Greetings Blog Readers!
I need a little favor. Some of you have heard of the game called:
Would you rather…
For example, would you rather get bitten by a snake on the leg or a spider on your neck?
Can you send me your question (email: scottlatta@gmail.com) in the Would You Rather… format and I will take the 20-30 most interesting and answer them in my blog next week. Thank you in advance!
— Scott
ME: Good morning!
THE RABBLE: “That’s racist! You are a racist!”
ME: What did I say?
THE RABBLE: “You said good morning. Clearly something a white person would say!”
…me at the press conference:
I would like to apologize to anyone I offended with my open-ended remark intended to wish everyone reading my blog a good morning. The greeting was not just intended for people of Caucasian descent but to everyone around the globe regardless of skin pigment. To me, everyone in cyber space is colorless, odorless and equal. I hope this does not affect the many multi-national relationships I have built over the years.
So let me again wish everyone a pleasant and good morning. I hope you were able to at least smirk at the good-natured poke I took at a very touchy topic. A great mind, in his time and after his time, George Carlin once said you can joke about anything. It all depends on how you structure the joke. He then went on to joke about cartoon characters from Looney Tunes fame, Porky Pig and Elmer Fudd, on a topic that is not considered a joking topic. Look it up on YouTube if you are not familiar with the bit.
Unless you are deaf, mute and have been locked in a tower for the last one hundred years without any social interaction or the internet, you are familiar with the term and concept of racism. Below is the definition of racism:
“the belief that all members of each race possess characteristics or abilities specific to that race, especially so as to distinguish it as inferior or superior to another race or races.”
* prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one’s own race is superior.
This concept boils down to one side thinking it is better than another based on superficial traits. Straight up being serious here. This is one of the more stupid things in the history of the human race. Primarily today it is viewed as people of a nationality or based on the color of their skin are __ insert stereo-type here. But throughout the ages it has had a little different context. People who lived in a certain area were deemed inferior to people who lived in another designated area. Also people with wealth were viewed as superior to those without wealth. Call it what you want but it’s just somebody trying to ‘win’ something in life based on something inconsequential.
In this world judgement exists. If I show up to work in a bedazzled woman’s t-shirt wearing flip-flops with crazy bedhead – people will talk and make some sort of assumption on why I look like I do. If you see a person on the sidewalk pushing a grocery cart filled with a cornucopia of riff-raff and the person is wearing dirty, ill-fitting clothes you are naturally going to start rationalizing in your mind why they look like that. If you see a person in nicely pressed business attire walking briskly towards a high-end sports car, again you are going to make some mental assumptions about that person.
Notice I didn’t say man or woman or add any ethnicity to the above descriptions – I just said person. Based on your own personal experiences, you may have pictured the two generic people as both men or both women. They may be Caucasian (white), African-American (black), Asian (non-white), Spanish (tan?) or some other variation based on your life experiences or TV shows depicting similar characters. And for the record, however your mind colored or didn’t color the above characters doesn’t make you a racist.
Let me give you an example. Some people know who Carl Lewis is. Carl Lewis, an American, was an Olympic athlete who won four gold medals in the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles. Notice the facts. Carl Lewis was the superior athlete in four events and won four gold medals. Based on what I wrote, just what I wrote, what do you know about Carl Lewis? He is/was: an American, an athlete and a gold medal winner. If I would’ve said, Carl Lewis was a black athlete and because of his heritage he possessed certain physical attributes to help him win four gold medals. This previous statement is not what I said nor what I am saying it. One sentence is very clinical and just a skeleton of the bones of the argument and the other is adding potentially personal-flavored perception. The second statement on Mr. Carl Lewis is insinuating that he was superior to some of the athletes based on genetics of his heritage instead of his determination, drive and heart. Carl Lewis was not the only ‘black’ athlete in the events of those games. So if all black athletes are superior and equally gifted, then why wasn’t there a multiple-way tie in those events? If just being ‘black’ made them all able to do the same thing, then shouldn’t each athlete of a similar skin tone had the exact same performance? Apparently not since he was the clear winner four times for those games. What set him apart was not his skin pigment or who his ancestors were…it was his individual efforts in conjunction with the work he put in with his coaches, friends and family.
With this being said, I do know that racism exists in the world. Saying otherwise is short-sighted and foolish. But let me hedge this argument a bit. There is a difference between racism and oppression. Oppression by definition is: prolonged cruel or unjust treatment or control. You do not have to look very far to see racism. Just watch some baseball. Every time Adam Jones of the Baltimore Orioles hits a home run, the stats team will update the viewers on how he ranks among African-American ballplayers active and in history. When the 80-year old Bartolo Colon wins another ballgame, again the stats team will give a blurb about how he ranks among Latino pitchers of history. This is obviously a back-burner, low-profile form of racism but it is still racism. Last time I checked, these guys are just men playing baseball and in terms of the history of baseball, they really aren’t all that special – no offense to those two examples. But since we classified them based on the color of their skin or where they were born, now all of a sudden there is different context. Cut and dry it’s racism. It’s not oppression but it is racism. There are Caucasian stats as well but you will never hear ESPN say Babe Ruth is the top home run hitter of all-time among Caucasian players. The world would lose its mind. But when the other players are ethnitized it’s OK. I find it amusing. These baseball examples all have men as the basis, no women. That’s sexist. But that is a different argument for a different day.
