Rest in Peace

Alas, we present a eulogy for another business billed as a “sporting goods store.”  This time the store in question is Sports Authority.

Firstly, this joint was mislabeled as a sporting goods store.

A sporting goods store should sell and/or service goods related to sports.  The Sports Authority does neither.

I visited a Sports Authority shop in January 2016.  I was the only customer in the building.

My quest was for fishing rod eyes that needed to be replaced on one of my salt water rods.

At the "fishing department," there were five rods in a display, a glass case containing ten reels, and roughly 30 rubber baits hanging on the wall.

There were no eyes, no bait buckets, and no nets.  They did have a few cheesy hats, though.

Not to waste a trip, I searched for the hunting department.  There was none.  No bows, no arrows, no guns, no ammunition, no knives, and no need to keep that store open.

On the other hand, there were plenty of sneakers, shorts, and t-shirts.  Sweat pants and sneakers, and sweat shirts and sneakers.  Did I mention there were tons of sneakers?

Baseball gloves, balls, and bats were available, too.  It’s been a long time since I played baseball, so I was astonished to see the price of a baseball bat set at $39.95.  Apparently Alex Rodriguez shopped there.

Perhaps they would have more business if they renamed the store Sneakers and Overpriced Bats Authority.

By the way, Gander Mountain should take notes.

Pull My Finger

For some years now we have been hearing about the benefits of fiber.  Advertisers use words like “regular,” and “healthy.”  Those are code words.

In case you don’t use fiber, regular and healthy mean you’ll be in the bathroom quite often.  Regular describes the trips you’ll make – roughly every 1 ½ hours, and healthy means you will be sitting most of the day.  This is known as the laws of unintended consequences.  Or maybe not.  But, I digress.

A code word I now need to use is “offensive.”  That word describes the environment during, and immediately after, your visit to the porcelain convenience.

We have a spray ready and waiting for such emergencies.  But because I don’t do a lot of the grocery shopping that spray is marginal.

The aerosol can I picked up was labeled “fresh linen.”  Upon spraying, I realized that fresh linen smelled like nothing I had ever smelled before, and it was nearly ineffective.  Its weak aromatic properties force me to apply the fresh linen air neutralizer to the walls in the form of spray paint.

Finally being able to open the door, both my sainted wife and Smokey the cat became weak and were on the verge of fainting.

A new solution was in order.

This time I was going to make the selection from the air freshener department at my local supermarket.  There, I discovered why we had fresh linen flavor available on the toilet tank.

I came across such aerosols as “cashmere woods,” “summer rain,” and “Hawaiian breeze.”  None of those appealed to my thought association senses so I decided to try them out.

Hawaiian breeze smelled like pineapples with a touch of lime and mango, summer rain reminded me of a wet shower stall, while cashmere woods harkened me to damp sawdust in my workshop.

I opted for “pine vistas” which was the last air freshener I was allowed to spray before the store manager suggested it was time for me to leave his hoity-toity establishment.

Evidently this assortment of sprays was melding together to create an airborne ocean of smells that, when combined, resembled following a garbage truck.

The pine vistas odor eliminator was working well until my sainted wife complained it too closely resembled a Christmas tree.  I never knew her to be anti-fir, but you never really know someone.

On the other hand, Smokey enjoys anything better than unadulterated fiber results.  He’s even using it for his litter box, now.

Barbie

Just when I thought I had seen it all, I stand corrected.

Checking out the news the other day I noticed Mattel was introducing a new Barbie doll.  That in and of itself would not be anything exciting but, this is a new century with exciting changes.

Let’s begin with Barbie’s real name, Barbara Millicent Roberts.  No lie.

She was created in 1959, in time for my sister to get more than one Barbie doll during her childhood.  Christmas, birthdays, Easter, and practically any other time a gift was involved, so was a new Barbie doll.

Not without controversy, Barbie was created in a less than fact-based frame.  Yes, the world’s buttinski’s became involved because of her slim waist line and overly accentuated other features.  They were panned as unrealistic although none of the little girls playing with them noticed.

