Haben Sie Eine Ausweispapiern?

The title of this blog is "Haben Sie Eine Ausweispapiern". But Hollywood shortened this factual request to "Haben Sie Papiern"?

For those who are uninitiated, the asking for your identity papers during a period of history brought fear and intimation. What did I do? What's wrong? It smacked of Big Brother. Well 1984 is almost 25 years in the past and in many respects the Orwellian world that was described is hear and yet there is much more to go to be that intrusive. George Bush still has a few days left!

So one day last week I needed to get a decongestant for my allergies. So I went into the local pharmacy,(sorry it wasn't Walgreen's), and I took a card off the rack for a package of Zyrtec-D. I went back to the pharmacy counter and presented the card.

All of a sudden I had to produce my drivers license, photo ID sign a book, have the transaction entered into a computer that is tracked worldwide.

I felt like I got caught with my hands in the cookie jar. The Federal Government now knows I have allergies and I take pills to control my sniffling, sneezing, coughing, flem spitting habit. I am ruined!!!!! Wait till this gets out. My neighbors will avoid me. My friends and co-workers will think I have some diminishing communicable disease like TB. Or maybe it's the start of something worse?

It is great that the Federal Government is taking such strides to keep us safe. Yet they can just fork over hundreds of billions of our tax dollars to greedy, self centered, self promoting lying, cheating, stealing, banks and insurance companies without so much as a list of where the money is going.

Washington, you've got it covered. Lean on the little guy and pat the back of your big corporate paramours. Did you ever think about why we have laws against crime? The government hates the competition.

So today it's allergy and cold medicines. What's next, creamy or extra crunchy peanut butter? All I can say is keep your "Ausweispapiern" handy. You'll never know when you'll be called upon to produce it so you can buy a pack of "Sen - Sen".

Good Bye and Good Luck!

Well the phone call came about fifteen minutes ago. We expected it many times in the past but George always rallied. He had more rallies than a well funded political candidate. But tonight the crowds were gone, the operatives home awaiting the big day tomorrow, and everyone else snug in their beds dreaming of pleasant thoughts.

So it is fairly fitting that on the eve of the most Holy of the days in the Christian calendar that George was called home by the Lord. George always enjoyed a party or any opportunity to get together with friends and family. Good food, drink and a host of jokes that kept the mood festive. So why not? It was a good fit. Yes, family and friends, here on this mortal coil will be saddened. He will be missed but death is not the end of life but the beginning of an eternal journey of life. George will be reunited with his recently deceased brothers. Free of pain and suffering.

We must look at this as a momentous event for all. George was called home to begin his eternal life on the eve of a celebration on the birth of the Savior who gave us, through his suffering and death our own eternal life when we are called home.

So tomorrow, on Christmas Day, let's all take a moment and hug one another, give those reassuring words of love and comfort, and lift a glass high and toast to George. He'd be proud and would enjoy in our celebration of his life and the rebirth of his spirit within us all.

George, you will be missed, but please save us all a place at the table of the eternal feast for some day we too will be there.

We Love you George. Good bye and Good Luck!

Carbon Footprint

I just love these names people dream up. I think it all stems from the fact that the dictionary has run out of words, so let's invent some more, "Carbon Footprint?"

Days end early, it's cold as a Witches _____, more layers of clothes are needed, the paper is full of ads, some guy on the radio is singing like an Eye Tailian from Brook-a-lyne about a donkey named Dominic, so it must be the Christmas season! No more thinking about the birth of the Savior and living the Christian way. Mass merchandise and crass commercialization. Sell, Buy, Consume! And don't forget to stomp some poor guy, who's just trying to make a living at just above minimum wage, so you can get that 96 inch flat screen TV to watch Infomercials (another one of those new words) on.

So it comes with the times that the World becomes a little more polluted. People go to great lengths to slather and garb their homes in a parade of lights that make Times Square blush.

Stores open early and close late. More lights. More heat. More dinosaurs burned. People travel more to the stores to buy presents so they can out do each other in a half hour of frenzy on Christmas Morning, so more gas is consumed. Thank the heavens that fuel costs are finally down.