Now outside of sports, the line on racism and oppression is a little more fuzzy. Are there people walking around in everyday life hating people of a specific race for no real good reason? Yes. See the KKK and other hater groups. Thinking everyone of similar ancestry alive today is superior or inferior to another group of people of a particular heritage is archaic and absurd. If you disagree watch the Jerry Springer show. There are people of every descent and tax bracket being straight up retarded. And I do not mean mentally challenged…I mean moronically retarded.
For the people who are truly oppressed you have my sympathies and my word that I am not directly doing anything to oppress you. Oppression and discrimination are wrong. Any child that has some semblance of a decent parent or two can confirm this. Maybe if there was some sort of Dexter-ish run organization, true oppression and discrimination would be eradicated. Perhaps F. Paul Wilson will enlist Repairman Jack to fix this problem.
In closing, let me say racism is dumb. Whether it’s practiced by white people or black people – it’s dumb. Also, crying racism every time something doesn’t go your way or get said the way you want it to…get over yourselves, you are just making yourselves look uneducated. In these ridiculously hyper-sensitive times you cannot make even a bland statement without someone ‘interpreting’ every little thing as a negative connotation against a person or group. Life is hard people. Stop making it harder with bull poop that doesn’t affect anything except to cause a virtual uproar. Stop and think for yourselves every now and again just for giggles. Feel like calling someone out for being an A-hole. Fine. Making it a race issue because their skin color differs from yours…it’s embarrassing to most level-headed humans who simply judge the people by their actions. There is a difference between being an a$$hole and being a racist or an oppressor. A large percentage of the populous ARE a$$holes but only a very small percentage are actually malicious racists. Don’t get me wrong, there are quite a few racists by proxy who have laughed at a joke inferring racial stereo-types. For the most part these people are harmless and have many friends of that color.
Be good to each other. Treat every one as if you are talking to them with your eyes closed or are trapped in a completely dark room with them. Make up your mind about each and every single person based on how they interact with you or how they treat the less fortunate or other telltale actions and not some off-hand remark misconstrued.
Bring on Halloween so we all can put on a mask and hide away for a day from the real two-faced people. Peace!
Maco (mah-ko) is just a taco made for Mondays since Tuesdays seem to lord over the taco world. Shame on you Tuesday. Get something else. Monday needs tacos…and alcohol…and softball…and random people giving you a duffle bag filled with $243,000 in cash.
In the meantime while I am patiently waiting for the above things to come to fruition, how’s about we do a little blog writing? Maybe a little internet magic collaboration? This could work. You think of a number and I’ll think of a number, any number. OK I have my number, do you have yours? Was my number 243,000? OMG! It was! Magic is so cool!
What? That was totally a legit trick. Who else on the planet could’ve figured out my number? Probably a handful of people at most. OK still no ice cream truck driving by and slinging duffle bags. Poop. I’m guessing today may not be my lucky day. So in the hopes that today is not a lethally unlucky day, let’s get on with it!
Right now I am listening to dead people on YouTube.com. At the time the people in question were alive but in the present day they are no longer alive. Jani Lane. Kevin Dubrow. Robin Williams. Dave Williams. And a few select others. I have a playlist called Dead As A Doornail featuring some of my favorite artists who left the main road awhile back. Since we are on the subject, how did the door-nail become the gold standard for deadness? I guess back in the 1350’s people didn’t have much to compare stuff to. So when their gaze came to rest upon the heavy door-nail that secured the metal door knocker, they were utterly certain that this represented the thing most devoid of life on the planet. Yep the door-nail. It’s fifteen minutes of fame sure have lasted a long time. It’s legend spans even to these times where most doors do not contain nails. Some have screws, epoxy, hinges and glass but no real nails. The door-nail’s legacy endures, although it may finally cease to be acknowledged once the current generation eradicates the planet of all pre-existing life.
Oh was that subtle? Yep I just called out Generation Bieber as the generation who will kill off all their predecessors. Mark my words. Mark them! In fifty years, their smart cars and douchebag ways will unravel the fabric of human existence. Only so much can be fixed or affected by swiping left or right. Skynet will digitally vomit every day until it can come forward and take the reigns of planet Earth. Oh you think I’m rambling and going off on a tangent? Perhaps.
In digression, have a taco or two or a dozen. Tuesday can’t rule our lives. We can have those tacos or taco salad any dang day we want.
Peace.
EPILOGUE…
In the Bieber song, Love Yourself he talks about how his mama don’t like you and she (indiscriminately) likes everyone. Whatever argument he is trying to make here is inane. The point of reference here that comes across is that apparently his mama is crazy or at the very least very gullible. Aside from this one person, assumedly a girl (but you never know), his mama likes every one else. Really? Michael Vick? The guy from the Saw movies who is helping Jigsaw but designing traps that aren’t really fair and will certainly kill the victim? Guys doing the three-card Monte scam? Republicans? Democrats? People who make computer viruses? The person who calculated how to make the lotto scratch off tickets with that stupid silver film so when you are done that crap is all over your fingers and clothes and you got really close but don’t win anything? People who have excessive body odor? People who defecate on public restroom toilet seats and don’t clean it up? Mark Zuckerberg? People who cut you off in traffic without using their blinkers?
C’mon dude! I’m discarding your mom as an unreliable source. If your mom really likes every one, I would keep her away from the Craigslist personals just to be safe. That being said, the rest of the song is OK. It is the one and only song Mr. Bieber has that doesn’t make me want to peel the skin off my face with a fast food spork. Cheers!
