Dennis' Soap Box
Friday, February 27, 2004
 
Well my friends, day 5 of Jury Duty has ended and I'm back at my office after a long grueling day sitting in a chair even the most complacent person would complain about. The whole jury is in pain and the testimonials are no party either. For two days we've had to listen to the testimony of a very intelligent accountant who is appearing as an expert witness for the plaintiff. There is, however, one issue that makes the witness a tiny bit interesting. The witness stutters and by stutters, I mean the kind you see in commercials with Max Headroom...explaplaplaplaplaplaplaplaplanatory statements can be a struggle to listen to sometimes. In addition, the defense attorney isn't the nicest person when allowing the witness to gather his thoughts and prepare to speak. So, I don't know if this is setting the guy off a little more than usual, but it cancancancancancancan get a bit crazy sounding sometimes. I've had to wonder how the court stenographer records such testimony.

This witness aside, the Defense Attorney, is somewhat forgetful and can't remember where his notes are, what form he's referring to and whose turn it is to speak. In addition, there are times when minutes go by between questions that nothing is said. I think his record for forming a thought is five minutes. We've decided to smuggle in a stop watch to clock the clown.

I think it's time for a pint or two. I have a few gripes I'm working on, so I'll share the topics with you: gasoline, women, toilet paper, and ineptness as a method to defeat your enemies. That's all for now.


 
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
 
Ok, it's day three of the court case that I'm serving Jury Duty for and I'm about to explode. I can't go into details, less I risk being found in contempt of court and be jailed myself, but I've got to share this one episode with you. I'm going to provide you with some of the dialogue that I had to endure today. I'm couldn't record it, so I'm going to just do my best:

Attorney to a Witness: "So, what would you say is the nature of the third paragraph of page seven of the government form there in front of you, that's been marked in as Plaintiff's Exhibit 16?"

Witness: "That would be correct" (obviously no longer paying attention, since this is the 400th question he's been asked)

Attorney (very puzzled): "Would you repeat that?!"

Witness: "I said that would be correct."

Attorney: "What's correct? What question are you answering?"

Witness: "I'm sorry, can you repeat the question?"

Attorney: "uuummm....Would your owner please have the stenographer read back the question? I'm not sure I can phrase quite the same."

Judge to Stenographer: "Please read back the question."

Stenographer: "Which question?"

Judge to Attorney: "To which question are you referrring?"

Attorney: "The question with regard to the nature of the paragraph."

...stenographer reads back the question...

Witness: "I'm not sure I understand the nature of the question."

Attorney: "I'm asking you what is the nature is of the paragraph in the government form."

Witness: "What paragraph?"

Attorney (getting angry): "The third paragraph of page seven!"

Witness (after taking what seemed like an eternity to review the sentence): "I don't know."


At this point, the whole room had their heads in their hands and all the attorney could do is shake his head. I Is it me or does this have the tone of Abbott and Costello doing "Who's on First"?

There whole day was like this. The jury wants a gun to end their misery. Why do I have to serve jury duty with stupid witnesses and hours of pointless questioning?

Just give me a piece of paper, I'll give you my decision now!

 
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
 
Well my friends, I haven't blogged for a while because (1) I got tied up with things around the house over the weekend and (2) I'm now performing my civic duty and have to report for Jury Duty every day for the next two weeks. Lucky me, I got assigned to a case. I can't go into details, but it is the most boring case you could imagine. For instance, we had to watch a 45 minute tapped deposition from some West Virginia hick-billy about some business dealings he had with the defendant. The whole case revolved around the defendants business dealings and I can assure it's no Martha Stewart case. Anyway, this hick-billy was talking so slow that I swear he almost feel asleep. Really, he sat up real quick and blurted out: "I'm sorry, did you ask me a question?". The second witness couldn't be there so they read from his testimony for two hours. What excitement, huh?!?!

I'm sorry if I've offended anyone with my "hick-billy" comment and if I seem a bit angry it's because this is the fourth time I've been summoned for Jury Duty. I think I've performed enough civic duty for my life time.

I'll try to write more later this week.

 
Thursday, February 19, 2004
 
I've been on the road most of the day, so I'm getting a late start on my blog. In any case, it's time to review the Nickel Conspiracy. I'm talking about the companies that see fit to charge you $1.05, or $5.05, or $10.05 for something. Take Wawa for instance. Now, don't get me wrong. I love Wawa. I love their coffee, the gas prices, the organized stores, did I say their coffee?...great coffee. But, for their 16oz cup of coffee they charge $1.05. I don't know about the rest of you, but I HATE carrying change in my pocket, which leads to either of two problems: I have to either make sure that on days that I know I'll be on the road (usually this is when I stop for a cup of Wawa coffee) that I have change in my pocket...remember I HATE carrying change...or if I've forgotten to carry at least a nickel, I end up with $0.90 of change in my pocket.

