Let Me Tell You Something...

Did you ever come across an old man, sitting on his front porch in a rocking chair, ranting and raving about all kinds of things? Well, the old man got himself a computer and learned how to type.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Life Lesson # 9: The gym is over-rated

I used to be able to lift and carry rocks, trees and soil, and haul them all over the place. Nowadays, I carry a case of beer from the car to the basement and have to take a nap afterwards. I used to run like the wind, but now I mostly shuffle around and break wind. I do have a washboard stomach, but it looks like I've got a load of laundry in it.

All of these things eventually led me to the inevitable: I needed to join a gym.

I would describe myself as having a "pipe cleaner" physique -- long, wiry and fuzzy; not a whole lot of curves or definition, but I can sure get bent out of shape easily -- so I thought I would put some effort into attempting to remedy that by doing a little cross-training, aerobic exercises and some weights.

I signed my life away to get a membership (admittedly, I was drawn in by the free gym bag, t-shirt and water bottle), and was then introduced to Sven (pronounced "Tank"), who would go over the gym's policies, give me a tour of the facilities and teach me to use the equipment. The 20 minute tour essentially consisted of "Here's the weight room, always have a spotter. Here's the cardio area, always spray and wipe the equipment when you're finished. Here's the change room, don't pee in the showers."

I guess I was interrupting his routine and he wanted to get back to flexing and grunting at himself in the mirror.

Day 1 -- I went into the change room which was filled with mostly naked men, built like Mr. Universe. I emerged unscathed, feeling like Daniel leaving the lion's den. A mighty victory for my wimpy self.

Given that this was only my first day, I didn't want to overdo it so I decided to hit the treadmill. I've seen people on TV use these, so I figured "how hard could this be?". I stood on the platform, looking at a computer system that would have made Bill Gates uncomfortable, but thanks to the 4-second briefing that Sven gave me, I remembered there was "default-beginner" setting. I hit the button and began my descent into hell.

I ran for what seemed like an eternity. Turned out to be only 14 minutes, but my lungs were burning, my legs were going numb and I was having a hard time focussing on the task at hand because I had somehow become surrounded by what I can only describe as "incredibly hot chicks, wearing incredibly tight work-out clothes and who SO obviously wanted me and my fabulous buns o' steel".

Finally, the auto-pilot treadmill started to slow and eventually brought me back to a walking pace (which, by this point, was more like a drunken stagger). And proof that there is a God…It finally stopped. Sven's words of "wipe the machine down when you're done" echoed in my throbbing head.

I jumped off the machine and immediately realized that something was amiss. Somehow, my body was not registering the fact that the floor was no longer moving. As a result, the good folks at Equilibrium Central were sent into a panicked frenzy trying to compensate.

Before I knew it, I was at a 45-degree angle to the floor, desperately clutching for a hand-hold. I got nothing but air. I tried to work my feet to get myself upright, but succeeded only in propelling myself forward, pinwheeling my arms…

…and crashing head-long into the one-way mirrored glass wall, leaving a big, sweaty smear, like a bug on a windshield. In front of all the girls on the treadmills and stairmasters. Oh yeah. Now they TOTALLY wanted me. I also discovered that there was a yoga class in session behind the mirrored wall and they had witnessed the entire catastrophe.

Day 2 -- I stopped in on my way home from work and cancelled my membership.

Today's lesson, kids, is that despite what societal pressures there might be, there is no hard-and-fast rule that says you have to look like a Greek God/Goddess. Me? I'm happy to settle for looking more like a Greek letter (although I do realize that one day I'll probably wind up looking more like this one and have to head back to that hell hole).

Friday, September 22, 2006

Wal-Mart's New Back To School Essentials: Flak Jackets

Honestly, people, what is the world coming to? I don't understand what has gotten into kids these days, but let me tell you something…I weep for the future.

Remember the good, old days when boys used to bring frogs to school to scare the girls? If someone were to bring a frog to school today, it would probably get shot. Kids today are bringing guns and knives to school like we would bring hockey cards and gum, back in the day.

What happened to spitballs and drawing ugly caricatures of the teacher on the blackboard? Students have taken to stabbing, shooting, drugging, raping and blackmailing students and staff in order to get their C in Social Studies (and an A in criminology).

By now, many of you have heard about the Montreal shooting. I also posted about the ass-munch legal student who fired a pellet gun at fellow classmates the very next day. Parents, students, teachers and law enforcement are on edge because of all this. And yet the brainless wonders just keep coming. On Tuesday, two highschool kids show up wearing military fatigues and gas masks just for shits and giggles. Add these three stories to the growing list of school violence in recent times.

While I'm sure that violence in schools didn't start with Columbine, that event is certainly the benchmark that brought this issue into the mainstream. A number of questions repeatedly emerge out of each of these occurrences.