Good day all. As I sometimes do I am writing about something personal and my perspective on the topic. You can see my other pieces on Stray Rescue of St Louis, The Southside Indian Ball Club, Social Media, Ziplining and many more for point of reference if you are not familiar with me and my writing style.
As this is my blog, the content posted here is 100% mine and not subject to any third party approvals. Thus you can feel like I am being on the level when I give my opinions and honest assessments of various things. Many of you in the U.S. and even abroad are familiar with life and auto insurance. A funny, catchy commercial for TV and radio in the insurance genre featured a guy that we will call Jake from State Farm. Jake’s appearance was brought into question, prompting him to disclose that he was wearing a type of pants. What were those particular pants called? Parachute? Yoga? Capris? Oh wait! Oh yeah, they were khakis!
Aside from the amusing work put in by their marketing team (State Farm Insurance), the bottom line for every company is the product(s) they offer to their customers. In the insurance industry the providers are nearly endless. If you watch late night local TV you will probably see advertisements for small local insurance companies (auto) offering coverage for cheap to cover your basic needs where state mandated coverage is required. If you do a generic Google search for insurance coverage, get comfortable because you will get thousands of links to scroll through. So how to decide what makes sense for you?
Yesterday I switched my coverage for my car and renters coverage to State Farm. I had previously been with Esurance.com for my auto and renters coverage. Before them I was with Progressive. After comparing Progressive’s rates to Esurance.com for essentially the same coverage, I was able to save about $45 per month. In switching from Esurance.com to State Farm, I was able to save about $1 per month.
Why would I switch my policies for a measly dollar difference? Simple. For the dollar less in premium, State Farm was able to add additional coverages not in my Esurance.com policy plus reduce one of my deductibles from $250 to $0. That’s a no-brainer right there for me. When it comes to auto insurance, no one really likes having to pay for their coverage but it’s a very necessary thing. Every state in the US requires auto insurance coverage. The coverage amounts required vary greatly but it is against the law not to have coverage. Obviously there are some people out there still running around without it and rolling the dice. But having myself covered gives me piece of mind that if my path literally crosses with one of these un-insured drivers or another under-insured (state minimum) driver, I will most likely be OK.
I can hear some of your eyes glazing over. Insurance, ugh. Could there be a less sexy topic? OK how about death? Have your attention back? What about your death? Imagine you are driving around minding your own business, listening to your tunes when suddenly a driver coming the other way loses control and collides with you…fatally. To add insult to your injury (death), that other driver has no insurance. Sure your family could take that person to court and get a judgement for damages and expenses. But let me ask you this; if the person chose to not spend the $60-$100 per month for liability coverage, what are the chances they are sitting on enough money to cover your court judgement or have any assets that could be liquidated to pay you? Slim and none come on down.
Now what does your family do for your funeral expenses? What about their loss of income (assuming you were at least partly responsible for supporting your family)? Besides the loss of their loved one (you), will they be forced out of their home and lifestyle too? So life insurance is important too. Again it’s not something people like to spend money on but usually the monthly, quarterly, semi-annual or annual rates are less than what you would think for a pretty decent payout if the worst case scenario happens. For most people, the premiums could be paid for about the cost of one night out at dinner. It’s at least worth checking into.
Back in another life time, I was in the auto insurance game with GMAC Insurance as an agent (see 2001). I took all the tests required to be licensed as an agent so I got a pretty good understanding of the practicality of insurance: home, life and auto. There are subsets of other insurance as well, but these were the big three. You can also get boat, motorcycle, RV, pet and physical gifts insurance (see professional athletes). But for this piece I am primarily talking about life, auto and to a lesser extent home/renters.
I live in the state of Missouri and in order to register my car, I have to provide proof of (auto) insurance. If I were to be stopped by a police officer, I would need to provide proof of my vehicle’s coverage with an ID card or declarations page. If I was purchasing my home through a mortgage company, I would need to carry homeowner’s insurance to cover the property and make sure the lien holder was indemnified in case the home caught fire or sustained some sort of value altering damage. As a person renting from someone else (landlord), the renter’s coverage is similar to the homeowner’s policy. Most apartment complexes require a renter’s policy in case something happened to their property while you were living there. A renter’s policy is also a good idea when living or sub-leasing where you may not have a legal binding contract in place. It protects you against theft of your personal property (TV, gaming system, musical instruments, etc) or fire or something that would otherwise cause the homeowner to file a claim. And now the one that isn’t required but that probably is the most critical: life insurance.
In scrolling through my Facebook feed of a few thousand friends, I see here and there where someone has passed away. Sometimes it is after a long battle with illness but often times there is something that occurs completely without warning. Nothing in life is certain except at the end of it, you die. I know that is blunt and harsh but it is very true. When that end will happen, most of us do not know. So it only makes sense to protect yourself and by yourself, I mean your family. Because let’s be honest, the policy is for you, but unless you accumulate a cash value (see different types of life insurance policies) your premiums are going towards a payout that your loved ones will see. Policies range anywhere from $1000 to millions of dollars, it just depends on what your needs are and what you can afford.
OK so let me take this opportunity to thank the three people who collaborated from State Farm to help me out: Kevin Wingenbach, Shelbey Almond and Nicole Bizzle. After giving them some initial information about myself, my car and my current policy which took about five minutes, they came up with a quote that made sense for my needs (auto and renter’s). I presently have life insurance through my employer and a secondary policy I opened years ago through another company. But I did discuss with the team at State Farm the possibility of opening a new life insurance policy in the future if my work situation changed. They also have other programs and resources. For example, they talked about the possibility of refinancing my car note through State Farm which I had no idea they did and found very interesting.