Let's put my complete (and probably psychotic) hatred of carrying change in my pocket aside. The nickel factor is impacting us all by slowing down the line at the register. Which, if you were to count the number of people who go to Wawa every morning for coffee and the like and multiply it by the time lost searching for a nickel or waiting for someone in front of you to find a nickel, you probably have a significant level of adverse economic impact on our nations economy. Of course, I'm being a little over the top on this, but one has to justify one's argument; doesn't one.

Let's look at it another way. Perhaps it truly is a conspiracy. Wawa is a very successful store and it's not by pure dumb luck. I propose that the executives at Wawa, like me, HATE change in their pocket and one of my fellow change-in-their-pocket haters realized one dreary morning that the amount of change in your pocket can be reduced by adding more items to the number of items you are purchasing. Is it any wonder way the $0.75 breath mints and gum are right there at the register? Think about it. It MUST cost Wawa some level of their annual revenue to actually exhange all that money, both change and paper. Retail stores need to have a certain balance of change and bills on hand in order to manage their business. Someone, as simple minded as I, would figure that if they can sell more, but have to exchange less money the less they have to pay money moving companies (you know, the armored car guys) and banks to maintain their balance of coins and bills. This would also go for how fast they can move people across their register (remember the searching for a nickel thing). So, in keeping with my simple mind, it would make sense to reduce the price of things like a 16oz cup of coffee to an even $1.00. No searching for nickels and no exhanging bills for coins.

It stands to reason that these Wawa executives have had their finest minds review the issue and, since I'm still spending $1.05 on a cup of coffee, have determined that it is in fact more profitable to charge people the extra nickel.

If you look hard enough and have far enough to drive, conspiracies can be found anywhere. Your comments are welcome.


 
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
 
Today I'm going on a limb...at least in the uptight and politically sensitive U.S. I'm sure I'm going to piss some people off. That is assuming some people are going to read this. But, I'll assume the entire world is hanging on every word I type. So, here it goes. My gripe: People of Color. But, of course, it's not the people I have a gripe with, nor is it their color. I don't care what color people are. You could be purple with shocking pink hair and chartreuse eyes for all I care. It's the phrase I have a gripe with and the whole issue of prejudice. Think about it; the phrase "people of color", it's like saying "house of yellow". Unless you're speaking a Latin derived language, like Italian or Spanish, the correct phraseology is "yellow house" or in the case of my gripe; "colored people". This phrase, however probably stirs up too many connotations of a more racially violent time in America. I think people have to get over the whole thing and stop being so hung up on things.

This leads me to a related gripe and something I'm hung up on...ok, I'm trying to get over it, but it's going to take a while; reverse discrimination. This includes everything from Affirmative Action to magazines like Upscale. Just to keep it simple, let's just focus on these two issues. Affirmative Action provides ratios for publicly funded projects whereby a specific number of a particular organizations employees must be either minorities or woman. So, in my corner of the world, companies who have been awarded government contracts have to demonstrate they have employed the correct ratios of people. This rubs me wrong because it discriminates against an equally qualified white man.

These policies seem to stem from some belief that ALL white men have benefited from the earnings of some wealthy white guy who either took advantage of or benefited from the exploitation of minorities and woman. Let me give you a little personal history so you understand where I stand on the issue: my parents were blue-collar, medium to low income workers. My Dad worked as a pipefitter (where he had to mix asbestos cement by hand), a carpet and tile installer, and a vehicle inspector for the NJDMV. I don't think he ever made more than $40,000.00 a year in his entire life. He's now "retired", but works for funeral homes in the area carrying other peoples loved ones at their funerals. His Dad was, among other things, a milkman. I don't know what my great-grandfather did, because he wasn't around to raise my grandfather. My great-grandmother did it on her own. The sorted details are not something my Dad talks about. But, I'm quite certain he wasn't running some big company and raking in a gazzillion dollars a year. My Mom went back to work when my sisters and I were kids. She was a secretary for the local school. She then took another secretarial job with the town and worked her way up to assistant clerk, when she "retired". She now does the books for a small company in town. From my meager understanding of things, her Dad was an indentured servant in England before being enlisted in the English Navy. My maternal grandfather was from Ireland and didn't relish the idea of serving in the English Navy. He "jumped ship" when in the port of New York and settled in New Jersey. He was more of an entrepreneurial spirit and tried his hands at a bunch of things, which culminated with his starting his own small company selling tires and batteries. The business went under during the Great Depression. I don't know what he did after that, but I do know he passed away when my mom was 14. So you see, this white man (read: me) hasn't benefited from any previous generation of white men that exploited anyone.

Let's get onto the other issue: magazines like Upscale. I had never heard about this magazine before, but have read of others like it, and was recently (due to some extremely precise marketing) offered a free subscription. Let me quote the offer to you: "Upscale is the magazine for ambitious African Americans who want to succeed in business and in life." Super, sounds good; that is as long as your an ambitious African American. Look, I have no problem with ambitious people, but what do you think would happen if the Wall Street Journal was advertised as: "an upscale news source for ambitious white men". Now, maybe that's what people say or think it is, but it's certainly not advertised publicly like that. To do so would be tantamount to discrimination and would end up in federal court. So, why is it alright to state the converse about Upscale?