This was so troubling that a Barbie play bathroom scale was added in one of her dream houses.  It was permanently set at 110 pounds.  Evidently this was to appease people without lives.

Barbie eventually found a boyfriend in a fellow named Kenneth Carson, aka. Ken.  It seems as though Barbie and Ken have had an on-again, off-again relationship for decades leaving not one wrinkle on either of these lovers.

But political correctness joined Barbie in form of Colored Francie.  Again, controversy arose because there were no other real problems in 1967.

Apparently the doll Gestapo, upon close examination, realized Francie was made from the same mold as Barbie, only with a brown pigment added.  The lack of minority features to include less Caucasian features upset many making Colored Francie’s debut less successful than hoped for.

Meanwhile, Barbie accessories could be had for the beach, snow skiing, hiking, and even books for reading.  She was living large with her many dream houses and vehicles to include Corvettes, Jeeps, and even a trailer.  Perhaps that was for an upcoming Trailer Trash Barbie.

Speaking of which, a Barbie was issued with stick-on tattoos, including one for her lower back, known as a “tramp stamp.”  Let’s include everyone seems to be the theme here.

Because of the failure of Colored Francie, Mattel was determined to be all inclusive with their introduction of Oreo Fun Barbie.  Once again, the easily offended found trouble with the disturbing name.  No kidding.

Of course there were good things that came with owning Barbies.

My sister learned to sew by making outfits for Barbie, although her Barbie army always seemed to be naked.  I suppose she dressed them before they went out on the town to meet up with the rest of the crew.  There was Todd, Skipper, Stacie, and even Hispanic Teresa.

But now there is a new Barbie soon arriving for little girls – and boy, I guess – with which to play.

Evidently Mattel has given up on black versions of Barbie so “Hijarbie” is the latest of the Barbie group to hit the scene.  For real. 

Hijab-wearing Barbie is a Muslim doll that was created possibly to give the whiners of the doll world something about which to complain in the absence of race nitpicking.

Good luck with accessories for this doll.

Bravo Sierra

Last week I was desperately trying to communicate, via telephone, with someone just shy of being a

primate, with them horribly misspelling my name, even after having me spell it for them.

My first attempt resulted in something akin to a train hitting a deer.  Letters were read back to me everywhere and in no particular order.

Again I tried by speaking louder and slower, to no avail.

Suddenly, I remembered my NATO Phonetic Alphabet.  This was a sure-fire way to wade through the waters of stupid with no chance of error.

According to Wikipedia.org, the NATO Phonetic Alphabet (NPA) is officially known as the International Radiotelephony Spelling Alphabet.  This system is used to associate specific words to identify letters of the English alphabet so that critical combinations of letters can be pronounced and understood by those who transmit and receive messages by radio or telephone.

No chance for error in this premise.  This is where you’ve heard people say things like, “Uniform Sierra Alfa” for USA.  And yes, alfa is spelled correctly.

So I decided to implement the NPA to help expedite this goat rodeo.

Everything started off less than promising when the idiot to whom I was speaking began writing out the words for the letters.  Suddenly my name went from five letters to nearly 28.

I then tried to explain this exercise to the imbecile on the other end of the conversation.  “When I say ‘alfa,’ you write the letter ‘a’”.

“When I say ‘kilo,’ you write the letter ‘k’.  Got it?”

Their silence meant they were rolling their eyes at me and likely giving me the finger.  Nonetheless we were on our way to abbreviating this telephonic waterboarding.

The smell of success was in the air until I got to the “z” in my name.  This non-Mensa representative adlibbed by jumping ahead and inserting her own identifying word, “xylophone,” which was not even close.

“Zulu!” I shouted.

“What?  I thought you said ‘z’!” she retorted.

I did but, at this point it was akin to arguing with a cat.  She was no brighter after my call and she still had a job dealing with people who had little or no choice but deal with this embarrassment.  Her boss should be fired unless that person is even stupider than my point-of-contact.

In any case, there needs to be a thorough shake-up at the Social Security Administration.