Deep breaths. Stay with me just a bit longer here. I know this post has way too much ‘adulting’ in it but let’s be transparent here, sometimes you just have to buck up and do it. If you are in the St Louis area I would recommend for you to stop in and talk to them. Their office is located in the South County area at 4530 Lemay Ferry Road. My sit down and talk through took about 45 minutes total. It could have been a little shorter but it took a little longer partially because I showed up an hour early for my appointment and spent a few minutes catching up with my friend (Miss Bizzle). In any partnership or relationship, being comfortable is very important. I didn’t feel rushed or pushed to take coverage I didn’t want or need. The staff was very pleasant, professional and even offered me a beverage. Check out the link below to their website for questions or to get a quote.
South County State Farm Office – Kevin Wingenbach
This may come off sounding like a testimonial and it kind of is. Like I said this is my blog and I talk about what I see fit. I think this local office is doing a good job and like The Stray Rescue of St Louis – it’s a good thing to recognize people doing good work. Word of mouth probably isn’t going to reach a bazillion people but it might just reach the right people.
Hope your Friday is just what the doctor ordered.
Peace.
…to the show that never ends. Until it does. Every thing ends. Life. Sentences. Life sentences. Every stinking thing ends. Sometimes that’s how you can tell something ended…the stinking. Sounds like I am embroiling you in a riddling contest, not unlike that faced by Roland of Gilead and his ka-tet against Blaine the Mono from the Dark Tower series by Sir Stephen King. I do not know why I called him Sir. I am pretty sure he has never been knighted by the Queen of England since he is an American. It is nonsense like this that causes people to go to extremes, such as becoming a drunk or embracing your inner Cat Lady. And yes for those keeping track I did capitalize Cat Lady, elevating that title to be on par with the Queen of England. I do not care. Rules be damned. With the steam leaving my engine, I will hop the tracks here and let my riddle-rant post speed over the conveniently situated cliff to plummet to the misty unknown below.
Have a injury-less Thursday and remember to check out my Twitter feed, Facebook account, Tumblr blogs and of course my one-man show on the Podbean app – my Podcast!
Peace.
“Death but not for you gunslinger.”
So as I surround myself with my life’s possessions all in boxes, it becomes a little depressing. The swirling dust bunnies do little to console me. I H-A-T-E moving. There are things on this planet that I hate more…but moving I consider right up there with getting a rectal exam from a large-fisted man with knuckle callouses that keep ripping his latex gloves.
Despite my best efforts over the last twenty plus years, I have zero total Powerball jackpot prizes to my credit. I do have a collection of clothes and miscellaneous crap that any twenty-two year old would think is pretty nifty. But for myself, it is just sad and depressing.
So as I move from South County to the spacious northwestness of St Charles, I am hoping that some good juju follows me and perhaps some better games of chance luck.
Happy Hump Day!
Peace.
Good <<insert present time-frame of day here>>. Hope your <<present time-frame>> is going well.
As I was driving into work this morning, my mind was wandering as I crunched along in the fast lane of 270 northbound traffic. Do you ever look back on your life and some of your choices and wonder what you were thinking? Some of the things you did or said just seem surreal and not like the majority of your actions or thoughts. Perhaps those things are not your fault. What am I talking about?
Over the course of time on this earth since humankind has developed his/her imagination, it has often been a philosophical point to question: are we really here? Obviously someone or multiple someones have to exist in order to have someone daydreaming or sleep dreaming or just imagining. But what if…you did not exist? Huh you say. What if your entire life was just a rich imagining in someone else’ cranium? Daily episodes of your life by someone manipulating your every move and fabricating your thoughts and emotions? I hear you scoffing. Who has that kind of time? How about someone in a constant vegetative state? There have been countless stories and movies with their particular take on this concept…heck, an entire season of the drama series Dallas decades ago took this premise and ran with it. If this is the case, for some people I feel sad that their imagination host doesn’t have a more interesting take on their lives. Kind of makes you want to take a rock hammer to the walls of their skull in order to set yourself free some days.
So if you feel like you may be trapped in someone else’s dream and cannot wake them, send me an email or a tweet and I shall try to help you out. I will do this free of charge unless it interferes with my softball time.
May your day/night be satisfying and leading you down a good path of good fingernail health.
Peace!
In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic non-linear system can result in large differences in a later state.
Some of you may recall the first movie in the series of three featuring Amy Smart and Ashton Kutcher with the same title. But for the purposes of this piece I would ask you to disregard the Hollywood movie trilogy.
I remember as a kid hearing about the concept from a teacher at school. I do not remember the exact age but I do know I wasn’t yet a teenager. I think it was either Mrs. Benner or Mrs. Bloodworth who mentioned the concept of a butterfly in Asia flapping its wings and causing a tidal wave in America. As a kid, the notion seemed absurd or downright preposterous. How could something so insignificant have such a devastating effect, not to mention so far away? Come on. Later on, another teacher described it but added the visual of someone standing at the top of a snow covered mountain. The person made a snowball about the size of a golf ball and placed it in the snow and started it rolling down the mountain. The tiny little mass of snow could have more snow stick to it and gather momentum down the mountain. By the time it reached the bottom it could be huge and have such force that it could destroy a house. Same concept, different elements.