So, with all that said, I'd like to do away with phrases like "people of color" and discriminating policies like Affirmative Action. I'd like to see magazines be focused on upscaling everyone...I could use some upscaling.

I suppose, I've taken enough of your time. Your comments are welcome.

 
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
 
I just came across a blog that's written by two individuals who go by "kindofdangerous" and "Outlaw Generation" and covers all sorts of annoying issues. Go to:

What is the world coming to...

It's worth a moment of your time.
 
 
I'm sure the rest of the world slept better than I did, but that's not my gripe. Today's gripe: Natural Peanut Butter, but of course it's not actually the peanut butter, nor is it the natural part that I have a problem with. I have a problem with the way our society compares things. What I mean can be best understood by telling the following story:

It is the custom for many Christians in the U.S. (I won't speak for other nations or for all Christians) to decorate their homes with an evergreen or coniferous tree during the Christmas Season. Now, in my part of the world, people either use an actual living tree (balled) that are planted after the holidays (only a scattering of people do this), a real cut tree (either previously cut or cut the same day as they're bought) or an artificial tree (I won't go into the variety of artificials that are used). For those people who use the live or cut trees, these trees, being natural are all unique. Now, to my point; it is the norm for people to immediately comment on any "perfect" natural tree to be "so perfect it looks artificial". Consequently, the comment heard for any good looking artificial tree is that it "looks real".

This scenario also indicative to what happens in the autumn, when people (at least in my neck of the woods) search for the perfect pumpkin. Once found, the finder is usually noted saying something like: "I found the perfect pumpkin. It's so perfect, it almost looks fake.".

Now, this brings me to Natural Peanut Butter. Have any of you tried this stuff? I have. It doesn't taste like peanut butter. It tastes like, well, it tastes like peanuts! How about that, peanut butter that tastes like peanuts. The only problem is, it has the consistency of paste. Actually, I'm quite certain that in some remote societies, some resourceful (or resourceless...if you get my meaning) do use it as paste. Anyway, the peanut butter that tastes like peanut butter appears to be blended with a variety of sugars, molasses, oil, and other non-peanut items to make it taste like peanut butter. A manufacturer's TV adds would have you think their peanut butter "tastes more like real peanuts", but I don't like that argument. They could just say it tastes the best or some other arbitrary nonsense, but that might result is some sort of late night peanut butter war.

So in order to bring this to an end, my Christmas Tree looks like a fake tree, my pumpkins looks like real pumpkins and the peanut butter that occupies a space in my cabinet tastes like pasty peanuts.

Have a nice day all.

 
Monday, February 16, 2004
 
I've added a new link for a site written by Robert Recchia, who lives somewhere in this beautiful State I live in: New Jersey. The site is call the The Garden State and Mr. Recchia's information sources seem unending. I hope you enjoy his writings as much as I do.
 
 
Well folks, its Monday. I hope you all had a wonderful weekend and Valentine's Day. My weekend was so-so and was mainly spent trying to take care of my youngest son, who is sick with some sort of mega-snot-producing inflammation of the upper respiratory tract. In any case, I had little time to do any blogging and both my wife and I were lucky to actually sleep through the night.

So, that's get to my gripe: WELL MEANT GIFTS. It is, of course, not the gifts, but the repercussion of even the most welling meant gifts. I'd like to share with you all an incident that happened just last week at my house. But, first I'll share with you a little history. I spent a great deal of my youth camping, hiking, fishing and otherwise in the outdoors. In addition, I've always liked a nice camp fire or even a nice fire in the fireplace. Now jump ahead twenty years to the present. I'm forty-two, married to a woman who's idea of camping is going to the Holiday Inn and we have two children; one almost six and one almost two.

This past Christmas, my parents, who I love dearly and without question, gave my wife and I an outdoor fireplace. For those of you who haven't seen these things; they are raise platforms constructed of metal on which you can build a fire, but include a grate all the way around to provide some suggestion of safety. My parents, knowing how much I enjoy a nice fire, are of course very excited about the gift. I too, upon first impression, am equally excited. That is until I looked over to see the expression on my wife's face. I surely did not ask her what she was thinking in front of my parents and let the issue die.

Time passes and its now January. I had taken some time during a weekend when it wasn't below freezing out to assemble...oh, did I forget to mention the fireplace came unassembled...the fireplace on the patio directly outside our back door. My thinking was, my wife and I could perhaps sit outside when the weather began to get warmer, but not warm enough, and enjoy a nice little fire. My wife, however, being the ever cautious mother (for those of you who are not married with kids, the cautiousness that a human mother exudes is perhaps only comparable to that wild she-moose guarding her young from attacking wolves) immediately wants to know "where is that thing going to live". I don't answer and the subject passes without incident mainly because its so ungodly cold out that the kids are not spending more that fifteen minutes outside and haven't wandered close to the fireplace yet.