What causes these kids to go apeshit and want to kill people? Is school really that stressful -- moreso than it was 10 or 15 years ago?

And who's to blame?
Video Games? Maybe we should all go back to Scrabble and Donkey Kong.
Music? Ever listened to SlipKnot or Coal Chamber? THAT is some scary shit.
Parents? If they had better control of their children, perhaps this wouldn't happen.
Media? Constant images of blood and guts can de-sensitize people and/or give them ideas.
The janitor? His incessant mopping and sweeping could drive anyone to the brink.

And what do we do about it? Some suggest metal detectors, security guards and locked classrooms. Yeah, 'cuz THAT makes a school a comfortable place that is condusive to learning and higher education.

Lots of questions. Not much time.

In a couple years, my little guy will be heading off to school; out from under my protective wing and into the big scary world. If we don't fix this problem soon he'll most likely be packing a sandwich, an apple and some heat into his Barney lunchbox.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Why? Part Duh.

Let me tell you something...It never ceases to amaze me how many things there are in the world that make me scratch my fuzzy head and simply ask "Why?"

#1 Why is it that politicians, no matter whether they be municipal, provincial (or state) or federal, believe that the more lawn signs they put up, the more votes they'll get? There's an intersection not far from here that one candidate has erected no less than 12 signs of various sizes! Is there anyone out there that actually votes based on the number of signs they saw?

"I saw 600 "Marv Hermanson" signs on the way to the voting station. He must be the man for the job!" If that's your voting strategy, then I think it would be best if you just went home, put your head between your knees and repeated: "I am an idiot."

There is already so much financial retardation when it comes to politics, so I suppose it shouldn't be such a surprise that politicians devote so much of their campaign budget to lawn signs that may not even be able to be used in subsequent elections!

#2 Why would a 22 year-old man with a promising future as a lawyer feel that it would be appropriate to fire a pellet gun from his car while driving on the campus of his university the day after a psycho goth loser went on a shooting rampage at a college, just two hours away? Yeah, I highlighted the fact that it was a day after the shooting, but I'm not suggesting he should have waited for a more apt moment to terrorize his fellow students. Obviously there is NO acceptable time to shoot at innocent people, but given that this guy had enough grey matter to get into law school, surely he could have realized how much trouble he would be in.

Or perhaps I'm giving the law profession too much credit.

#3 And while we're on the subject of mental midgets and shootings...Why is it that whenever something like the Dawson College shootings happen, the bastard ends up getting killed before anyone has a chance to kick his teeth in? Same thing happened at Columbine, I think. Sure, he's dead and will never kill again, but it seems like he's getting off fairly easy compared to the kids who will forever be haunted by the physical, emotional and psychological scars. Suicide bombers suck ass that way too.

#4 Why do kids have wheels in their running shoes now? Why don't these things result in more wipe-outs, twisted ankles and cracked skulls than they do? Hey, this from the guy had trouble mastering the Velcro 'laces', back in the '80s.

Can anyone explain any of these to me?

Monday, September 11, 2006

Where's Helen Reddy When You Need Her?

Some of you loyal readers may recall a piece I wrote on racial intelligence. Well, guess what? The same guy who conducted that cockamamie project is back in the news again with yet another completely plausible and thought-provoking study. This one deals with intellectual differences between the sexes.

Oh, and by "completely plausible and thought-provoking", I really mean "utterly ridiculous and nobody gives a flying monkey crap".

According to his study, men have a slightly higher IQ, on average, than women, and it doesn't matter what your income, education, or ethnic background. So that suggests that if you're Black, making minimum wage, have a highschool education and are female; well then, you're so dumb you'd better wear a helmet to work, my friend.

I don't know whether this guy actually believes what he writes or whether he just loves the media attention. But let me tell you something…Women are just as dumb as men. For every stupid thing a man does, I'm pretty sure we could come up with an equal idiot action from a woman.

For example, I'm pretty sure NASCAR is entirely a male creation, but to balance it out, the women have countered with Trading Spaces Marathons.

So why would this guy want to pursue this issue? Will it really advance our society to know whether men are smarter than women? And who funded this study, anyway? I bet if I were to do some digging, I'd find at least a couple of bucks thrown in the kitty from "NO MA'AM"

Given that the supposed intellectual difference between the sexes is only 4 or 5 IQ points, I can't help but wonder what the scores would look like if this study had been conducted by a female professor. Or instead of looking only at academic SAT scores, there was a nationally-recognized "human" test that included such topics as "fashion coordination" or "social etiquette".

When was the last time you heard about a female serial killer? How many wars have been started by women? How often has a woman said "Hey, y'all! Watch this!"?

Us male brains may be slightly better than female brains, but that doesn't necessarily mean we're using it properly.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Coming Soon: OMC TV

These days, it seems just about any idiot with a pulse can get their own TV show.