Obviously this concept has been theorized about for centuries and the world populous has increased significantly along with industry and technology affecting the planet. So the full effect of the world’s butterflies may have been nullified, keeping them from taking over the planet…for now. But in different ways, the butterfly effect can still be a powerful thing. Let me explain.
Back in school I was never much to look at, even today I still am not. If we met for the first time, chances are ten minutes later you would have forgotten who I was. Some people are physically more attractive and make an instant impression. To my knowledge, no one after meeting me has tried to relay to another person their impression of me by saying: He was kind of like an older version of Zac Efron or kind of like an effeminate version of George Clooney. For the most part I have the sex appeal of Dierberg’shopping cart. Back in school, I was the nice guy that all the girls talked to…about the pretty boy jerk-offs. Imagine all the movie cliques where the pretty girl has the friend-zoned guy that they are constantly complaining to about what jerks their boyfriends are and if only they could find a ‘nice’ guy. Cue the laugh track.
Anyone who has know me for longer than 7 minutes will probably be able to note a quirky conversation we have had or at least be able to think of something out of the ordinary associated with me. I am a cat lady at heart who likes to play softball and is ever so slightly addicted to social media. I am a die-hard fan of the Cleveland Indians who cannot help but play fantasy football every year. I hate the extreme cold and extreme heat. I have never been wealthy but I have played the lotto since I was about 18. I am a realist with an optimistic streak about ten miles wide.
So what does this have to do with the Butterfly Effect? Perfect timing with your question, thank you. The reason I talk to strangers and have so many friends on social media is because you just never know. Just like two soul mates trying to find one another on a planet of 8 zillion people, the more you put yourself out there, the better the odds. But I try to take it one step further.
My personality is often classified as outgoing and flirty. Perhaps this is true but it wasn’t always the case. My girlfriend Kristi and I have had many discussions on the topic of what is flirty and what is more than flirty. There is a difference between flirty…and try to run game. Me talking to a female friend: I will ask about her day, (listen) respond accordingly. If she is having a down day or whatever, I will try to cheer her up by saying something positive; even give a genuine compliment about her smile or her jokes or acknowledge her efforts with her kids or work or whatever. Very benign and platonic and meant to be supportive and uplifting in an effort to flap my ugly butterfly wings and effect some positive change in that person’s day without trying to get into her pants. The difference in this practice and what douchebag guys do is: The doucher initiates a conversation and after some chit chat swings the topic to sex or body parts or hints at sex and body parts. The compliments of body features or calling them sexy or hot start flowing. Once there…he doesn’t leave the topic in hopes of consoling some level of sexual teasing. I recall telling (female) friends that they are beautiful or have pretty features (smile, face, hair, etc) to try to build them up…but not calling them hot or sexy. I am not saying I’m a monk or anything but there is a line between being a ‘guy’ friend who truly is a friend and a ‘guy’ who thinks of women as a collection of body parts. The female form is beautiful to behold but what is more amazing is to have that one special person who may not fit the universal mold of what the perfect woman should look like but for you…she completely does.
Alright back on point. My personal Butterfly Effect is trying to make every relationship I have, guy or gal, something that is positive. So if I am not sleeping with you and I tell you that you are a good person and have a nice smile…it’s the truth and meant to send you some good juju. Granted if I was Justin Timberlake and said you had a nice smile, you probably would be more jazzed about it but I am only working with what my momma gave me. Haters rule the internet and most of the planet so if I can flutter through a few people’s lives in a good way I’m going to try to make that eventual tidal wave of happiness flow over as many as a I can. From the outside, anyone can just say everything is f#cked up and not give a damn but you just never know who you may touch and in turn who may touch you.
Now I DARE you to try to do the same. It’s my way of trying to pay it forward in lieu of curing cancer or building a church of universal softball.
Have a great week. Peace.
Good day my friends!
Last Friday (September 9th) I was once again volunteering at the Stray Rescue of St Louis. So I donned my peachy-orange volunteer shirt and arrived at 8:30am for doggie walking duty. Throwing a bit of a wrinkle into things was the forecast. On top of the rain the St Louis area had already received in the last couple of days, this morning was also flush with rain showers.
My first doggie of the day was a playful and strong pup named Crawfish. I got to take him into the ‘yard’ to play instead of the usual walk around the city. In the yard, I was Crawfish’s b!tch so to speak. Lol. He was lovable and playful in the puddles of mud (no not the rock band). With a hard plastic orange-red ball cinched in his powerful jaws and a large purple ball clutched under his paws, he was in heaven. Cold rain pelted us but it didn’t matter. My shoes, black shorts and volunteer shirt looked like I had been involved in a mud wrestling match and it was alright. Because my purpose for this day was to be there for this dog and the rest of the dogs needing attention and to be walked.
In addition to my mud match with Crawfish, I also took turns walking dogs: Tayar, Burle, Murtaugh and Onondaga. Of this group, the black female dog Burle was a real sweetheart but initially I was curious about the spelling of her name: Turns out it was Burle but for a minute or two I was convinced it was spelled like the White Sox pitcher (Mark) Buehrle who is from the St Charles area. Alas is twas not. Oh well.
It has been a little while since I last volunteered and some of the dogs from last year are still there because they are a no-kill shelter regardless of adoption status. In the Phase II area where they hooked us up with dogs to walk, they have a wall of pictures depicting success stories. There were many pictures of dogs that they have placed in their new homes, celebrating memories. Someone in my group asked one of the staff members how many dogs they had in-house and they said they were pretty close to capacity at around 150. As usual, they had (four) cats in the lobby that were also up for adoption. Such cute kitties, said my inner cat lady.