Jump to the present. Last week my parents came over for dinner. While we were waiting for them come over, I took my sons outside to play in the yard. My eldest son asked when were we going to use the fireplace. I, thinking it would be nice to show my parents the fireplace is being used, decided to get a fire started. All started well. Then the wind changed direction ever so slightly but just slightly enough to direct any and all smoke that billowed from the fireplace directly towards the back door and window over the kitchen sink, which my wife had opened to cool off the kitchen. My wife, being the understanding and controlled person she is, doesn't say a word, and just looks at me and shuts the window. I let the fire die down and go out.

This leads to the next day, which happened to be Saturday and my day to perform my weekly chores and house remodeling. Maybe some of you see this coming, but the first thing my wife wants to know is "where is that thing going to live". I'm a little frustrated because "the thing" was a gift from my parents, but it is obvious that it can't "live" on my back patio. My wife keeps pressing me to tell her where its going to be moved to and when do I envision us EVER using it. I'm not the calmest person at times, so in my frustrated phase of mind, I blurt out "I'll just take it to the town yard and dump it!". At this point my wife goes off on a tirade about my attitude and tells me what to do with the fireplace...I won't mention it here, but let's just say it's a dark, smelling place. She leaves the room rather quickly and goes to fold laundry and take a shower or something. My youngest son is crying from the intense noise he's just experienced and my eldest wants to know "what's wrong with Mom?"...he hadn't heard my early statement or my mutterings.

To bring this blithering to a close, the fireplace is now resting quietly in the back recesses of my yard, probably never to be used again. The point I'm trying to make here is even the heartfelt gift can have the most intense impact on life. I suppose I should have sat back and thought out the whole scenario of the fireplace BEFORE I opened the box. Hindsight is 20/20 and mine's getting sharper by the minute.

 
Friday, February 13, 2004
 
My friend Lori, who has started a new blog with recipes (Mangia Mia) sent me this and I thought it was worth sharing.

FRIENDSHIP PRAYER

May the fleas of a thousand camels infest the
crotch of the person who screws up your day
and may their arms be too short to scratch...

AMEN
 
 
I just returned from taking my truck (I drive a White 1994 Ford F150 Pickup) to the shop. Let me give you a little history. About a month ago I paid $1,300 to have all new shocks and ball joints put in. When I first got it, it felt GREAT! Upon leaving the shop, my truck road smooth...real smooth...better than ever. Then about 2 weeks ago I started noticing a bunking or thunking or some kind of unking noise in the front, kind of to the right. I thought, well the guy did say these are heavy duty gas shocks and they will probably ride rougher than what was on there before and I'm probably just used to the old "feel". Then yesterday I was driving back from a job site and I hit a little pot hole with the front right wheel. The front end of the truck started shaking and there was a definite THUNK! I took it to the shop on the way back, but the guy didn't have time to look at it and asked very politely for me to come back today.

I knew something was amiss! THERE WAS BOLT MISSING FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE RIGHT FRONT SHOCK!! Now, the way I see it the only way this could have happened is if the guy FORGOT to put the nut on the bolt to begin with. I have a few questions: (1) Where is the original nut? I did notice a few nuts on the floor of the shop when the guy took me in to show me the problem. (2) Don't mechanics wonder where those spare nuts on the floor come from? In any case, they fixed it at no cost and there were no other damage. My trusty steed is doing fine.

 
 
Hello all. Not much griping in me this morning. I didn't sleep well. I watched ER last night with my wife. I've got to stop watching things like this. The show included this family that was in a car accident. The husband and little boy were critically injured and both died. The boy was just about scalped. The mother was frantic and didn't know who to go to first and to top it off, the EMT folks sent her daughter to a different hospital. Alright, I know this just television and it didn't really happen. But, I have two sons, Michael and John. Both are my pride and joy in life. All I kept thinking was that it was one of my boys and my wife lying there. It tears me up. I'm a bit of a sap that way. Things affect me. On the contrary, my wife is stone cold. It's probably from years of watching shows on the Lifetime Network, where family members and injured and killed off at an alarming rate (now there's something to talk about...I feel a gripe coming!). So, she become immune to it. She could watch anything and not get upset. Watching ER last night kept me awake most of the night...I've got to find something else to do on Thursday nights.

 
Thursday, February 12, 2004
 
EMERGENCY POSTING: Something just came across my desk that just has to be shared. From the one and only Liquid Generation comes something truely perplexing: THE MYSTERY OF BRITNEY SPEARS BREASTS.

I'm telling you folks, she's well on her way to a lucrative career as a porn star!

