuhh.

Just gimme my Chuckles and milk.

…and you learn something new everyday, don’t ya?

Moet et Chandon.

Who knew?

Anyway….

“You can run all your life
And not go anywhere…”

Social Distortion
Ball and Chain….”

I really can’t believe how badly this week had gone for me.

Just saying because nothing else need to be said…

Anyway….

“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…

“And the sign said “Long-haired freaky people need not apply,”
So I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why,
He said, “You look like a fine upstanding young man, I think you’ll do,”
So I took off my hat, I said “Imagine that. Huh! Me workin’ for you!”
Whoa-oh-oh!……”

I was toiling at my job today when the song, “Signs”, scrolled across the ol’ pod. It has been a standard for the counter-culture for as long as I can remember. The song has spanned generations and still gets radio play with great frequency.

Some things birthed by The Five Man Electrical Band are just born to stay, I guess.

Not a bad song, on the whole, but during the 3 or so minutes of the song, it actually gives a black eye to the counter-culture movement rather than praise it…as it was originally intended to do.

The irony of it all is really quite sobering if you think about it.

My witness to the song is neither to the right or the left. I actually, truth be told, swing to the conservative end of the spectrum whilst doing my best to look like a lefty of the old guard. I guess what I mean is that I look like a hippy, yet tend to vote non-Democrat….and it hasn’t always been that way either. There was a time I was truly a Democrat. I understand where they’re comin’ from, man.

The thing about this song is found in it’s human-ness. It’s just the typical selfish attitude of, “I want what I want when I want it”. We all fall victim to that once in a while,…but when it’s enhanced and condensed into a three minute song, there’s just something about those lyrics that can truly grate on a person’s nerves.

Here’s what I mean.

We take this first set of lyrics:

“And the sign said “Long-haired freaky people need not apply,”
So, I tucked my hair up under my hat and I went in to ask him why,
He said, “You look like a fine upstanding young man, I think you’ll do,”
So I took off my hat, I said “Imagine that. Huh! Me workin’ for you!”
Whoa-oh-oh!

Granted, this young man is angry for some reason. Since the song starts there, we do not know the cause of his anger. You can even hear it in his voice when he starts singing. He already has a chip on his shoulder.

We can garner, due to his piqued fury, that the sign he read may have been paraphrased due to his anger. But we don’t know this, do we? It could have very well said, “Clean-cut gentlemen wanted for food preparation. Must wear hair-net. Interested applicants please apply inside. Thank You.”

If he were to truly put up a sign that said, “Long-haired freaky people need not apply,”, he would probably have a law suit levied against him by the ACLU,….which could be pretty pricey when it comes to court costs. Small business owners tend to know when to pick their battles in cases of possible legal interjection and potential legal injunctions.

Be that as it may, because of his attitude, he felt he had to play some shenanigans with the shop owner or restauranteur who kindly complimented him on his appearance and offered him a job so he could EARN some money….but then the young man decided hat the best course was to deride and ridicule the person who was offering him gainful employment.

Moving on….

“And the sign said anybody caught trespassin’ would be shot on sight,
So I jumped on the fence and-a yelled at the house,
“Hey! What gives you the right?,
To put up a fence to keep me out or to keep mother nature in,
If God was here he’d tell you to your face, Man, you’re some kinda sinner!….”

Now, here our hero decides that it’s a dashed good idea to provoke home-owners by testing the limits as to how far he can go before the owner of the property actually pulls a gun and shoots him because he feels threatened by him. It becomes a wanton disregard to his own safety to do this because the right to bear arms is very clear in matters of self-defense. People have a right to protect themselves from unstable people who tread onto and into their property uninvited. There are trespassing laws, young man. They are on the books and have been for a very, very long time. Even in 2014, people can own property,…and have the right to protect that property and the souls that dwell on that property.

As a side note, the declaration about whether or not God is here shows a true lack of theological knowledge. To say “if” means you’re not too sure. If you invoke the name of God and brazenly presume to know what He would say in this particular given instance, then that means you have a simple, cursory understanding of who He is,…and your presumption that you can actually anticipate what He would say truly makes you seemingly above God….or greater than. That is called, “Mania” my friend. They have medication for that now.

Moving on,…

“Now, hey you, mister, can’t you read?
You’ve got to have a shirt and tie to get a seat,
You can’t even watch, no you can’t eat,
You ain’t supposed to be here,
The sign said you got to have a membership card to get inside….
Ugh!….”

Here we get into your philosophy, young man. In those five lines uttered, you have turned the looking glass upon yourself. In your reckless abandon of fury, you have decided that any and all rules and regulations are simply fallow and unjust because it doesn’t include your unblemished and regimented train of thought. Some places, if you don’t have a tie, they give you one free of charge! As far as membership cards go, I can’t go to the local BJ’s because I never applied for a card. If I were to take the time to do so, I would be admitted. I just don’t know what I would do with that much Ramen or spaghetti sauce, that’s all. I choose not to get a card,…but I can if I so desire. It takes all of five minutes. You have much more than five minutes available,….you just turned down a job….

