Tools

Home Depot is not my friend. Talk about being out of my element. I belonged in there about as much as I belonged in a Victoria’s Secret. It was like I was friggin' city mouse in the country. Only this was the mother of all country stores.

I was definitely the nerdy computer guy in a hardware store. They could sense it when I came in, with their confused looks and their sideways glances. I just kept on strolling, trying not to push my glasses up my nose too much.

Rows and rows of tools, gizmos, and gadgets, about 1% of which I could name or ever use. My usual reaction to the word “tool” is to say, “Yeah, they’re pretty good. I like a few of their songs” or “Yeah, I don’t like frat guys either.”

I tried to act nonchalant, like I knew what the hell I was doing. I even tried watching other people to see what they were doing, like when I’m dancing. Then I would pick up random items and examine them with all sorts of spontaneous tests that didn’t make any sense. It's like when you pick a piece of fruit. I tried bending the tool with my bare hands or holding it eye level and looking down it for straightness. I flipped over the box and checked out the stats on it. “Oh, its voltage is 7.2 amps. That’s a good amount of that.” I even tried an endurance test consisting of me dropping it on the ground… which I told myself was a test and not me just being clumsy.

And tell me this. When did screwdrivers evolve from the standard and the Phillips head? I mean, now there’s a whole set of screw turners for every sort of head and slot. I’d feel like Dr. Seuss just trying to name some of them.

Plus there are fifty kinds of saws, all of which… cut. But you know which saw I didn’t see? One of those two person lumberjack saws that fell trees in a see-saw motion. None.

I even asked one of the hundreds of elderly guys in the orange vests and he still looked puzzled after I repeated the description. He leaned close enough so I could smell the smoke on him from last night’s Bingo Bash Tournament of the Month, and I said, “Forget it. I was just curious.” Though he pulled a quarter from behind my ear. Thanks Gramps.

I was eventually escorted out though because I told someone I thought Bob Villa looked like a homosexual lumberjack. It was ok though because I had had enough emasculating for one day and I got what I came for.

Stupid tools.

Boy Scouts

Ah, the Boy Scouts. Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Of camping and camp fires and summer camp and campers and John Cougar Mellencamp. Well, not if you were a girl. I mean… are a girl. Whatever. You had the bastardized version of Boy Scouts, cleverly named Girl Scouts, where you would sew or make tasty things. But if you’re a guy, you know what I’m talking about. And if you’re still a girl, you can just read along and laugh when appropriate.
Any way, boy scouts was a pretty strange time in my life that I have blocked out, for the most part. But its all resurfacing because I fell and hit my head on the toilet. And instead of coming up with a way to time travel, I pretty much just remember more things.

Here’s how I remember it, let me know if you disagree. Be prepared.


Well, before you’re a boy scout, you’re a cub scout. You have to be a baby bear before you can become a boy. Sort of like a messed up Pinocchio, I guess. But it didn’t stop there. You were a cub, a bear, a wolf… You’re this animal. Now you’re this one. You’re in a pack, a den, a troop… Wait, you’re a tiger, a bobcat, a webelo… Hold on a second. A webelo? What in the hell is a webelo? Oh, I didn’t realize it was an acronym. I guess I wasn’t paying attention when I was awarded the gold and blue pin star badge medal that goes on your front left shirt pocket next to your order of the sacred Indian super patch.

And then you get to be a boy scout. You earn all those badges. You learn all those knots. And when it’s all over… you’re an eagle. What? I thought… but… I was an animal earlier.. and then I was a boy… can I be a man yet? No? Eagle? OK. But you can’t be an eagle until you’ve done that service project. You come all that way and earned all those silly pins and patches, but you have this project. You can’t put it on your resume until you’ve convinced some poor, unsuspecting church to let you build a rickety fort in their playground where it can collapse on future eagle scouts.

And I’m sure that “Eagle Scout” really works on the resume. “Well, it looks like you really have no experience and your grade point average is almost non-existent. But what is this? Eagle scout eh? Welcome aboard. We need someone that can use Morse code or survive in the wilderness. That’s the kind of man we need on our team.”

Hiking, which was basically walking around for a while carrying all of your stuff. And then when you got tired, you stop and put it all down for a while, take a nap, eat a little, and then pick it all back up and walk some more. I always hated it, probably because I teeter totter along like the monster from Frankenstein, and carrying crap on my back doesn’t help. I always thought “Why don’t you carry your stuff around and come back in a day or two? I’ll be here. With my stuff. Not walking. I don’t need to carry it some place else and then come back, because it’s already here. And I’m comfortable.” And it was almost required to carry a pocket knife. “Ok, you got your sleeping bag, your flashlight, your ridiculous outfit… wait… where’s your pocket knife? What if you need to cut small branches or tweeze things?”