 
 
Oh, one more posting for today: On February 5th, I querimoniously took a pole under the gripe Pop Singers Who Can't Sing as to when is someone going to tell Britney Spears that she can't sing? By all accounts, it appears most people are in favor of her quitting her singing career and becoming the porn star that she seems to want to be. Based on the looks of her new video, she's almost there. I'll still waiting for the issue to gain as much media exposure as Janet Jackson's right nipple.


 
 
Today I'm going to revisit the issue of Recycling. I was told the other day that recycling facilities only take plastic materials that have been classified as a 1 or 2. The classifications are based on ease of recycling, the lower the number the easier it is to recycle. So, I started to pay attention at the materials that I've been throwing into the recycle been. I noted that in fact most of the items I have been recycling are classified as 1's and 2's, but there is also a large number of items with no numbers on them and many classified as number 5's. The unnumbered items include old Tupperware containers that have lost their shape or their lids and are only useful as containers for loose nuts and bolts or other loose items. Many, however are not the right size or shape and therefore have gone into the recycle bin. I have no idea what plastic these items are made from, but it seems they should be classified and should be recyclable. The other items include the plastic containers that are used in this part of the world for Chinese Food Take-out. Now, these are possibly the most useful containers ever to grace the cabinets of America. I'd much rather use one of these containers in lieu of a $15.00 Tupperware container. However, these items are classified as #5, making them harder to recycle. I did a little research and found that #5 are made of polypropelene. Since when is polypropelene NOT recyclable? Can't these be reprocessed into ski socks or something?

Ok, now to get back to where I started: many recycling facilities only take plastics that are classified as #1 or #2. So, items such at the ever useful, are almost indestructible Chinese food containers end up in our nations landfills. That is after they've been used for storing other leftovers, nuts, bolts, rubber bands, kids crayons and other items. I'm going to go out on a limb and make a prediction, mark my words, in 30, 40, or 50 years some entrepreneurial soul is going to buy an old landfill and mine it to recover the resources that have been discarded for the last 100 years. Just think about the quantities of refined materials that lay in wait.

Well, that's it for my ramblings today.


 
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
 
Good morning to all. I don't necessarily have a gripe today, nor should this be construed as a commentary on today's society. What I'd like to write about (and perhaps get some feed back on) is The Best Way. I'm talking about the times when you and your spouse get in the car and head off to some destination for dinner or just to run an errand. This is the way it normally goes in my car with my wife: We get in the car and I back out of the driveway. I turn right to head out of our neighborhood and down the lane to the main road. Say I make a left, which in my case sets us heading east towards a traffic signal. I proceed through the signal and my wife says: "Why are you going this way?" My response typically goes like this: "Uhh, umm, I...what's wrong with this way? Back comes: "It's not the best way. At which point, I'm left with the option of either locking up the brakes, swinging the car around to take the best way or proceeding on my chosen path in the hopes that all goes well...because should the slightest incident occur; whether it be slow traffic, a stone thrown up onto the windshield, or perhaps ending up behind some blue-haired woman who prefers to drives 30 mph below the posted speed limit; I'll have to hear about the fine attributes of the best way for the duration of the drive.

I've now started...this is after 10 years of marriage...to instinctively ask: "Which way should I go?" as I approach an intersection. This of course takes responsibility for the success and timeliness of our drive completely out of my hands, but it also makes me feel like a mindless automoton and takes away some of the adventure of just going any old way you want.

Am I alone in my plyte?


 
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
 
Another day, another gripe. But, before I get started, I just want to tell everyone that in my part of the world the day looks to be a good one. It's forecasted to be about 50 degrees and the sun is shining. This is a marked improvement from the 20 degree weather we have been having and thank God, Allah, the Great Pumpkin and who ever else people pray to, that it's not snowing!

Ok, now for my gripe: Mad Cow Disease. In order to stay true to form, it is of course not actually the disease that I have a problem with. My gripe is with Livestock Feed. I'd like to know who the braintrust was that thought up the idea of feeding livestock (read: herbivore) the processed remains of dead livestock. I can't seem to get an actual list of all the ingredients in standard livestock feed. But, I've read that it includes many materials that I think most people would find unbelievable. For instance, I don't have a problem with this, but most feed includes kiln dust or the by-product dust of making concrete cement. This may sound ridiculous, but the actual contents of kiln dust actually provides minerals needed by the livestock to build healthy bones and tissues. But, feeding herbivores what amounts to processed meat is going a tad too far. I don't claim to be a genius (well maybe I do after a couple of pints), but wouldn't it make more sense to use the processed remains from animals to create fertilizer to grow grain...kind of what they used to and some organic farmers still do with bonemeal. This grain could then could be fed to our livestock.

This may have too many repercussions on the bottom line of petrochemical companies that produce chemical fertilizers and could upset the balance of power worldwide. This may also allow grain farmers to sell more grain to livestock farmers, which could offset the government subsidies that the grain farmers get to NOT grow grain.

I could go on and on about this one and I may have to revisit this in the future. It also leads to another commentary I have to make, but that's for another day.