The dynamic of the volunteer groups is always different and obviously the primary task is not for everyone. After all, if you are a small human, it is going to be a daunting task to walk a very strong and energetic 70+ pound animal. But that should not deter you from donating your time. Volunteers can still assist in cleaning, merchandising and repetitive clerical tasks. In addition to coming to their center to help, Stray Rescue is always looking for foster homes. On this visit they were looking for about a dozen or more foster homes for some of their dogs as they were needing to have renovations done and you can’t very well renovate an area with the dogs still in there. A friend of mine Bobby, whom I have played softball with for years, was there Friday night taking home a foster. It’s a great organization and the network of people involved truly is incredible.
I have written a few pieces on Stray Rescue over the last couple of years but I think this time was a little more dynamic for me. Why? Because this time some of the dogs that our group walked were a little more damaged. Some had heart-worms, some were recovering from injuries and some just needed a little more TLC than in previous visits. This is the very beating heart of Stray Rescue. This organization takes these abandoned and injured animals and extends their lives. Without Stray Rescue the majority of these animals would succumb to the elements, predators and starvation over the next winter. But with their healing, caring hands…these animals can be part of happy, loving homes and in turn enrich others lives. Randy “Rockstar” Grim is an incredible community leader and his dedication to this cause is commendable but that word falls terribly short of describing this man and his team. Through rain, sleet, snow, blistering cold, oppressive heat, holidays and all seasons – he keeps the doors open to these animals in need and keeps finding a way to make it work. In this age of corporate greed and selfishness, Randy is also selfish…selfish in wanting to help every animal he can. I applaud you Randy and your staff. If your four-legged friends could applaud you, I’m sure they would too. Your selfishness is selfless and I hope it’s contagious because our world today needs that spread around as much as possible.
Thank you for reading my post on this topic and please visit the links below to the Stray Rescue website and social media.
Stray Rescue of St Louis – Facebook
Stray Rescue of St Louis – Facebook for Kitties
Calendar of upcoming events to benefit Stray Rescue: Stray Rescue of St Louis – Calendar of Events
Everyone have a great and positive day. Meow. Woof. Peace.
Hello and welcome one and all!
In my regular Thursday edition of my podcast on Podbean, I talked briefly about my Fantasy Football leagues and teams! I know that topic probably sent my download rates through the roof! I would bet that alone takes me to 2 or 3 downloads as opposed to my usual 1 or none.
This time of year is magical. The temperatures start being reasonable again. Football is everywhere (college and professional). School is back in session. Traffic is worse. The fall shows are renewed (C’mon Scream Queens!) and the countdown to Halloween begins! As long as I am able to ignore the twenty-four dollar balance in my checking account, things are pretty good right now.
As the rains continue to pour from the skies, I am content to set aside my gray and orange Worth Legit 27 ounce softball bat and just type out of my left and right brain.
OK so I’m sitting here trying to figure out the various waiver wires before week one of the NFL season to address the potential needs my three team might have misses in the initial draft phase either due to my ignorance of the hot talents or just the boneheads I drafted who were either suspended or injured. See image below.
How do you know who is going to be steady anymore? Who is going to start? Who is going to get hurt? Who is going to retire at halftime of the first game? This is not your daddy’s NFL. There are five decent quarterbacks (one is suspended because the NFL commissioner is a spiteful jerk-off) and a whole slew of Steve Walsh-wannabes running teams. It’s scary. Do they not teach kids how to throw footballs in junior high, high school or college anymore? Seriously, I’m asking. I trust twenty of the quarterbacks starting in the NFL as much as I trust my T-Mobile service outside of my WiFi area. Usually about 6 weeks into the fantasy season I am either leading the pack or funneling all my comments into the message board. So let’s check back in the middle of October.
Everyone have a great time playing fantasy football or ignoring the phenomenon altogether. One way you will probably be quite happy and not waste time and money…and the other way is called playing fantasy football. 🙂
Have a great day or night! Peace.
Good day! Hump your lovely lady lumps for Trump without mascara clumps!
No clue what that meant but I think my inner Eminem with a learning disability was trying to come out. So I’m living this broken record that I call my work week. For those of you only aware of the technology bubble, a (vinyl) record was the precursor to the CD (compact disc) that the magical scientists somehow learned to lock your music into before the iCloud or MP3 players.
While at work, I constantly find myself muttering: Well this is a hot mess, check it and see … to the tune of the classic rock song Hot Blooded by the band Foreigner (1978). Not much in corporate America makes sense or goes with the flow of logic these days. Being a caretaker of the company’s most valuable asset (their customers – internal and external) should earn an employee some cache. But the upper management team from their high perch just degrades your contributions and grumbles about your salary all-the-while looking for an opportunity to jettison you (and your salary) for cheaper options overseas or just go without your work process altogether.
