Life Lesson #15: Embarassment, Thy Name is Porn.

Friday night finally rolled around, and after a gruelling week at work I was really looking forward to a quiet evening at home alone. And what better way to unwind than to rent a couple of movies and just relax for the evening?

As with all of my Life Lessons, you can probably guess that our hapless hero is about to get into trouble. Even in seemingly inocuous situations such as this, you can bet I'll find a way to send it all to hell.

For my viewing pleasure I had selected two movies. The first was a guy's version of a chick-flick: Aliens. Hey, it had Sigourney Weaver and she's a chick (although barely). My second selection was, shall we say, "a gentleman's film from behind the beaded curtain", if ya know what I mean.

Arriving back at my apartment building, I tucked the movies under my arm before stepping onto the elevator. Wouldn't you know it, but just before the doors closed, in jumps MaryAnne* the "Everybody's My Friend!" neighbour from two floors down. You know the kind… This is the girl that is perpetually perky, nothing can ever go wrong in her world and it doesn't phase her to mindlessly ramble on about nothing to complete strangers. (Yes, much the same as blogging, I suppose).

Her: Hi there! Nice day, eh?
Me: (Crud. Here we go.) Yup.
Her: I'm so glad it's Friday. I'm SO looking forward to the weekend!
Me: (Great. Shut up, Chatty Cathy, and leave me alone. Don't you know elevator protocol? NO TALKING!) Yeah, me too.
Her: Hey, whatcha got there? Movies?
Me: (Aw shit. Why don't you mind your own business?) Uh, yep.
Her: Neat. What did you get?
Me: (Oh no!) Aliens.
Her: And the other one?
Me: (Ohshitohshitohshit. THINK!) Uh…um…Just a... Um...Mel Gibson movie for my girlfriend. (Nice save, idiot.)
Her: I love Mel Gibson! I've seen all his movies. Which one did you get?
Me: (IS THIS THE SLOWEST GODDAMNED ELEVATOR ON THE PLANET OR WHAT???) Ummm… Oh, uh… I don't know. Uh… (blank)

At this point, I know I'm completely screwed. Who rents a movie, knows the lead actor, but doesn't know the title? Not only that, but I was turning over the non-descript case in my hands, as if palm sweat would miraculously cause a title to appear. Supposedly, all I had to do was open it up and look at the title on the actual cassette!

Finally, my brain finally decided to engage and I managed to blurt out "Braveheart!". But it was too late. Seeing through my big, stupid grin, MaryAnne had been giving me a quizzical look, but all of a sudden I could see the dawning of comprehension wash over her face.

Mercifully, the elevator arrived at her floor, and as she stepped off, she turned to me and said: "Enjoy your movies."

And then winked.

The moral of today's story, kids, is quite obvious: Always take the stairs.

Looking back on this incident, I'm wondering if the elevator ride would have been any more less uncomfortable had I, instead of attemping a cover-up, just been completely honest about my movie selections and told her "Aliens, and Naughty Nympho Nurses"?

*MaryAnne may or may not be her real name. I can't remember.

Right Rights and Wrong Rights

Everybody has rights. That bugs me, because certainly not everybody deserves to have rights. But because we live in a so-called democratic society where everyone is supposed to be equal and can do as they bloody-well please, we all have to acknowledge and account for everyone's rights.

Let me tell you something…When I get to be king of the world, there are going to be some new rules. One of those rules will be "ALMOST everybody has rights."

Some examples of people who would have zero, or a very limited number of rights:

Prostitutes -- Sure, it's the world's oldest profession and it can be argued that these people are providing a community service, but last time I checked, selling sex for money and/or drugs was against the law. So when hookers start crying and complaining about how unsafe the streets are and that they need protection from stalkers, pimps and malicious tricks, my response will be exaggerated eye-rolling. Sorry, my friend. You can't criticize the way we police our streets or make demands on how we should spend our city's resources. You're a prostitute! Get thee to a jail!

Druggies -- My own city is currently in a heated, yet completely useless, debate about whether or not to provide free crack pipes and syringes to addicts. Some medical genius claims that it would reduce needle sharing and thereby reduce the spread of AIDS, Hepatitis and other diseases. Again…as I understand it, using drugs is against the law! Why should my tax dollars go to support somebody's illegal habits? Hey, here's an idea: How about we provide free AIDS and Hepatitis, thereby reducing the number of druggies?

Adult Criminals -- These are the worst complainers about their rights being infringed upon. "I want to vote from my cell! It's too cold in my cell! I don't want to take a shit in front of 4 other guys!" Boo frickin hoo. If your crime was serious enough to land you in prison, then you have effectively forfeited most of your rights, as far as I'm concerned. You get shelter, clothing, food and water -- the necessities for survival -- which is more than your murdered victims get. You don't get video games, you don't get house plants, you don't get theatre tickets. This isn't a resort. So get back to your cell, sit down on your bunk and shut the hell up until your sentence is finished.

Young Offenders -- We bend over backwards to help these societal misfits by using such fabulously dumb approaches as reduced sentences, rehabilitation programs and even by protecting their identities. Why do we need to withhold their names from the media? Because it's their 'right'? PUH-LEASE!! Tell me...What's the worst thing in the world for a teenager? Public and peer humiliation. If they commit a crime, we should be broadcasting their identities coast to coast! Shame them into going straight. The "hug-a-thug" approach doesn't seem to be working.

My ideas, while undoubtedly flawless and completely feasible, have never been, and likely never will be, implemented by our society for the simple fact that hookers, junkies and hoodlums pose a formidable lobby organization. Make any motion towards changing people's rights, and there will be outcry the likes of which no self-respecting politician could ignore.

So I guess if everyone else is going to complain about their rights, their lack of rights and/or how someone has intruded on their precious rights, then I might as well jump on the bandwagon, too.

What about my right to live an idiot-free life?!

Idle Chat

Happy New Year, boys and girls!

I don't know if you remember me or not. Hell, there are some days I don't even remember me. Took a bit of a leave of absence, but I think I'm ready to come back. At least until the Metamucil kicks in.

Let me tell you something...I'd like to start off the year with a positive story -- just for something a little different. My fine city has finally passed a bylaw prohibiting the unnecessary idling of vehicles. Of course, as with any piece of legislation, there are loop-holes as big as Kanye West's ego, but the very fact that there is a law is good news to me. The great part about this bylaw is that people are encouraged to phone the city if they see an instance of unnecessary idling. The city will then send a bylaw enforcement officer (hopefully within six to eight weeks) to speak to the offending person and provide them with some education materials about the pitfalls of idling.

It's too bad that the "education materials" will be pamphlets, rather than a baseball bat to the windshield and/or solar plexus.

So, because I really have nothing better to do, other than trying to save the planet, I will be ratting on most of the people in my neighbourhood who still believe that letting their car, van or Oversized Special Edition Gold Plated Fuel-Suckin' SUV Land-Yacht idle for 20 or 30 minutes will actually warm it up.

So what's so great about being the local squealer? The benefit comes not simply from being a good citizen and environmental steward (what some might call an eco-terrorist), but moreso from the fact that I can now affect change in behaviours from the comfort of my own home. Up to now I was forced to bundle up in my bodice-hugging cat-burglar suit and sneak out in the freezing cold under the cover of darkness to stuff potatoes into the offending tailpipes and then stand back and watch everyone scratch their heads as their vehicle continually stalls out the next morning!

It can't be simply a coincidence that the United Nations has just declared 2008 to be the Year of the Potato. As well, according to the Chinese, 2008 is the Year of the Rat.

It's fate, I tell ya! We're destined to reduce our polluting ways!