Where's That Equator?

Late November is always a magical time of year, when the first snows blast their volcanic sputum upon our windshields and everything begins to really become a 24 hour hangover. If summer is New Year's Eve, then November is that dreadful New Year's Day get-together with bad food, 11 kids running around, and lots of Lawrence Welk reruns. In short, it's the beginning of a long, depressing journey across the temporal tundra. In areas of the northern midwest, where warmish weather is welcomed but never taken for granted, the inevitably abrupt shift into Siberian hell can never be a calm transition. Forget about those concepts of Seattle having a dreary climate and depressing environment - not hardly - it might be rainy at times, but it's not smelly, gray and cold for 5 months like it is around here in winter. They only occasionally see snow - we only occasionally see vegetation. Live in Chicago between the months of November and April, and you'll know what a depressing environment can really be like. Humans just aren't meant to live anywhere north of the 38th parallel - we belong in the tropics, running around with our machinery hanging out, flopping around like one of those stupid decorations people put on their car antennae.

I love when these homebody freaks extol the virtues of the beauty of a fresh snow, and the warmth of a cozy fireplace with good friends and a nice soft blanket. Bite me; go to Alaska you freak. I'll take the global warming. Oh come on, let the ice caps melt and we'll figure out a way to save the wildlife up there, who must be the stupidest of all Darwinian evolution, to end up migrating up to those areas. The polar bear must have been the really stupid bear that dropped out of school early to pursue a music career with Greg Brady, only to realize that the Brazilian Trance Music craze hit an untimely demise. As Sam Kinison used to yell to the famine ravaged Ethiopians, YOU'RE IN THE DESERT! GO WHERE THE FOOD IS YOU MORONS! Imagine him screaming that, and it has a little more zap to it. But to be pragmatic, our lumbering bodies are better equipped for handling 100 degree weather than 20 degree weather.

Many can recall my sincere hatred of driving, and winter conditions can only exacerbate this folly. My car is barely equipped to handle the rain, let alone snow. Left turns become U-turns. Trains need less distance for stopping than my beloved sledmobile. It's rear wheel drive, and not recommended for anyone north of the aforementioned 38th parallel. It's been stuck in 2 inches of snow. It's slid backwards while driving up a ramp. It even got stuck in a car wash once. Try pushing your own idling vehicle out of a slippery morass while being hot-waxed. I actually know what it's like to be an M & M after that. Hey, it could be worse - I could be living in one of those hideous cities in the northern half of the "former Soviet Republic". Boy, talk about a depressing way to live - cold all the time, always stuck eating beets, yuck. Worst of all, they can't even afford color. Colors are translated into unique, peculiar dotted patterns, in the same way they show the areas of temperatures on a national weather map. Let's see, it's going to be in the 80s where the map appears "oniony". Whoo hoo! Honey, we're oniony!
I have to admit, I started writing this diatribe in early January, right when the pot-bellied, loquacious weathermen would belch their funny "ho ho ho! Here comes the snow!" and similar moronic slogans. I don't like watching the weather report - it's too irritating to endure a double whammy of a typically crappy forecast, followed by cute small talk from the weather dork and the charming newscasters. Just give me a temperature for tomorrow. I don't even care about precipitation, or if tomorrow's windy day will be a real "hat chaser". No thanks. Numbers, vectors, and that's about it. Like the people in air traffic control. They give the basics, and the current conditions are spouted out in about 4 seconds. Not too difficult. And frankly, anyone who proclaims their love of the gentle snows and wintry scenes should find themselves stranded in a blizzard, ultimately devoured by hungry caribou. No remorse for winterphiles. Perhaps in rural areas, for elderly invalids, the gentle snowfall gives them something nice to look at, and a lot more things to count. Kids love it because they don't have to drive in it. Go ahead, build your little snow fort. In 20 years, you'll be wishing you could hide in one, after skidding out of control and plowing the ol' Impala into a lumbering cement truck. Impaled by an Impala. Nice ring to it.