But you couldn’t just carry the knife around and cut things whenever you damn well pleased. You had to have a whittling chit. What in the hell is a whittling chit? Never heard the word chit anywhere else in my entire life except when it was used in scout knife safety. Boy scouts just MAKING UP WORDS.

You could saw some wood or fell a forest, but you couldn’t whittle without a little card that said you knew the proper whittling technique. “Whoa there, Timmy, what are you cutting? Wait a minute, that looks like whittling to me. Where’s your chit?”

And then there was this whole scare recently about gays being in the Boy Scouts. And everyone was all surprised. “What? You mean, a gay person in the wilderness, I didn’t think that was possible.” I don’t know, I just thought they should have seen it coming. I mean, look at them. You’ve got colored handkerchiefs tied around your neck, flowing sashes like a Miss America pageant, and short shorts. Oh yeah, and it’s all male.

It was bound to happen. Some fruitcake learning knots and he figures out the sheep shank and goes “Ooh, naughty.”

And look at the parallels to the military. All the saluting, the badges, the medals, and the summer camps… just on a larger scale. The Boy Scouts are basically building a small army of boys with tiny knives. And at the time the military had just gone through its own bout with homosexuality and political correctness, where they basically ending up saying, “Shhhhh.”

I say we have a boy scout and Catholic priest mixer. Everyone all together in one big room, just “dancing” the night away.

Letter to Kobe

Kobe Kobe Kobe. All I can do is shake my head in a shocked state of complete denial. But I think we all have to come to terms with what this whole fiasco means. Our little baby's all grown up.
From the point where you said, "Hey, where do the high school girls hang out around here?" until now, where it looks like it may cost you the Olympics, you've started to become a man right before our eyes. And it brings tears to them. Granted, they may be tears of laughter, but we won't get all technical. Go Mavericks.

And you've really handled it like a class act, like a real adult. My favorite was when you made an appearance at the Teen Choice Awards. Maybe if you had given one teen a choice...

Either way, welcome to the big leagues, Kobe. You may have been in the NBA since 1996, but now you're a true NBA player. Wow, your first real scandal. It's kinda of exciting in a scary, you-could-get-life-in-prison sort of way.

You have joined the ranks of all the other professional athletes now. But don't worry, it has happened to the best of them. Even the great Michael Jordan has had some problems. But they all eventually get out of it, because they're stars and that's what they do. I mean, look at O.J.

When I heard the news back in July, I immediately thought, "Say it ain't so, Kobe! Say it ain't so!" And you did on July 12, 2003, when you said "I would never do something like that." I then wiped my brow and thought "Whew, I'm glad that's all cleared up." It's crazy to think that a 24-year-old basketball super star with millions of dollars and an equal number of female fans would do such a thing. But let's examine the facts:

Kobe Bryant, 24, great athlete. Likes women.

A 19-year-old girl, described by her friends as "fun-loving, outgoing and emotional." Doesn't like to be sexually assaulted.

Sounds to me like we have a real case on our hands.

ESPN reports that you, who lead the team in points, assists, and steals, plan to play basketball ON the court when you're not IN court. And I applaud this. What better way to take out aggression and humiliation from the press than to play around in the spotlight some more, backed by the newest Dream Team of bought players.

A fan of the team, paid sizably by the Lakers to remain a supporter, said, "He was just trying to bring the funk. He just got a little carried away." Whatever it was that you were doing, or not doing, it is sure to impact absolutely nothing as far as NBA viewers, who are now immune to the player's antics.

And we can only hope that in a few years we'll all be talking around the water cooler about the new LeBron James scandal. I'm taking bets. Murder or rape gets odds.

Rouge Lemonade Stand Shut Down

A six-year-old girl named Abagail Shaw learned that it’s not easy being an entrepreneur on Wednesday, June 18, in Naples, Florida. Her lemonade stand was shut down due to a lack of permit required for temporary businesses. A complaint was filed by a nearby neighbor, causing the cops to follow procedure and follow up on it.
The police officers arrived on the scene to find that the complaint was true and a rogue lemonade stand was illegally exchanging quarters for Dixie Cups filled with “lemonade.” The liquid was confiscated and taken to the lab for testing, where it was confirmed that it was made from real lemons.