Moving on,…

“And the sign said, “Everybody welcome. Come in, kneel down and pray,”
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn’t have a penny to pay,
So I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign,
I said, “Thank you, Lord, for thinkin’ ’bout me. I’m alive and doin’ fine.”
Wooo!…..”

And here is where we come full circle, my job-less friend. Need I remind you that not more than 2 minutes ago, you were offered gainful employment which you turned down with no chance of another interview. That’s why you didn’t have a penny to pay,….which, theologically speaking, you are not paying anything. You are tithing. That is supposed to be 10% of your total income. Now, say, if you found ten dollars in the street, you would be obliged to “tithe” one dollar,….and your actions in that would then be multiplied. It is the only area in which God says we can “test” Him. But you already know that since you know what God is gonna say before He says it, correct?

So,…you see, my loud-mouthed friend,…..that commie crap only goes so far. We are not communist yet,…..close, but not yet. My advice to you is to go back to school, get a degree and become a part of society. The way you live is way too hard and way too in the dark. I applaud you for your determination to stick to your principals, but they are doing you more harm than good.

You can still be a rebel. There’s no problem there. You can smart off to the boss when you have seniority. Just focus a bit. Gain some footing,…but this moving around ten times in a three minute song just ain’t gonna pay off, man. Tom Hayden and Abbie Hoffman had to pay their dues to become credible.

You should too.

Anyway,…

“Sometimes it’s hard to believe,
That you’re never coming back to me.
I’ve had this dream that you’d always be by my side.
Oh, I could have died.

But now I see that you’re so happy.
And ooh, it just sets me free.
And I’d like to see,
Us as good of friends,
As we used to be,….”

Wilson Phillips
You’re In Love

I had to make the move today. It had to be done. I hate starting over but it’s a fact of life. It happens to the best of us, I guess.

I had to change the pass-codes on all of my devices today. I couldn’t bear typing in that same four-digit number again. Today was the day that it had to end.

I might miss 7734 in the future. I don’t know. The number has served me well since it’s been with me. It’s nothing against the number itself, of course. It’s just that the chemistry between us has grown stagnant in recent days. It was always there for me when I needed it….like when I would be standing in a checkout and there would be someone taking their good sweet time in front of me. 7734 was always there to help open up the wonders of electronic connectivity to the world that was just beyond where I currently stood.

It’s not 7734. It’s me and my selfishness that is to blame. I know this. But it’s better to have been served by 7734 than not at all! I would’ve missed so much of the world had it not been for 7734

I loved 7734.

image

There were also those great instances in which 7734 would actually let me by-pass itself. It gave me the freedom to soar without choking me with inane legalities. If I ever wanted to use the calculator or the camera on the fly, 7734 was always fine with that. If I had to check under the hood on a rainy night, 7734 was there with the flashlight. That number always knew what was important and what wasn’t.

7734 always knew what was best for me.

If I wanted to access my personal information, it made sure I had it’s proper sequence before I did….and that’s ok. I trusted 7734 to always look out for my best interests all the time. 7734 always made damn sure I had it’s number before it would let me flit Higgledy-Piggledy onto Facebook, YouTube and even this blog you’re now currently reading….providing that you even got this far into this post.

(Which, by now, is pretty much a miracle in and of itself…..T’a’int it?)

I loved 7734….but I had to move on. Our relationship had become somewhat trite and banal. It was time for a change. I’m the bad guy in this scenario. I don’t deny it. I just had to walk away. Some of you may call me a coward,…I suppose I deserve that.

Anyway,…

“The grocery store’s the super mart,
uh huh
Little girls still break their hearts,
uh huh
And men still keep on marching off to war,
Electrically they keep a baseball score,…”


The Beat Goes On
Sonny And Cher

‘Tis the ending of another banal 7 day week. Nothing portends evil like the waking moment of a clammy and cold October Monday morning,…but, alas, that is a mere two days away and I have less on my plate tonight then I did when I started this odyssey in the early afternoon hours of this particular day.

I had to run to the bank and was forced to tarry there (far longer than I wanted to) due to the fact that it took four tellers to attend to the man that was parked outside in the drive-through,….no doubt attending to multiple (and possibly questionable) transactions from the comfort and safety of his own vehicle.

I was patently ignored. The man who actually got out of his vehicle and took the time to walk into said bank,…was, indeed, put on hold in favor of the ne’er-do-well who thought it perfectly ok to not leave his vehicle whilst conducting MULTIPLE transactions.

After my business there was complete, I motored over to my other bank so as to withdraw some farthings that might be needed during the course of this fine autumnal evening.