Random Thoughts IV

It’s time for more random thoughts.  And, if you read the title as “Random Thoughts IV,” as in ‘intravenous,’ you are wrong.  Those are Roman numerals for “4,” indicating this is the fourth installment.  Sorry.

In any case, we have arrived at another juncture of examination of the junction where perception meets reality.

Grab a drink and read on.

• Are cops that stupid to think no one in their vicinity is video recording anything?
• Why does it always take AAA 2 ½ hours to arrive to your disabled car?
• How come hospitals – where drugs are plentiful – charge $50 for an aspirin?
• Do you need to sit in two different bath tubs to use Cialis®?
• I wish someone would crush that annoying insurance lizard.
• I don’t care if I have 22 items in the ’20 items or fewer’ aisle.  I’m a rebel!
• What sort of psychotropic drugs does The President use?
• I always get stuck behind the van full of amateur tourists.
• Every TV channel goes to a commercial break at the same time.
• Hillary Clinton doesn’t know the difference between a truth and a lie.
• Whatever happened to whitewall tires?
• And ashtrays in cars?
• Why do people still live in Detroit and Chicago?  You know the answer.
• It’s too bad Baptists aren’t as violent as Muslims.
• I’m still on the lookout for .22 cal ammo.
• Smokey the Cat is smarter than 37% of the voters.
• Don’t people own mirrors anymore?
• A funeral is not a place for that Metallica t-shirt.
• I still don’t have a tattoo.
• I still don’t want one.
• President Obama sold over 1,000,000 guns since he took office.
• Do they still make trash cans?  If so, stop throwing garbage on my lawn!
• Has John Kerry been institutionalized yet?
• You can register a SmartCar, but not a golf cart.  What’s the difference?
• How many terrorist attacks will it take before America stops smoking dope and closes the borders?
• Why is it okay to try to outlaw guns, but kill innocent babies?
• Did Michael Moore eat himself to death yet?
• Who is Whoopie Goldberg sleeping with to have a television job?
• Fireball liquor is very good, and very dangerous.
• I say we raise restaurant and bar prices and eliminate tipping.
• I should buy a gun to protect myself when the cops aren’t around.
• The AC Cobra is my favorite car.  Period.
• Tashfeen Malik needed to wear that rag over her face.  She’s wasn’t a good looking woman or man.
• Guns are not to blame for all the carnage; immorality and lack of God, is.
• I got a Social Security card when I was ten-years old.  Do you think I know where it is now?
• Doctors need to take a course in bedside manners.
• That thing on the end of the rifle barrel is a muzzle BRAKE, not a BREAK.  Please.
• Why do all my tree leaves all wind up in my gutters?
• I hope Smokey votes for Donald Trump.

Splish Splash

If you are a woman, or a man who is contemplating a sex change operation, you may stop reading and engage in something pertinent as this is not relevant to you.

I first saw these revolutionary devices on Assateague Island, Virginia, in the federal guvment park. 

This particular recreation area is set upon the marshes where native birds, lizards, turtles, deer, fox, and other fauna roam.  In fact, that is true because there are copious photos and drawings of these wild creatures hanging about the walls of this facility depicting such.

These critters, along with the associated flora need to be protected so there hung this device.

Now it was with great astonishment that I stumbled upon these nature saviors when I visited a Wal-Mart in Florida. 

My doctor figured I wasn’t taking nearly enough pills for a guy my age so he put me on a prescription of diuretics.  Those are pills designed to make one urinate – whether you want to or not.  But I digress.

In any case, with my diuretic working as advertised, I visited the men’s room at the Assateague recreation area.  There was my first encounter with this special urinal; a waterfree urinal.  It didn’t use water hence, the moniker “waterfree.”

Sloan urinal

Proudly stamped thereon was the name, Sloan.  Above this urinal was a metal plaque describing the operation of this waterless urinal, along with a self-applied backrub authored by Sloan.