Enjoy the day, where ever you are.

 
Monday, February 09, 2004
 
Today's Gripe: Bottled Water. It's a sad state of affairs that our water supplies have become such vesicles of chemistry that its taste is better compared to that of a public swimming pool, but that's the way it's become. I'm sure our grandparents would shudder to know that people are spending upwards of $10.00 for a case of bottled water. Water which, by the way, is often no more than tap water that has been run through an activated carbon filter.

All should remember that this dilemma is something that we've brought onto ourselves. The sources used to provide us with drinking water have become so contaminated with bacteria, cysts and other pathogens that it's necessary to subject the water to extensive chemical bombardment. This has a lot to do with the way livestock is raised (which brings to mind another gripe, but let me stay focused), the way they're fed, the way we dispose of their excrement and the way fertilizers are used on our crops.

Some have suggested using non-chemical water treatment or dechlorinating it (using activated carbon or air stripping) before passing it along down the system of pipes that lead to our taps. What is not considered here however is that the distribution systems (the pipes) are in their own right breeding grounds for the pathogens, thus making it necessary to super-chlorinate the water before distribution.

I don't pretend to have an easy answer to this problem...just a gripe.

Before I go, I left home this morning before the Recycling Cop showed up. So, I don't know if my lawn is strewn with unrecyclable recyclables. It is quite windy today, so maybe I'll have the honor of picking my neighbor's discarded pet food container tonight when I get home from work.


 
Sunday, February 08, 2004
 
Ok, the day is here: Recycling Day and my gripe: Recycling. Of course, it's not actually the act or process of recycling that I have a gripe with, just some aspects of it; like my "friendly neighborhood recycling guy", who I affectionately refer to as the Recycling Cop. In my part of the world, recycling of certain materials is mandatory. One day each week, we are required to place our collected recyclables out at the curb. I'm luckier than most, in my town we can commingle plastic, glass and metal containers all in one bin. Only card board and paper need to be bundled separately.

Now my gripe; our Recycling Cop takes it upon himself to sort through each bin and discard what he feels is unacceptable recyclables onto my lawn. Please note, that if I were to toss something on anyone's lawn it would be considered littering and I could possibly be fined or jailed. I haven't quite figured out this guys modus operande, but it seems he has some extra enthusiasm associated with sorting otherwise unmentionable materials during his daily drive around town. In any case, on windy days it is often the case that my neighborhood is strewn with unrecyclable recyclables or at the very least there is a pile found on many lawns. I know these materials are recyclable because someone smarter than I has imprinted a recycling symbol on the bottom of the container.

I should say that I'm a devout recycler. I believe in it wholeheartedly. I just have a gripe with someone who should simply pick up the bin and dump it in the truck. Why can't the guy leave the sorting to someone else up the line, who won't throw things on my lawn? Somethings will never be answered.

I'll probably have more to say about this in the future, but I hear my youngest son screaming and his mother speaking in a very controlled voice to his older brother about sharing couch space. So, I'd better go put the fire out. I hope everyone has had a great weekend.
 
Saturday, February 07, 2004
 
Today's Gripe: metal screws. Well, I'm sure it's not all metal screws that are to blame for my bad mood, just the small metal screws that came with the new hardware that I bought to renovate my kitchen with. I'm talking about the small metal wood screws that are used to fasten hinges to cabinet doors. At least half dozen of these little pieces of fine workmanship snapped off on me and this was after drilling guide holes for them. I finally ended up reusing the old screws that I took off the old hinges. It seems screws made 30 years ago must not have been made by some company that wants to put out poor grade products.

On a completely unrelated issue, my friend Martyn (see the link to "The Crox Spot") had a very interesting comment the other day on the classification of nearly every black (dare I say) artist that shows up now-a-days as a Rhythm and Blues artist. I keep thinking about his review of the issue, how right he is, and just how did the music industry get so screwed up. I'm sure we'll never find the answer.

That's all for now!
 
Friday, February 06, 2004
 
Well it's Friday and today's gripe is: people who complain about Monday's and who can't wait for Friday. Can't these people see that their just rushing their lives away? Why not enjoy every day no matter what its like? All I ask is that our creator (whatever you want to call him/her/it) allow me another day to wake up in the morning and have my family and friends around me...well, I have to honest, I could do with no more snow this year. I'm a bit tired of shoveling. But, hey I did get to go sledding with my son Michael (John is too young) and to see him laugh after flying down the hillside was just about as good as it gets.

So, I'm hoping that people will stop complaining about Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or any day and just relax, look at every day as another day they can enjoy themselves, learn something (I firmly believe you should learn something everyday), maybe have a pint of your favorite brew or glass of your favorite vintage, and maybe share some good food with your family and friends. In any case, just enjoy life as it is. You only live once and there's not point in wishing it away.

So, that's my gripe for today. I've got another gripe floating around in my head: recycling, but that's for another day.
 