But nobody thinks about one result of all of this and that is of the sky. I'm not talking about ozone layer, smog, acid rain. I'm talking about the stars, the planets, the ultimate cosmos (No, not the drink). As we evolve and extend the number of consumable hours in the day, we run out of natural daylight. So "Let's light up the Night!" Turn on the lights. Everything from seasonal lights, notice I didn't say Christmas, - ( I'm not trying to be politically correct here but we now light up our yards for Christmas, Halloween, Fourth of July, Sh rove Tuesday, etc. Any chance we can we are displaying our inability to cope with the dark), - to multicolored lights on the Empire State Building to a huge pyramid in "Lost Wages" (Las Vegas). Lights are on.

In our pursuit to glamorize and achieve beauty here on Earth we are closing the door on Natures night time beauty in the sky above. The constellations once told stories. We now have Satellite TV from the heavens with 800 different ways to show how to keep that erection or to stuff a roast with herbs. The meteor showers and comets would put on a spectacular natural fireworks display. Now we have the transformer on the corner phone pole exploding because of power overload. The biggest thing about the sky is it's unending size. Looking at it and thinking about it really can be a humbling experience. We are nothing bigger than a nat on an elephants ass when it is all said and done. So maybe all those infomercials about male enhancement drugs has gone to our heads. By blocking out the night sky with light pollution we've been able to ensure our own self importance by showing that some day, and that day is coming soon, that our carbon footprint will be bigger than anything Captain Kirk had ever had the pleasure to explore!

Brains Not Included

Back in the day, yes we actually had day and nights back then with all the dinosaurs and cave people (politically correctness), sports figures could be looked up to. I remember such figures as "The Mick," "Whitey,"Gil Hodges, Elston Howard, "The Duke", "Pee Wee,""Roger,"and so on. These guys played their hearts out and the fans supported them. As a kid I could follow their exploits each night when my dad would come home with the evening paper.

You didn't need a second mortgage to go to the ball park. Prices were affordable and games were held, for the most part, during the afternoon. It was always something, especially during world series time, to listen to the game on the radio. During my Junior High School years the janitor, that's what he was called, not facilities engineer, janitor - had a small radio in his room and between classes he'd have a card on his door showing the score. Just listening to the radio and the commentator describe the game as it was being played gave a special feeling to the game. There was always a feeling of anticipation. What was happening next? Today the audience has been desensitized by the high speed graphics, commentary, special interviews with the players about anything. There was no instant replay, no squeezing in commercials as the batter adjusted his hitting glove. They didn't even have hitting gloves back then.

None of these guys got big salaries. They were only traded when their career was on the skids. I knew a handful of kids back in the old neighborhood who actually got autographed balls, trading cards or imagine this, their autograph books signed by the players. These kids didn't even have to pay a dime for this. They just waited around till after the game and the players were more than happy to oblige.

Their playing statistics really meant something. They were true and unadulterated. Not tainted by performance enhancing drugs. Their performance is what mattered and that's how they were judged.

Now look at what we have. Players who will charge $500 for an autographed baseball! Forget about seeing them after the game, it just doesn't happen. Just imagine paying somewhere in the $100 plus range for a ticket to a ball game. Forget about being near the infield. You'll need Congressional Bailout money to afford those seats!

So where is this all going? You've got these multi-million dollar prima donnas screwing up so royally you wonder where the brains of the public really are. Excuse me for my lack of ability, but I can't even begin to try and spell their names, so I'll just say the sport and they'll be guilty by association. This knot-head who plays football for the Giants takes a loaded gun into a crowded nightclub and proceeds to shoot himself in the leg. What was he thinking? Was this athlete so insecure and ashamed of his manhood (or lack thereof) that he needed this phallic symbol to make up for his short comings? Then he wonders why he's in trouble? Mayor Bloomberg said it right - lock him up. Judge Judy would look him in the eye and say "Are You Stupid?" This guy deserves to loose his contract, the position on the team, and any chance of inclusion in the hall of fame for his stupid disregard of others.