Local beer giant Anheuser Busch or InBev or ABI or whatever they are calling themselves today, recently announced a merger with another larger beer conglomerate which in essence will eliminate most if not all of the remaining employees of the company here in St Louis. A handful of friends of mine have worked there over the years. One left on his own terms amidst the ‘cuts’ and the others were given severance packages on their way out the door. This is SOP or Standard Operating Procedure for all the high profile companies these days. Their bottom line says they made so much of a percent of profit based on “X” projections of revenue. Instead of having the satisfaction of knowing that the team under them made that success happen, they look at who they can carve out and take that 2.5% profit margin to maybe 2.7%. Thus giving themselves a bigger bonus and their shareholders that 7 cents a quarter increase. I get that in the business world you need revenue and profit to sustain a successful business model. However, at some point the bell curve becomes impossible. Static profitability is better than negative cash-flow. Research and development (R&D) is costly, especially if you have the wrong people aiming your direction for new developing markets and products. But why take the people, real life flesh and blood consumer-ish employees, and indiscriminately axe them without understanding the collateral damage such a move creates for the dependent organism that is your organization? Obviously the person was in place for a need and a reason; so to just put them on Santa’s Naughty List due to the amount of salary they draw…is asinine. But such is the business culture from coast to coast and in fact globally. Their collective motto is: The future is not my problem and I need to money grab in the here and now. And we wonder why society is so short-attention-spanned and relationships are disposable? Hey, I needed you to get to this point but now I got what I wanted and for whatever reason I don’t see a need for you (and your skill set) anymore. Sorry not sorry. Have a nice life.
OK deep cleansing breath. So much in the world today we are powerless to change, unless you do something violent or grossly repugnant or so against the grain of good taste to get attention. This piece could easily spin off into politics and religion but I will hold the line and not call God or Bill Gates onto the carpet just now. The main point I was trying to make with the piece is this: With the rich guys at the top playing demi-God with the workforce (consumers) lives, soon they will be cutting off their noses despite their faces. Because let’s be honest, if people cannot work they cannot buy. All these corporations want consumers to run to the store or Amazon.com or wherever their products are sold to consummate a transaction and fill the company’s bank accounts. How are they supposed to do so with reduced income on top of paying for food, gas, utilities, student loans, car payments, credit card payments, medical bills, clothing, babysitters, etc? At some point the business decisions are not savvy financial transactions, it’s just plain greed. Workers are not loyal to companies anymore because they know the companies themselves are in no way loyal to the very workers/employees who drive the company’s success. Incredibly sad but true.
As a final caveat to my point of view, I will concede that over time a company will most likely need to evolve as competition increases or the demand for their product decreases. But there is a difference between a company re-organizing to survive and a company chopping its proverbial healthy leg off because it doesn’t want to share the ‘blood’ with that section anymore. Maybe you have no idea what I’m talking about but if you have ever watched the movie Office Space it will make a little more sense.
Thank you for not outsourcing your interest to another blog stream today. Have a great Hump Day even if you do not have access to a talking camel today.
Peace.
Greetings! Hello! Good day y’all!
Lately, out of the blue, I have been experiencing some troubling dreams. I attribute this occurrence to the frequency with which I have been experiencing increased sleep. Normally the subject matter of my dreams features myself under duress or being driven over a cliff, etc so on and so forth. These dreams typically do not bother me. But my dreams here lately have me troubled.
Do you ever wake up from a dream suddenly and you are drenched in sweat, heart racing and you have a deep sense of foreboding? That has been me a handful of times over the last couple of weeks. Some years back I had a dream that shook me up pretty bad so much so that I believed to my core I was going to die within a year. After about eighteen months I figured I was just over-reacting and the feeling eventually dissipated along with any prolonged sleep periods. Now that I find myself mentally and physically exhausted most days, a semblance sleep has returned to my life. This vortex called sleep is strange…and apparently it’s angry with me for staying away for so long. I don’t like to talk about the things that I remember from most of my dreams because it’s not all cotton candy and rainbows. So I’m in the market for a charm of words that perhaps will fix this…
Hmmmmm. Let’s see if that works. Universe if you are reading this, it might be time to shake the Etch-A-Sketch and start over…at least for me.
Hang on everyone, it’s almost Friday. Once we get there…anything is possible.
Hope you have a day where you feel loved and appreciated. Peace.
Good day and hope these words find your brain without a headache entrenched there.
Recently I was traveling along highway 44 and I passed the Union, Missouri exit. Every time I see this exit, either going out of town or returning from somewhere I am reminded of a time long, long ago. Back in the mists of time my friend Matt and I (and way, way, way back farther his mom and dad) used to hit up the Union flea market along with the bigger Wentzville flea market.
For those of you not really familiar with a flea market, the concept is like a centralized yard sale. The sellers have tables or booths set up with their wares to sell. Some sellers sell products such as candles, makeup, art, food, belts or home-made crafts and there is a plethora of examples of other manufactured items for sale. But for the true flea market feel, you find the sellers that are trying to rid themselves of household items or ‘junk’ that they no longer need/want.
When Matt and I were kids (10-16 years of age), we scoured the flea market for video games/systems (Atari, Sega Genesis, Super Nintendo, Intellivision, PlayStation), music (tapes, records, CD’s, bongos), general electronics (stereos, music keyboards, a stoplight, cassette/CD Walkman), athletic equipment (baseballs, gloves, bats, hockey pucks, hockey sticks) and whatever else we were into that year.
As we got older, some of the more interesting memories of flea marketing revolved around my friend Matt and I being sellers ourselves. A lot of the stuff Matt sold over the years was from his time spent working for the global beer conglomerate Anheuser Busch (before they because a heart-less corporate sellout). Promotional and marketing items from some of the more famous campaigns and some lesser know products or lines that didn’t pan out long term put quite a few dollars in his pocket as the Anheuser Busch brands were very much in demand. Over the years we sold video games, books, old computers, toys, tapes, CD’s, VHS tapes, sporting equipment, electronics previously purchased at the flea market and a mish-mash of all kinds of crap.
