Monthly Archives: February 2012

Another Unnecessary Death

Whitney Houston is dead at 48 – my age.  She died of alcohol mixed with prescription drugs.  So did Michael Jackson, so did Heath Ledger, so did Brittany Murphy, so did River Phoenix, so did Amy Winehouse, so did Anna Nicole Smith, and so on.  Where are the people who know and love these famous wealthy people?  Where are the families?  Where are the doctors that continue to prescribe drugs to people who they know drink?  So many are sad and lonely, looking for any combination to relieve their pain and their inability to sleep.  We recently lost a family friend in the same way.  She wasn’t famous, but she died from drinking and taking her prescription pills.  You are never sure if it was intended suicide, or if they simply pushed their body’s limits too far in search of sleep and peace.  I know in our own situation, family and friends gave as much support and love as they could.

I wish there was something we could do to prevent these in the future.  Whether you like people like Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, or Lindsay Lohan, they are still fellow human beings, in many cases young and depressed, and they need our help, whatever we can do.  I for one no longer make light of such situations and laugh at their antics.  Please take keys away from drunk or high friends and get them a cab.  Please don’t laugh when they tell you of their drunken exploits.  Try to get them help.  In the end only they can save themselves, but the rest of us need to learn from these tragic events.

Here is prayer that the suffering of their families be bearable, and that through the publicity of their deaths, perhaps others will avoid similar fates.

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Today’s Signing and Lunchables For Grown Men

Today at Next was good as I got to meet lots of interesting folks like Deborah, Emily, Alan and others.  I also got to hang out with fellow authors Gale Leach and Vincent Alascia.  Chris Wilke also stopped by and hung out with his son Connor.  Unfortunately, traffic was light today, probably because it was so nice outside.  Thanks to Next Coffee Shop for having us!

On the humorous side, I saw this picture of a lunchable for grown men.  A bit different than the children’s version:

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Book Signing at Next Coffee Shop This Sunday

The Westside Wordsmiths, including yours truly, will be signing copies of our books at Next Coffee Shop this Sunday (two days from now).  Hope to see you there.

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Alcohol versus Yoga – You Decide!

I noticed this interesting comparison, of drunks doing yoga by accident, versus actual yoga masters.  Which do you think is better or more fun?

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It’s a Dog’s Life

I am a dog man, and have been since I was a toddler.  My first dog, Skippy a cocker spaniel, died when I was 2 when my father accidentally ran over her.  My second dog, Honey Bun a toy fox terrier (like a Jack Russell but smaller) kept me company from the age of 2 until her death when I was 19.  I think dogs are one of the greatest of God’s creations.  So why is it people say, you are in the dog house now, or treated like a dog, or a dog’s life – and mean it in a bad way?  These critters run around, play, go for walks, eat, get belly rubs, get ear rubs, get treats, chase around critters…  I don’t know, their life seems kind of fun.  If I was all furry and cute maybe my wife would rub my ears and belly all the time and give me treats.  Instead, if I ask her to give me a neck massage she rolls her eyes back and groans.  Our dogs just climb up on her and look cute and voila – full body massage!  Here are some pics of those dogs with the hard lives…

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Our Increasing Lack of Freedom

I remember my old showers, the ones where the water pressure was nice and strong, and the water was hot.  Now, we have low flow devices mandated in our faucet heads and temperature turned down on the water heaters.  When I was a kid, I would walk around with my shotgun shooting at birds and squirrels and we would burn our trash in barrels in the backyard.  We would build our own sheds without a permit.  We would chop down trees and reclaim land without permission from the federal government.  All those things are felonies now.

We could flush our toilets once, because it had enough gallons to actually flush correctly.  I could even buy lightbulbs of my own choice.  It is a good thing that the benevolent government of unionized bureaucrats knows how to live my life better than I do.  They protect me from too much salt, from coconut oil on my popcorn, from grandmothers in wheelchairs in airports.  The same smart people you see when you go to the Motor Vehicle Department, the Post Office or any public agency are there to be smarter than you and protect you.  You don’t need freedom, you need protection.  You may do something unsafe or foolish.

There are never enough government programs to truly protect you, so you need to pay more and more in taxes so you can be better protected.  Ignore the fact that the average federal employee makes over $72,000 a year and over a third make six figures.  So what if the private sector pays less and usually around $40,000 on average?  The people in government are smarter than you and protect you, they deserve more.  When unemployment in the country reached over 10% and 500,000 people stopped even looking for work, take solace that the number of federal employees increased and most got substantial raises.

So, let’s not talk about cutting government, even though we would have no deficit if we went just to 2007 spending levels.  The government knows better what to do with our money and our lives.  Freedom is just unsafe because we don’t exercise it responsibly.  The following is a repost from my oldest sister, Penny:

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Why The Super Bowl is Replacing Thanksgiving

I read a report today that Super Bowl Sunday now exceeds every other day for calorie consumption EXCEPT Thanksgiving.  That got me to wondering, how a relatively new sport phenomenon could impact so much of America.  First, more people celebrate Thanksgiving, so those at Super Bowl Sunday parties are eating more per capita than the thankful ones.  I attribute it to a number of factors.  One, America is so rich, we have less thankful people.  You scrape together a harvest that might keep you fed through the cold winter months, having seen half your people die off in the past, and you are ready to celebrate.  Heck, invite the natives, break out the beer, and throw a party.  Thank God that you will make it alive another year – what better reason for a bash?  And yes, even today, Puritans and Amish drink more beer per capita than the rest of us.  It’s why they put into shore where they did, the beer was gone.

Today, Thanksgiving is that uncomfortable family get together.  It’s bad enough to have to spend time with your family, but before the football games, it was the dread silence and conversation.  Years of contempt you have built up, waiting for release.  Most of us knew we would survive with enough food, so we focus on our rivalries and bitterness with relatives, not on thanking God.  Besides, today, few people have traditional families.  You have his, hers, ours, kids, ex-families, step families, in-laws, out-laws, you can keep track of baseball statistics easier than your own family tree.  Someone has to organize, find a place, get people together, get food, and be prepared for the usual family fights.

For the Super Bowl – all you need is beer, wings, pizza and big screen TV.  You don’t even need enough seats, standing and the floor work.  You can buy the food and beverages – you don’t have to make anything.  You can even tell people to bring their own.  If people piss you off, you just leave!  You get to pick your invites and have actual friends – not family!  Yep, Super Bowl Sunday has wider, and more lasting appeal in today’s America.

My tradition – a pizza made with all sharp cheddar cheese (no mozzarella) pepperoni, dried salami, and olives.  If I want extra briny I go with the green olives instead of black.  Not for everyone, but I love it.  It has enough caloric value to feed Somalia for a week.  I also like boneless wings.  I hate picking skin, veins and meat off a little piece of bone.  But boneless – oh yeah!  In fact, I don’t even know if it is chicken.  It could be rat, cat, horse, who knows?  Basically, you deep fry batter and toss hot sauce on it and I’m game.  Just no bones…  The thick, hot, but not so hot you can’t feel your lips sauce too, not that weak orange oily stuff you get all too often.

What is my Super Bowl Sunday prediction – A full belly, trying not to pay too much attention to the GoDaddy or Adriana Lima commercials while my wife watches me like a hawk, and fun with friends.  My favorite commercial was years ago, I think by Etrade.  It was a monkey banging on a plastic bucket in a garage while two people watched.  It ended – “we just wasted $1 million, what do you do with YOUR money?”  A classic wth moment.

 

 

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