Thursday, February 05, 2004
 
For all of you who read my gripes and wish to read some equally interesting dribble from a friend from England you can click on his link that I've added to this page. He's named his blog "If you'd rather be playing golf...", but I've unofficially given it the name: The Crox Spot. I only hope Martyn doesn't mind.

Happy gripes to you all.
 
 
TODAY'S GRIPE: MARRIAGE Once again, it's not marriage that's actually my gripe, but the control some people are placing on others with the use of the word and the union it represents. What I'm getting to to here is the current "crisis" that has arisen from same sex marriages.

Although marriage is defined as "The legal union of a man and woman as husband and wife" (source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary), a question has to be asked: "Do not same sex couples love each other as much?" Isn't that what marriage is about; the union of two individuals who love each other with such passion that they choose to be united "until death do them part"?

There may be some religious reasons why people want to control the lives of others, but I see only a couple of reasons why anyone would limit the union to a man and woman: (1) economics and (2) control.

There are certain legal bindings that occur when a couple marries. Their financial worth is combined and should something happen to one, the other is entitled to, in most cases, the holdings of the couple. I don't see anything to be gained by limiting the union of two people who obviously love each other regardless of their sexual inclinations. But, why else would it matter to people who have no relation to the same sex couple if these people wish to be joined in the union of matrimony and why should anyone wish to limit their union?

That leaves control. Some people just think that everyone should think the way they do. I've said it before and I'll say it again: live and let live...and that means allowing other people who don't think like you to live and love the way they choose.

That's all for now.
 
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
 
TODAY'S GRIPE: TAXES Well, it's not taxes that I have the gripe with. I understand that for our nation to exist and provide the services that we ask for or dare I say desire, then someone has to pay the bill and that means us. What I have a gripe with is the incomprehensible language and/or word games used by the people who write tax code and tax programs. Why is it when you read these things you need to reread the same sentences two and three times to comprehend their meaning? Their sentence structure is full of enough double negatives and third person references to send a linguist into the night screaming.

I worked on my taxes last night, which may be late for some and way too early in the year for others, and for the life of me I couldn't finish because all the forms aren't standardized and what is asked for on one form is not what it is called on another form. It's like when someone asks you to pass the coffee mug, when you know it as a coffee cup. Praise to the companies that use forms with numbered squares that coincide with what is asked for on the tax forms!! "Insert dollars from section 10 on W2 here".

Could someone please tell me if my State tax refund is considered taxable income or not?!?!?! PLEASE Just thinking about it gives me a headache! I was so angry by 10:30 that its amazing I slept at all.

Well, that's it for now. Thanks to Martyn for the suggestions. His blog can be found at www.crox.blogspot.com. He has some interesting things to say about golf and people in general. Martyn, I'm not done yet! :)

 
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
 
Not a gripe. Just some quotes from Andy Rooney that I thought were great!

1. Andy Rooney on Monica.

Can you believe it? Monica turned 28 this week. It seems like only
yesterday that she was crawling round the White House on her hands and knees.

2. Andy Rooney on Vegetarians.

Vegetarian - Isn't that an old Indian word meaning "lousy hunter".

3. Andy Rooney on Prisoners.

Did you know that it costs forty thousand dollars a year to house each prisoner? Jeez, for forty thousand bucks a piece I'll take a few prisoners into my house. I live in Los Angeles. I already have bars on the windows. I don't think we should give free room and board to criminals. I think they should have to run twelve hours a day on a treadmill and generate electricity. And, if they don't want to run, they can rest in the chair that's hooked up to the generator.

4. Andy Rooney on Fabric Softeners.

My wife uses fabric softener. I never knew what that stuff was for.Then I noticed women coming up to me, sniffing, then saying under their breath, "Married!" and walking away. Fabric softeners are how our wives mark their territory. We can take off the ring. But, it's hard to get that April Fresh scent out of your clothes.

5. Andy Rooney on morning differences.

Men and women are different in the morning. We men wake up aroused in the morning. We can't help it. We just wake up and we want you. And the women are thinking, "How can he want me the way I look in the morning?" It's because we can't see you. We have no blood anywhere near our optic nerve.

6.Andy Rooney on cripes

My wife's from the midwest. Very nice people there. Very wholesome. They use words like 'Cripes' 'For Cripes sake.' Who would that be; Jesus Cripes? The son of 'Gosh' of the church of 'Holy Moly'? I'm not making fun of it. You think I wanna burn in 'Heck'?

7. Rooney on Grandma

My grandmother has a bumper sticker on her car that says, 'Sexy Senior Citizen.' You don't want to think of your grandmother that way, do you? Out entering wet shawl contests. Makes you wonder where she got that dollar she gave you for your birthday.

8. Rooney on answering machines.

Did you ever hear one of these corny positive messages on someone's answering machine? "Hi, it's a great day and I'm out enjoying it right now. I hope you are too. The thought for the day is: "Share the love." BEEP "Uh, yeah...this is the VD clinic calling....Speaking of being positive, your test results are back. Stop sharing the love.."