I withdrew the 20 bucks from the ATM and went on my way.

Has my life really sunk to this? Go to the bank, pay bills, go get a 20 spot that I can’t afford and then get a cheap sandwich to lunch upon while I work my increasingly boring job?

That’s all fine and good. I don’t care. I pay the bills and keep food on the table. I should be grateful for that,…not being in the red and all,…it’s just the dashed balmy-ness of it all.

I will do something crazy here and just take a random picture of something. How’s that?

image

My Paul McCartney bass laying on dirty socks and underwear near the dresser in my room. That was pretty exciting, wasn’t it? (I actually left it there because I will be recording a soundtrack for a movie on Sunday during the Steelers/Browns game.)

I did a list of ailments this week. (I bet you’re glad your reading this post, aren’t you?) I have determined that my left forefinger hurts sometimes and that my jaw pops. The jaw has never done that before. The finger comes and goes,…but the jaw has never done that before. It only pops at work. Not when I get home. I have to wonder if it’s stress or something. It kinda hurts when it does that….I don’t know.

I think the root of the problem is that I miss the 1970s. I am not old. I’m just nostalgic. I love nostalgia…but that’s for another post, I suppose.

Nothing like that Farrah Fawcett poster though.

image

Beyonce has nothing on her. Beyonce struts her ass all over the stage and then lights up the word “Feminist”.

image

Yeah.

Uhhh,…

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Yeah, right. Really?

Gwenyth Paltrow just cooed to Obama that he was “so handsome that she can’t speak properly”.

(Pause)

Ok. Now how many of you think I’m a boring old fart because I miss the 70’s?

Anyway,….

So on we go,…
His welfare is of my concern.
No burden is he to bear,
We’ll get there.

For I know,
He would not encumber me.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother….”


The Hollies
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother

Rep. Steve Stockman (R-Texas) announced on Thursday that he has filed a resolution directing the House sergeant-at-arms to “arrest Lois Lerner for contempt of Congress” over the IRS targeting scandal.

Stockman said in a statement that asking the U.S. Department of Justice to prosecute Lerner for “admittedly illegal activity” is a “joke.” Instead, the Republican said it is up to the U.S. House to “uphold the rule of law and hold accountable those who illegally targeted American citizens for simply having different ideas than the President.”

Under the proposed resolution, Lerner would be held in a Washington, D.C., jail and would be given access to an attorney and all her constitutional rights.

All her Constitutional rights. She has access to all her Constitutional rights. How patently ironic it is, isn’t it? The same document that she wants to destroy is the one that she needs to hide behind. I would love to be a fly on that wall when they come to take her. (Which they probably never will, of course. To arrest means to charge. To charge means to pardon and that’s what she will undoubtedly get from the Obama administration.)

But!….on the flip side of that? I would love to see her in handcuffs and sitting in the back of a police car just once! That would be the ultimate photo-op for the up coming mid-term TV commercials.

But that’s not what I wanted to talk about here. I really wanted to talk about Lois in a more serious and refined manner. The fact of the matter is that Lois has more pressing problems than simply being arrested by Congress for targeting the tea-party. This revelation delves into absolute madness, my friends.

The thing I want to talk about is the Lerner doppleganger factor. This can potentially have a damaging effect on her future career choices if it ever comes to light….if she ever sees the light of day again and in the highly improbable chance that she may ever have a career again.

I am speaking, of course, about the Golem factor.

The year? 1920! The country? Germany! The star? Paul Wegener! The Movie? The GOLEM!!!

(I have to point out that the comparisons are not for the faint of heart.)

It can also be said that the Golem was actually a good guy….unlike Lerner who,…umm,….how shall I say this?

“ISN’T”

Be that as it may, let’s just take a look at this incredible doppelganger freak of nature, shall we?

imageimage
Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

The hairstyle is almost exactly the same, isn’t it, kids? Freaky, to say the least. The golem looks a little more approachable however.

Moving on….

imageimage
The Golem,…I mean Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

They both carry purses in their left hands. That means they both must be left handed! Dopplegangers who have the same primary hand! What are the odds of that?!!…and they wear the same jacket!!!

imageimage
Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

They both have a look of defiance on their face here. Lois’s defiance is at Congress,…like a petulant spoiled child….The Golem’s look says, “You want to get it on, you stupid democrats? I’ll smack the taste outta your mouth. Bring it on you punks!”

Geez. You can hardly tell the two apart. They’re brothers from different mothers.

Anyway,….

“So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind.
Hang it on the shelf of good health and good time.
Tattoo’s of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right,
I hope you had the time of your life….”


Green Day
Good Riddance (The Time Of Your Life)

image

Know what I miss?