But it wasn’t until after visiting the Florida Wal-Mart that I simply had to check out the Sloan website for some real information.  Below are the words found thereon:

“The wall-hung Sloan WES-1000 Waterfree Urinal provides a sustainable design option – conserving water as well as energy by eliminating the need to treat water and expend energy, while reducing carbon dioxide emissions. Waterfree Urinals do not use water...saving that precious resource as well as sewage and water supply line costs; reducing maintenance and repair bills; and creating hygienic, odor-free restrooms.”

By reading this description one would think this urinal would already be mandated for home toilet replacement by the guvment weenies.  “Water conserving,” “carbon dioxide emissions” friendly, “hygienic,” and “odor-free.”  What more could you ask for?

From personal experience I’d say they’re not really hygienic or odor-free.  Stevie Wonder could find one of these with his olfactory senses alone.  I did.  And, upon use, this miracle toilet began backing-up.

Not being a plumber, it was difficult for me to diagnose this apparent problem.  I say it was a problem because there was no mention of this added regurgitation feature on Sloan’s website.

Still, if we can – as a dying planet – buy a few more precious seconds of life by peeing in a pool of stranger’s splashing bodily fluids, it is worth it.

Along those lines I suggest we save money and simply use coffee cans as toilets.

Mission Accomplished

February is Black History Month, and we recently celebrated Martin Luther King Day, a national holiday designed to honor its namesake, the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Just for the youngsters, Dr. King was a non-violent protester who helped lead rallies and protests in order to help achieve equality through a “colorblind” society.  His dream was for a society in which people would be judged on the content of their character rather than their skin color.

Along the way many Americans have proven to be eager to attain those same goals of peace and love and unity.

Blacks traditionally marched through the streets of South Carolina on MLK Day each year to have the offensive Confederate flag removed to alleviate pent-up pain from the Civil War.

Over the last several years we were torn by another campaign to stop the use of “the ‘N’ word.”  This word is so offensive that it can’t even be uttered.  However, if you are black, you are free to use it with impunity.

If challenged over its use, blacks simply explain how non-blacks would not understand the pain it inflicts, recalling the days of slavery from pre-1870 time.

In fact, even the mention of slavery is becoming more offensive by the minute.  It seems that the word “slavery” has been documented to cause apoplexy in the overly-tender sensibilities of the African-American community, and pandering politicians.

This is purely symbolic, similar to the use of the phrase “slaving away” to describe over-working, or “slave driver” to describe a mean, overly enthusiastic boss.  Those phrases are verboten in public, and viewed as insensitive by those easily offended in today’s society.

To preclude any further animosity, pain, and suffering from the use and/or recollection of American history concerning blacks and their unique culture, ardent efforts have been made to better help us creep closer to Dr. King’s goal of colorblindness.

Following a June 2015 shooting of a traditionally black church in South Carolina by a white man, calls were made to remove all evidence to the Confederate flag, once and for all.

Later that year, the South Carolina governor agreed this erasure of history was appropriate, and officially ordered the prohibition of the display of this banner on public property.  Success achieved.

But on MLK Day, the throngs of marchers normally protesting the South Carolina flag are now without a cause.  I realize tradition begins somewhere; I guess it also ends somewhere, too.

And on the fifteenth of January 2016, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, announced its latest round of nominees for honoring cinematic achievements.

Excluded from this prestigious list of nominations was any reference to black actors, black actresses, or black subject matter.  This, too, has caused a surprising kerfuffle among cinema-industry blacks.

It seems as though there is one notable black film entitled “Straight Outta Compton.”  The gist of this film is the birth and growth of the hip hop movement in Compton, California.

For music novices, this featured group is named NWA.  The WA part is an abbreviation of ‘with attitudes.’  The N part is the oh so-offensive “N-word.”

Racist director Spike Lee, and overly thin-skinned Jada Pinckett Smith, publicly announced their displeasure at the racial imbalance of the nominees.  No word yet on their feelings of the racial disparity within the National Basketball Association and the National Football League.

Although I haven’t seen this cinematic masterpiece I surmise this movie is laden with liberally salted use of the N-word.  I can only hope was stopped by the Oscar’s folks the instant the first time it was spoken.

Congratulations!  Mission accomplished.