The High Cost of the End

Okay, so if the end is nigh and all that, can someone explain the economics of the thing to me? I’m already staggered by the fact that the “end of the world” peeps were able to get a short term lease on the billboard. I mean, in outdoor advertising I thought you needed at least a year-long commitment.

Actually, that’s a funny thought. Can you imagine the negotiations? The guy renting the billboard is like “Oh yeah, I’ll totally pay you in full in June. No problem.” It’s like Wimpy on Popeye: “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.”

“I’ll gladly pay you after the rapture for a world is ending billboard today.”

Come June they’ll be pulling all the lint out of their pockets: “Ooooh, my bad. I really thought it was ending this time. Turns out we just needed a good colon cleanse. The rapture ain’t coming for years.”

The End is Nigh

Did you know the world is ending? Yup. Sometime in May. I know this because I saw it on a billboard. You may think I would have paid close attention and taken the date down…need I remind you I am a VERY safe driver? I don’t get distracted by things like cell phone calls and texts. Not even the imminent end forecast on a larger than life billboard takes my attention off the road.

Am I surprised? Not really. I’m starting to see that this was all predicted by the coming of the lard-butts and the rise of Walmartistan culture. Let’s face it, the best appetite suppressants are not at the forefront of the mind when the end is right over the horizon line. Why not chow down and bulk up because I don’t think they have high fructose corn syrup in heaven. Unless you eat the cheap generic store-bought brand of manna.

It’s Snow Joke

We had a massive snow storm last week and I had to shovel out my driveway. Twice. Once at night and once in the morning. See, my snow blower kept stalling out, and I had no choice. Our driveway is like 100 feet long with a pretty big area by the two garages, so…that pretty much sucked. The snowblower, meanwhile, is at a repair place, probably in need of a new carburetor. No big deal, but we got slammed with another two feet of snow a couple days ago. 3 hours of shovelling and a broken back later, I was ready to start looking at Duck vacation rentals. Maybe for the duration.

Then I took a moment to watch the news (something I usually avoid if possible to keep my blood pressure down) and found that several of our southern states also got snow. So, maybe the Carolinas are not so much the place to be after all. Especially after talking to a friend and coworker in Virginia who had a great story about being snowed in for a weekend by about 6 inches of snow because nobody had a shovel. Nobody even had a scraper for their car down there, so…yeah, roughing it.

On the shovel thing I had to be understanding, though. I mean, it’s not like I have a surfboard and a ton of beach gear in my garage, so…

Rollin’ Rollin’ Rollin’

I’ve got to get off the Chuck E. theme. It’s just Chuck E.-ing my good nature right out the window. So, what about the bowling party? Glad you asked. Certainly, bowling was so much kinder than…that other place. The kids were generally more subdued and in line. They also had pizza and cake, and they also had the opportunity to play some arcade games if they so chose.

I actually spent most of the party in the car. See, the baby hadn’t napped all day and she fell asleep on the way over. It was actually planned that way. I brought some comics and I had my phone so I was good for awhile. When I finished two old Phantom double issues and the New York Four trade, though, it was time to wake her up and head inside. I had to shake the car a little bit to rouse her. It’s much better if she thinks she’s waking up naturally as opposed to being yoinked out of a sound nap.

And maybe if I wasn’t dying of thirst and needing to pee and noticing that cars noticeably lack kitchen sinks and urinals…maybe then she would have napped even longer.

The frustrating part is that she is such a poor napper. She only takes a good one in the unlikeliest of places, the unlikeliest of situations. Sigh. At least now I know, though, that if I really need her to take a nap I just need to head over to the bowling alley parking lot with some reading material.

And maybe a bottle of water and a pee jug.

Santa 2.0

You know the Santa I took the kids to see, the one I was just telling youabout? He had all the cool gadgets. He was really running an elf free shop. Is this just a sign of a new, improved, more tech-saavy Santa? Or is it just another layer of impact caused by the current recession? I don’t know, but if unemployment lines are clogged with elves, I guess we’ll have to start pointing fingers somewhere.

Maybe the television newsmedia can help us identify the villian…or grinch…in this situation. Surely the fault lies squarely on the shoulders of the Internet. After all, TV douche bags have been demonizing the Internet for more than a decade.

Quote the Lauer (in my little fantasy here): Santa’s elf ranks are depleted…but why? Could it be the proliferation of online offers with free shipping? Could it be the incredible attraction of shopping for gifst without smelling, hearing, or being bumped into by all of fleshy humanity? Is it the fact that there are Amazon grill tools and Redenvelope.com cuff links and customized Dell laptops only a click away?

Maybe I’m stretching here.

Joy Joy Joy Joy Down in My Heart

Down in my heart indeed. The season is upon us, and the American consumer is full of its spirit. Try shopping…anywhere at anytime for anything. You’ll encounter the true spirit of the holiday season in the hearts, souls and actions of your fellow citizens. Enjoy jousting for parking spots. Thrill to the race to the next open cashier. And if you’re lucky like me maybe you’ll encounter one of those particularly delightful souls who wants to browse the spot where you’re standing with your three kids.

It happened to me the other day. It seemed that wherever I went there was this one chunky woman who wanted to be shopping where I was. Modern office furniture, cheese popcorn, action figures…it didn’t matter. It was like she was following us. And every time she did the same thing: she pointed her cart at us and waited with a nasty expression. Talk about passive aggressive. And its only just beginning.

Damn.

Big Furry American Cars

I took the kids to the Mall to do a little shopping for Christmas. We were looking for something for their Mom. While we were there we saw one of the great creatures of the holidays, out of her cave for some shopping. She was around 70, draped in fur, desperate for a weight loss affiliate program, and she cut us on line. Yup. I was the guy with a cart, two boys and a baby in my arms, but she needed to get in front of us and our 2 items with her cart full of crap. And out in he parking lot? She was driving a Hummer. A Hummer. Seriously. What 70 year old needs a Hummer? Of course, the fur overcoat was pretty unnecessary too. It’s kind of sad, really. No matter what she spends on coats and cars, she’s still one sad, ugly, old broad.