Motorcycle cops. They just don’t exist anymore, do they? They’d pull up next to you at a stoplight and then they would look to the right or left and then give you one of those silent, almost imperceptible nods as if to say, “Hey. What’s goin’ on, man?”…..from behind mirrored sunglasses and from behind a mustache. I miss that.

image

Now, our police are militarized. They drive tanks and Humvees. They need them to carry stun guns and AR-15s and that kinda shit…..They’re not as personable when they drive those. They still look to the right and to the left,…it’s just that,…umm,…you don’t.

image

Know what I miss?

Carburetors. That finely designed and fragile fuel-injection artifact that could take all sorts of heavy-duty abuse. Nothing could be better on a frigid winter morning than to walk out of your house with a freakin’ can of ether in one hand and a freakin’ “Goody” comb in the other. You pop the hood to your Chevelle, take off the BIG, ROUND AIR CLEANER, pop that rocker back and spray that ether into your carb. You stick the ass end of the “Goody” comb in to hold the rocker in place, jump into your car and fire it up, replace the air filter and you’re on your way, baby. (This action, btw, would take 15 seconds.)

imageimage

Now, we have the E-checks. There’s a computer in your car that you are REGULATED to have checked (at certain intervals) to see if there is any hi-jinks going on in the car when the EPA isn’t looking. This organization’s sole purpose is to be a watch dog over your automobile. If they detect ether, you don’t get your stickers, Mister!! And you will pay a mechanic dearly as penance.

image

Know what I miss? T.V’s (Television’s)”The Flying Nun”. Sally Field was so great as that tiny troublemaking nun that could fly when she lifted up her little nun,…habit,…hat…thing. I miss that. She would be shooting marbles with dirty little orphans and, at a moment’s notice, she would be flying through mountains to get to the scene of some untowardly actions so she can single-handedly take down a Peruvian drug lord. I miss that. I miss “The Flying Nun”.

image

Now we have The Little Kardashian Sisters Of The Poor doing sex on the internet with Vegas taking odds on how long one or two of the marriages would last along with battles in court to keep “The Flying Nun” off the air in re-runs because the atheists are supposedly “offended” by her presence on THEIR air waves.

image

Know what I miss?

The Clash. The only band that mattered and who sweated onstage to make a living and a change. These guys played Bonds in NYC for two weeks straight because the promotor “oversold” all of the shows. They wanted to honor every last ticket sold so they stayed until every last fan was played to. (1982)

image

Now we have Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus “who just don’t like going to work”,….as said so very appropriately by Sir Paul McCartney. They were chastised by him! Chastised, I say! Chastised by Sir Paul himself!!

imageimage

Know what I miss?

I miss the days when you could actually buy vinyl. The art work on the album cover was always second to none. Hell, I miss the days when you could actually buy a cassette tape. Hell, I even miss the days when you could buy a CD!

image

Now we have downloadable music that can’t be burned to a CD and can only be listened to on certain “devices” that you have to prove you own before you can do it.

Know what I miss?

Everything.

Anyway,…

“So I walk up on high,
And I step to the edge
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself,…”


Collective Soul
The World I Know

What does it mean when I wake up and have visual flashes that I am falling off a sky-scraper or out of a plane? It’s like vertigo, and I always wake up that way now. Any idea?

image

Anyway,….

“Ooooh, I hear laughter in the rain,
walkin’ hand in hand with,
the one I love….”


Neil Sedaka
Laughter In The Rain

Here are the top ten things I learned today:

10. Neil Sedaka sounds like chick when he sings “Laughter In The Rain”. Why is that? He sounds like Toni Tennille. It’s rather disconcerting. It really makes me question my sexuality when I hear that song because of the whole “Boy George Syndrome”. So Bogus, man. (I think a chick is singing to me and then I realize it’s a dude. Bogus.)

9. My Dr. wanted to check my sugar the last time I visited him. I begged off on that. To circumvent the $400 lab fee, I got one of those little devices that does it for you. Considerably cheaper.

8. Where the hell is Flight 370? (I put that here because no-one else is reporting on it anymore….talk amongst yourselves….)

7. The color yellow irritates me.

6. Hebrew National hot dogs ain’t all that. They’re good,…but they ain’t all that.

5. If your room faces the south in the summertime, you will, no matter what, wake up sweltering. Even if the air is set at a balmy 71 degrees. You will be picking the crotch of your underwear out of the crack of your butt upon waking.

4. Good-Looking chicks that need no make-up simply need no make-up. Ever. I mean, there is no point, right? I am begging you,….don’t waste your time. You’re hot enough.

3. A Payday candy bar might be the world’s most perfect food….next to Ramen.

2. You never believe a dog is blind or deaf until you open the fridge and it hits them in the face because they can’t see it or hear it opening….but it does beg the question,…why are they looking at a refrigerator door all the time?

1. Where the hell is Flight 370? (I put that here because no-one else is reporting on it anymore….talk amongst yourselves….)

Anyway,….