Winter is just a disgusting reminder that our billowing wad of crud called "earth" is just a hair too far away from the sun. How about we find a way to chemically fix the ozone layer, but still allow global warming to flourish. Melting of the ice caps? Oh, c'mon, it's extra water! Dump it on the deserts and grow some oats or hemp. With all the extra unfrozen water in the system, and the higher temperatures, this whole orb can be a lush tropic paradise. Ok, so the middle east might fry a little bit, but let's see how many bombs they can build during those cool 160 degree evenings. Little tired, Skandar? Go out there and proclaim death to America! There ya go, lil' buddy! Aw, heat stroke got another one. (Cue the "Price Is Right" loss of game sound effect). How's the heat in tents? Intense! Ho ho hee hee, I slay me. They better not. Anyhow, I'd love to colonize some more American regions down by the equator, just so more of us can escape this abysmal climate. There are too many loopy bozos in the current temperate regions of the U.S., so it's time to think southward. Let's go! Manifest Destiny! Death to cold!

What a Difference a Century Makes

Well kids, it's hard to believe, but we're approaching the five-year point since we all said "ciao" to the roaring 1990s. It might be a good time to take a moment and review where we were back then, and where we are now.
To that end, I've written up a little comparison of then and now, looking at myself - how I was in 1999, and how things are now. I suppose things aren't as great as they used to be, but hey, there's always the future. For extra "wacky" effect, I've posed this list of comparisons in the third person, so "he" in the following is, well, me. Your ol' pal, Mikey. Oh and "Happy Christmas" as those British say.

1999: Was a 7-handicap golfer
2004: Killed 7 handicapped golfers

1999: Could not imagine 9/11
2004: Could not remember 9/11

1999: Occasionally forgot to take a lunch to work
2004: Occasionally forgets to take self to work

1999: Claimed familiarity with 80% of the words in Webster's Collegiate Dictionary
2004: Claims familiarity with 80 words in Webster's Collegiate Dictionary

1999: Mike complains about how badly his Mustang handles the roads in winter
2004: Mustang complains about how badly Mike handles the roads in winter

1999: Lived about one mile from a local Aldi
2004: Is about one year away from working at Aldi

1999: Won his first dart match against a difficult opponent
2004: Won his second dart match against a difficult opponent

1999: Had annoying habit of letting hair grow to the point of resembling a homeless Michael Landon
2004: No change.

1999: Wondered what might happen in the 21st century
2004: Wonders what happened in the 21st century

1999: Occasionally played pool for money
2004: Occasionally cleans pools for money

1999: Was a promising software engineer working for a failing company
2004: Is a failing software engineer working for a promising company

1999: Was in a band, playing area bars and clubs
2004: Is now banned from area bars and clubs

1999: Planned for New Year's Millennium celebration
2004: Still recovering from New Year's Millennium celebration

1999: Sold the condo that was purchased in 1995
2004: Sold unused condom that was purchased in 1995

1999: Complained about unreliable cellular provider
2004: Cellular provider complains about unreliable Mike

1999: Feared the dreaded "Y2K" bug
2004: Fears this dreaded "U-NOT-FUNNY" blog

Nitpicking the Language

I can get snobby about specific things at times, but one area I carry the most scrutiny is with language, grammar, and the ability to communicate effectively in print. Not a day goes by without a groan or two, upon seeing hideously bad grammar on a prominent sign, likely written by a person who's paid much more than myself. While money isn't everything, it certainly isn't commensurate with intelligence either. Similarly, I'm sure I am putting a huge target on my back with this type of blanket incrimination - and as I often am quite a dizzy idiot during the waking hours, I'm bound to commit myriad typos and mistakes in these writings as well, but then again, I don't get paid for it. I only get paid for massaging sponges and refereeing Amish rake fights.

- The esteemed village of Niles (a local town with 25 cops per capita) always posted pathetic, condescending signs by traffic signals, with catchy commands such as "shop locally". One of their better efforts involved a sign with "just say no" and the word "drugs" in one of those red circles with a diagonal line through it. So we see "just say no" and "no drugs". Ok, sure, just say no to "no drugs". Sounds good. Perhaps I'll fire up a couple joints before shopping locally.