Let me tell you something...It's a sad day when networks become so desperate for ratings and accolades that they stoop to airing the drivel I'm seeing lately.

Allow me to illustrate with a few "viewers choice" examples:

The Simple Life -- Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. One has a head full of nothing but air and the other weighs almost as much. Thankfully, Nicole has faded into the background, somewhat, but unfortunately, Paris is still doing her best to extend her 15 minutes of fame (which was about 14.5 minutes too long to begin with).

Rock Star: Supernova -- Holy Jesus, what a crap show this is! First, there's Tommy Lee. One time drummer for a famous metal band, two-time convicted criminal. With pearls of wisdom like: "Dude, grab the groupies and meet me backstage. That was awesome!", I just can't understand why Pamela Anderson left him for that other intellectual, Kid Rock.

And then there's Dave Navarro whose only real claim to fame is nailing Carmen Electra. Yeah, okay, he was apparently in a band a few years back, but as Miss Jackson asks: "What have you done for me lately?"

Oh, and we can't forget that both Tommy and Dave have had their own shows before this one. I didn't realize that a weekly viewership of roughly 175 people constituted primetime success.

So You Think You Can Dance -- Admittedly, this one is somewhat humourous, watching loser after loser pretend to be Shakira and then be all shocked when told that an old Canadian orangutan has better rhythm. The British guy with the wrinkly puss is just Simon Cowell on Valium and the smiley chick is just annoying.

Dancing/Skating with the Stars -- What dumbass came up with this concept? Take washed-up celebrities, match them with actual athletes (who may or may not be washed up at this point) and get the public to judge them all to find out who sucks the least.

World's Most Amazing Police Chases/Caught on Tape/Car Crashes etc.... The title is so misleading. First of all, 90% of the videos are from the UK, so it's not really the "World's Most...". Secondly, a lot of the videos aren't that amazing. And thirdly, why is it necessary to stretch three and half seconds of footage into an 11 minute segment. The car crashed. The driver lived. I GET IT ALREADY!!

Thanks to satellite TV, we now have access to hundreds and hundreds of channels from around the world. Specialty channels, Sports, News, Comedy, Movies -- anything you want, any time of day (except Bugs Bunny. I can't seem to find that wascally wabbit anywhere!!)

The fact that there are so many channels isn't my main complaint. What really frosts my cupcakes is that there are so many channels with absolutely nothing of any real quality. Bring back shows like The Gong Show, All in the Family and Sanford & Son. That was good stuff.

There must be a lot of money in becoming a TV star. Seems everyone's doing it. Maybe I should look into getting my own show. I have no experience, no talent, a face better suited for radio and no real thoughts as to what my program would be about. But then again, that hasn't stopped the likes Bob Saget, Ozzy Osborne or Jessica Simpson from getting their mugs on my screen.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Stupid Corporations.

Just a quick and dirty rant today because I'm too angry to be all flowery and poetic.

I don't like big corporations. How can you trust anyone that rakes in the profits, hand over fist, and then has the balls to complain that their taxes are too high or that their business is too slow?

Once they get to a certain size, these companies seem to lose touch with the people who actually made them as big as they are. Customer service? Forget about it! You're just another account number in their system (which reminds me of a rant for another day about why it's necessary to have an account number that contains more digits than there are people on the planet)...

Let me tell you something...There are two well-known telecommunications companies that have somehow unbelievably lost the ability to actually communicate. I won't name names, but suffice to say that one rhymes with "Hell" (how appropriate) and the other rhymes with "Dodgers" (what they seem to become when asked a direct question). (Apologies to my non-Canadian friends as these hints may not be that helpful).

Instead of the old-style "Press 1 for this…Press 2 for that…", (which I guess is SO passé), both corporations have taken to using a voice-activated menu. Guess how much I love listening to the cheery robot voice and giving my one-word answers for the first 28 minutes of my phone call? About as much as I'd love having my prostate checked by Captain Hook. Ar, matey.

And when I finally DO get a real, live person on the line, I'm told that I've reached the wrong department and that they'll have to transfer me which then means I've been sent to purgatory called "on hold" to listen to music that is A) far too loud and B) far too Michael Bolton. All because I took a wrong turn somewhere in their labyrinth of Q&A with Mr./Ms. Cheerful instead of speaking to an actual human.

As you may have guessed, I am currently embroiled in negotiations between these two firms for their services. Both have claimed that the transition would be seamless, however somehow in all of this, I've become the project coordinator. I've been scheduling technicians for hook-ups, making billing arrangements, and negotiating pricing packages.

You can be sure I'll be submitting a timesheet to both companies so that I can start collecting a paycheque for all that I've done for them. Surely with all of their hundreds of millions of dollars in revenue they can fork over a couple grand for my time. Oh, and perhaps make a trip to HMV for some new "on hold" muzak.