Well, that's it for today!
 
 
New Gripe: Pigeon Holes and Labels. This is a quick one. Why do people always have to label people and put them into some sort of compartment. What is wrong with everyone just being individuals with their own identities and quirks. I for one see no reason why people have to be pigeon holed. I heard at lunch today of some author that has labeled herself and people like her "Quirky Alones". These are people who choose to remain single and not marry or join with another human being. I say live and let live. Everyone is different and everyone deserves to do what they want (within reason) and not be questioned or judged.

More to come...
 
 
Today's Gripe: The Media Hype over Janet Jackson and what the FCC is doing. Why are they making such a big deal about Janet Jackson's breast being flashed during the half-time show. I would submit that she has shown more of her body in her videos and more of the general public's body can be seen during the Summer at any resort that what was shown the other day.

I've heard it said that the FCC's Powell is actually forming an investigative council to "look into the issue". What a waste of money. If there is something that should warrant the expenditure of the FCC's money is the present state of advertisements and TV shows that are targeted to our nation's youth. Half of what is shown on the Cartoon Network are very violent. Shows like Tnunami and others show nothing except fighting and preparing to fight. I would say that even shows that are presented on the Disney Channel are a bit riske' and should be watched closely by parents. There are shows on in the early evening that depict scantily clad girls dancing around and singing in rock groups. Now, don't get me wrong. It may sound like I'm being a prude, but I have no problem with scantily clad woman, but including scantily clad girls in shows targeted to very young viewers is inappropriate...in my humble opinion.

I know that some people would say: "If you don't like what's on a certain channel, then don't watch it!" But, I'm not talking about an adult making decisions about the shows that are viewed in the home. Most parents can't police the TV all the time and when a parent approved show ends it is may be followed by an unapproved show. Perhaps, TV shows should have ratings and maybe they do and I'm ignorant.

Well, I guess that's it for now. More to follow.


 
Sunday, February 01, 2004
 
Ok, this my first entry and I have a few issues that I want to gripe about: media coverage of the democratic front runner for President race and Pop Singers who can't sing.

Does anyone know what these guys (and maybe gals, if there are any that haven't received media coverage) stand for? I mean has the media actually spent any real time covering what their platforms are? where the differ? what they agree on? All I hear on the radio and on TV and read in the newspaper is who is getting more primary votes, who is leading the race, who has made a public ass out of himself and who is focusing his campaign where. But, I haven't heard squat about what they believe in, what they plan to do, or what kind of changes they plan to make.

Well, I just returned from a meeting and had about a half hour to listen to NPR (that's National Public Radio for the unadvised) and got a ear full of some information on the democratic candidates. He's what I've learned: Dean is cocky and it's costing him the race, Kerry plays the guitar, skis and snowboards...I kind of like that, and Sharpton knows he's not going to win but is running some sort of what I would term a "race based initiative" and just wants to make a point. So, with the exception of Sharpton, I still don't know what any of the candidates stand for.

I'm waiting for some guy to stand up and tell us what he/she actually believes in. Maybe like they think we all have the right to be free, happy and without concern that some jerk is going to screw up everyone's day. But, that will never happen. Maybe someone should run of platform of free beer (if you don't like beer your preferred beverage is severely discounted), a four day work week and socialized medical treatment including prescription medication.

My other gripe for today is Pop Singers Who Can't Sing. When is someone going to tell Britney Spears that she can't sing? All those in favor of her quitting her singing career and becoming the porn star that she seems to want to be, please raise their hands....OK, it's settled. Britney Spears should start, what I'm sure would be, a very lucrative career as a porn star. She's almost there.


Finally, the following isn't a gripe, but has a lot to do with the common sense that doesn't exist anymore...at least around where I live (New Jersey):

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.

The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?" "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs.. I have a full life."

The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you!

You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat. With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers.

Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American.

"And after that?"

"Afterwards? That's when it gets really interesting," answered the American, laughing. "When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really? And after that?"

"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta, and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends."


Everyone should sleep late, take a siesta, and enjoy their family and friends!...I should take this more to heart...I'm sure my wife and sons would appreciate it!

Well that's it for now!


 
My commentary about the lack of common sense in society and other gripes by Dennis Hayes.

If ANYONE would like to contribute to my gripes or contact me, send an e-mail to:

E-MAIL ME

or you can leave me a comment:

I look forward to hearing from you!

LINKS

Good Music
More Good Music
The Crox Spot
Mangia Mia
The Garden State
What is this world coming to...
Aged and Confused
F Train
Jack The Grocer

ARCHIVES

02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004
03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004
04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004
05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004
06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004
08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004
06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005
10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005
12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006
03/01/2015 - 04/01/2015

Powered by Blogger

Weblog Commenting by HaloScan.com