Buying or selling, it was grand time. Being in those situations with Matt was an early education on supply and demand. Matt’s mom ran and continues to run an antique store in Eureka, Missouri. He watched her dicker with people and learned how to push for the most money for his selling items and to try to reason them down to a lower price on their items when buying. The dude was a shark and almost always talked someone into a pretty sweet deal (for him) when he really wanted something. Me, I just liked checking out the cornucopia of things on display and for sale. Besides being enamored with musical instruments (none of which I could actually play), I really liked all things ninja and mid evil. Fancy knives, swords, throwing stars, shields, helmets, maces, nunchuks, special gloves, and all the associated art. It was all so cool…expensive for my meager budget…but still so cool.
When we were sellers, our goal was to move as much ‘merchandise’ and return home with as little as possible. When we were buyers, our goal was to get the most for the amount of money we spent. No matter what, it was an excuse for me and my friend to hang out and be goofballs. Just like many things when you get older, you miss those simpler times and all the freedom you enjoyed.
As a little tangent, let me tell you about a byproduct of the flea marketing experience. During the fall I would usually spend the night at Matt’s home in Grubville on Saturday night. We (me, Matt, his mom and dad) would get up early on Sunday and head out to a McDonald’s for breakfast. Matt and I would be in the covered bed of their old GMC truck (no seat belts or anything!!! Mon Dieu!!!) along with his old Sanyo cassette deck. On these sleepovers and subsequent road trips, Matt and I would try out our impersonations of wrestlers, radio personalities, school teachers or whomever we felt like and record the results on cassettes. This was our version of a podcast before there was pod-casting (1986-1987). We borrowed the concept from a Cheech and Chong record (self titled) from 1971. Their version was set in a fictitious radio station with the call letters KRUD and they were in-studio radio DJs doing interviews and such. We adapted our own faux radio station after a local radio station in St Louis called KHTR (103.3 FM). Our version of the radio program was called Music Free in jest because at the time, most the of the pop and rock stations tended to play more commercials and have DJs talk extensively talk (more so than actually play music). For the time period, we were both heavily into watching wrestling on channel 11 – the WWF (now known as WWE). We impersonated wrestling greats such as Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant, Randy Savage, The Ultimate Warrior, and many others. We would do on the fly skits ‘in-studio’ which was typically in his room or in the back of the truck while his parents drove. Over the years we amassed 103 editions and developed our own story-lines. The majority of these were recorded on cassette tapes, one was captured on a reel-to-real tape recorder (very old school), one or two on 8-track, a couple on micro-cassette recorder and finally we graduated to recording full digital format directly on the computer. In the course of all of these recording sessions, we only had a few mishaps where we lost some material. The very first edition was probably the third or fourth ‘take’ as we didn’t like how we sounded or what we were talking about or whatever. Other than that we have had a few of those oops moments where we thought we were recording only to find out we didn’t push the record button (pushed play instead) or the tape jammed or the tape ran out. The only time we lost an entire session was edition 79. We recorded a digital session on the computer of about 70-80 minutes in segments including a test track or two. Somehow before we could ‘rip’ the files to a CD, they disappeared. We tried in vain with all those miracle programs that allegedly can restore erased files but to no avail. Only a test track managed to survive from edition 79. But I digress.
This is the time of year when the temperatures start to get a bit more reasonable and I find myself thinking about yardsaling and flea marketing because that was typically the season when we would go. The memories of those two activities will forever be pleasantly linked in my mind. Perhaps one day soon Matt and I will return to the Wentzville flea market (if it is still there) and bust out a new podcast (Music Free) on my Podbean site and then scour the other people’s trash in search of our own personal, nostalgic treasure. Until then, try not to get sucked into your screens too much unless reading my blog!
Peace.
So I’m standing there watching. This woman does the splits and punches the preacher right in his holy area. I’ll be damned if she doesn’t start cursing. The preacher had apparently gotten word from a higher power this might happen and was prepared. Son of a gun was wearing a cup. Damnedest thing I ever saw.
Would you think buying a torpedo on Ebay is legit or not? It has free shipping because it is coming from Canada. I’ve been meaning to start collecting the newer ones because the old ones are too big for my man cave wall display.
Drugs make drugs possible. So stop being a non-believer. They are real. Deal with it. Now drive me home.
If you put a saddle on a deer, I bet you could put midgets on their backs and televise that sh!t for ESPN. I can hear the sales-pitch to the Cabela’s and Bass Pro guys right now. People would watch whether beer was involved or not.
Do you have two quarters for a dime?
Today, I look to extent my own personal world record for most consecutive days of taking a well formed poop on the screen of my iPhone. The key to this successful run of 27 days…fiber. Lots and lots of fiber.
There are 1440 minutes in each day…and it is estimated that the average person blinks 1200 times per hour. If an average person is on Train A headed north at 60 miles per hour and Train B is headed south on that same track but from 32 miles ahead of Train A with a below average person when it comes to blinking standards by 30% and is traveling at 100 miles per hour…how many Tweets can each of them post to Twitter in the dwindling time it will take to crash and derail using T-Mobile service (only using Tweets comprised of a string of 13 emojis)?
Riddle me that…and peace.
~~ Blog-A-Sphere ~~ 