- Redundancy is always fun to notice. Ah wasted words, quite a shame. The idiots on the elevator will say "I was up until 2 A.M. in the morning". Thanks for clarifying the morning part. Either say "2 A.M." or "2 in the morning". Not both. People still stay "tuna fish". How did this start? It's tuna. I'm sure you're not talking about having a sandwich made of Tuna Chrysler. The fish part, I figured that one out. Tonight I'm going to Boston Market and get me some of that yummy chicken bird.

- V.I.N. stands for "Vehicle Identification Number". P.I.N. stands for "Personal Identification Number". But it's always "VIN number" and "PIN number". Vehicle Identification Number Number. #@##@%^!@. See, with forethought, we could have instilled "VI number" and "PI number" into the language. Plus "PI Number" sounds so nice and tasty. Mmm Apple PI Number. I suppose the math guys might take issue with "PI number" since PI represents 3.1415 blah blah blah. Fine, stick with P.I.N. then. See if I care. Math guys stink. They can all get stuffed...we have no use for you any more, we've got computers. Here's a quiz, math guy - what's zero plus the number of girlfriends you've had? Haha! Yeah, thought so. Now get outta here and do some long division or something.

- Here's a pisser. Nobody catches this one. I'll see a catalog of instructional cassettes with titles like "Learn Spanish In 10 Minutes a Day". You can run 10 miles a day, walk 30 minutes a day, but you don't exercise in an hour a day. That's abysmal phrasing, and all these "educators" fall back on this hack title construct. Here, you overpaid bozos, I'll help. The point of the title "Learn Spanish..." is to show what little you need to "give" in order to learn the language - so we're looking for an object to the sentence that illustrates what "device" is necessary to learn Spanish. You can learn Spanish with 10 minutes per day, or learn Spanish with 10 minutes daily. To even include "in 10 minutes" is simply incorrect usage for the context. The "in" preposition illustrates finite bounds - as in you must finish the test in 60 minutes. Not 60 more minutes tomorrow and the next day, just one set of minutes here. I don't know if these goofballs are trying to fool us naive, unilingual neophytes into accidentally seeing "learn Spanish in 10 minutes" - Zoinks! I can learn 20 languages in a couple hours! Whoo hoo! Perhaps this lousy tactic has paid off in the past. I'm no fan of marketing and advertising, to be sure.

- The apostrophe thing. "It's" and "Its", especially. Grrrr, damn it drives me nuts, seeing this in books and other allegedly legitimate arenas. Only stick it in there when saying "it is"!!! Puhleeeeeze. Just remember the mnemonic "Apostrophe? It is handy". By hearing "it is" split apart, it should help.

- Separate. Not "separate". Mnemonic - "there's a rat in separate". I still use that one to this day, though it conjures up a weird image.

- The British. Face it everybody, we "thick" Americans have won the Battle of the Babel...with the internet and our mere prowess, the "American Style" English rules the roost. So stop sending us funny emails and web pages sprinkled with "bollocks", "realise", "lorry" and all those other localized (not localised) words that are about as fresh as your universities. Otherwise I will send you to a hospital (not "send you to hospital") and it won't feel like you're on vacation (not "on holiday"). We get on an elevator, not a friggin' lift. Those are trucks, not lorries. We use paper towels, not kitchen paper. I don't want to write you a "cheque", unless you want to go "fuque" yourself. Stop using old words. Just stop it. Join the team. Otherwise you'll seem just as stubborn and anachronistic as those weirdos that still speak Gaelic. Whoa boy, don't even get me started with that bunch.

- Circular logic. I enjoy times when someone intends to convey that somebody's opinion or lifestyle has turned the opposite direction. "I used to be liberal and now I'm a staunch conservative; I've done a complete 360." No, doofus, it's 180. Doing a "360" means you've ended up right back where you started. Sheesh.