Now talk about team work. There's this clown who I guess plays basket ball. His team has kept him on the bench for reasons that are probably straight forward, the guy isn't a team player. Now he sits and cries that he wants to be traded, allowed to play, boo hoo! He signed a contract, a legally binding device that subjects him to the servitude of the team who owns the paper. He plays when they want him to. He sits when he is told. They own him. Period. Get over it.

These are just two examples of the lack of smarts these guys have. And yet, we as consumers buy into it and promote this culture. Brains not included.

Number Please

Let's all face it, we're all connected. Hard wire, cell, Internet, blackberry, blueberry, raspberry, grapefruit etc. Look around, somewhere someone is talking, texting (I don't really understand this one. Why take the time to type it out if you're not sending a letter?), playing games, taking photos, some how some way trying to communicate to someone else. I remember a time, and it wasn't all that long ago, that the phone didn't ring for days. You picked up the receiver and it had some heft to it. More like a small barbell. Not this lightweight plastic crap that's molded in some far off locale (stamped with Hecho en Chine). Can't even say Made in China.

I spend more time on the phone than I want to admit or would like to. Having to call some vendor, agency or customer more times than not gets my stomach churning. Like tonight for example. Channel 3 disappeared from our television. I don't watch it too much, actually not very often if any at all. You see channel 3 is actually channel 5 out of New York but it's not the channel 5 I grew up with. Channel 5 used to be WNEW. Now it's some FOX name. There used to be something comforting about those old TV channels, 5, 9, and 11. They were truly New York. Simple, low budget entertainment. Back to the subject at hand.

I called the cable company. Your call is important to us and it may be monitored for quality assurance training purposes. Yea, right! First off, if our call was so darn important they would have some English speaking life form answer. Instead please listen to the following menu selections. Then some quick one liner about if you don't understand uncle cracker and refuse to conform and assimilate into the American culture you can take the rest of the call in some foreign tongue.

The real reason they tell you that are going to tape the call is so they can use it in evidence at your trial when you show up at their door and blow them away. They want to show the stress levels in your voice and how you are going to eat them for breakfast, without letting the jury know they forced you into a corner and made you snap.

Once you get past the pleasantries they ask you to input your phone number including area code. This is sharp! Ever wonder how you wind up on some telemarketers list? Here's how, you sign up yourself. (Try this one on for size, enter some obscure number next time, you know like the local VD clinic or Homeless shelter). Once you've finished giving up your number you're directed to another phone tree. More choices! I never knew how many combinations and choices we have in life. No wonder we can't make decisions anymore. Too many variables.

Finally, after just pushing indiscriminate buttons you get again, more choices! And more choices! Finally you give up muttering some thing about defacing the grave of Alexander Graham Bell or you get a selection of Moo-sack combined with "your call is important to us", or "all of our customer service representatives are busy assisting other customers and they'll be with you momentarily." These are all ways for the place you're calling to cover the time that it takes long distance connections to some hut in rice paddy town in a hot sub contenant to connect.

Then, after about ten or fifteen minutes (more like hours) you finally get someone. He says's his name is Bob, but you know from his accent he rode his elephant (you know the one with the little house on it) to work tonight. You start to explain what the problem is and why you're calling and the first thing he asks is for you to give him your telephone number! Starting with area code! You see they really do this because they can and that first time you entered the number did nothing!

Now the guy starts asking you questions and I never can understand what the heck they're saying. Maybe it's the fact they're sitting there eating grasshoppers, rice and curry wrapped in fried dog ears. I then start fighting fire with fire. I interject my slow Texas drawl. I say, ya know, pardner, I'm kinda get'n the feeling ya ain't from around these here parts now are ya? It's now becoming a game. They start talking slower and try to enunciate their words. You know just like the teacher does in ESL (English Second Language) classes do.

I got one of these guys so fed up he actually hung up on me! Score one for our side! It really doesn't matter though, when it's all said and done a repair order taken down the block, across town or halfway around the world still gets lost and they show up two or three hours late anyway.

But just think about it next time, if we can get enough people to all talk to these "Customer Service Representatives" in a John Wayne voice maybe they'll get the hint.

So when it's all said and done you hang up and hope for the best.