The cops, upon learning that she was operating without a permit, wasted no time in throwing Abagail to the ground and placing handcuffs around her wrists. The handcuffs were said to have slipped off, resulting in her being hog tied and tossed in the squad car. When later interviewed about the arrest, the officer explained, “I felt the force was necessary because of her insubordination and obvious attempt to escape.”

An onlooker in a wife-beater described the incident as like nothing he had seen before. But he added, “The lemonade was overpriced and wasn’t very good.”

The department chief said, “We’ve had a lot of problems with the children in this area. We’ve arrested dozens for playing pretend army games, illegal games of ‘house,’ and mostly recently this criminal lemonade ring. This total disregard for the law is unacceptable.”

Abagail Shaw was charged with operating a stand without a permit, running a monopoly on that particular street, and bribing a police officer with a free cup of lemonade.

The girl was returned to her stand after the city “played Mr. Niceguy.” A permit was issued, allowing her to resume business as usual. All other fake charges that I made up were also dropped.

She is said to have since tripled business because of the publicity. This allows her to pay the cops for protection under her tiny plastic table.

Actor/Actor

I think the hardest job has got to be being an actor... that plays another actor.
Not only do you have to act like your character, but you have to act like your character acting like ANOTHER character. You’re all wrapped up in a web of multiple personas, trying not to slip into schizophrenia. It’s like walking a tight rope, only harder.
Some would say a brain surgeon or a teacher. But they have schools for that. They don’t have schools on how to be an actor/actor. Sure, they have acting classes. But you can’t be taught this skill. You have to be born with the talent to act like you’re acting.

Few actors undertake such a daring feat because of the potential dangers involved. It has to be trying on the mind wrestling with the personalities. Nothing can be as tough as being THREE PEOPLE AT ONCE. Matt LeBlanc does it occasionally on the set of Friends and supposedly there is a rescue team standing by at all times. I really respect his bravery. Not even the Hollywood greats, like John Stamos or Tony Danza, would attempt such a ludicrous role.

It takes a lot of talent to be an actor/actor. So think about that next time you see an actor… acting like an actor. And think of his kids.

Garbage Men

I feel sorry for trash men. And not because they drive through the neighborhoods on the back of a giant smelling truck to pick up the filth and garbage of people along the way. But because they must have a hard time outside of work too.
Think about it. The guy comes home from work, sounding like an out-of-work super hero (the Trash Man), with his coveralls smeared with slop and grime, and his wife asks him how his day went. And he responds with, "Well, honey, it was a slow trash day. Some of the trash cans weren't out by the curb."

And then she wants to know if anything exciting happened.
So all he can say is, "Well, we ran over a rabbit with the truck."
His wife exclaims, "Oh no! What did you do?"
And he says, "We threw it away."
It's sad, really.

Long Term Hugging

Let’s just get one thing straight here, people. Snuggling, cuddling, and spooning are all completely different. I mean, they’re in the same ball park, here. But they’re basically sub categories of the whole type of move called “long term hugging.” Each one is special in its own way.
Now, this may be confusing at times. It may be strange. You may even say “What the hell is he rambling about?” But if at any time you feel these emotions, just close your eyes and the feeling should pass. Just forget everything you ever knew about anything, buddy.

First, my young apprentice, there’s cuddling. Now cuddling is defined clearly as “a hug that lasts all night.” You’re both facing the same way in this position. You’re equals. It’s basically like hugging, but… not standing up. You’re there with him or her (hey, I don’t judge people, I’m just educating) and you’re locked in a warm embrace. That, my friend, is cuddling. It’s just comfortable. And most importantly, it’s harmless.

All forms of “long term hugging” are, really. Sure, they’ll be the dissenters that try to lure you to the other side, saying “No, it’s not harmless. There’s something there.” It’s my duty to warn you of these naysayers. Bad people, these corrupted cuddlers are. It seems like they could all use a hug.

And then there was snuggling. Now this is just cuddling… evolved. One person is snuggled RIGHT UP INTO the other one. One’s just holding the other. All is well.

Which brings us to spooning. You ever see two spoons and how they fit together? That’s spooning. But with people. You’re both facing the same way. One arm… thrown right over the other person. Yeah, that’s nice.

And that’s it. You’ve been enlightened. Those are the basics. There could even be more types out there in the vast word of “long term hugging,” just waiting to be discovered.

So get to work. We’re all counting on you.