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Showing posts from October, 2011

An Unsolicited Rant on a Pet Peeve

In this day and age when one of the number one adult complaints is that kids are on their cell phone or computer all the time, what’s the deal with teaching them that getting the maximum amount of candy with the minimum amount of interaction is a good deal? Yes, I speak of Trunk or Treat, Satan’s plan to take out possibly the only redeeming quality of a day devoted to skeletons and witches: time spent going to the neighbors with your parents in the dark in one of the best seasons of the year. Honestly, I feel like our neighborhood is as full of drug dealers and pedophiles as any in America (with the possible exception of everywhere else in America), and I am as confident as anyone that death lurks at every corner. But when I read about kids in New York and Chicago who get to go Trick or Treating, I get jealous. My friends in Denver and LA are walking their kids up and down their block teaching them that their neighbors are ordinary people, not treacherous goblins that nee...

Dang, am I in your lane?

If you are involved in law enforcement, you might want to avert your eyes now. I’m here to say I go seventy on I-15. I slow down for the work areas because that “double the fine” sign impresses me a lot. And I go sixty-five at 11 at night because I’m tired. But, occasionally, I go more than seventy. I know seventy is counted as speeding because I have a good memory, and I’ve had to take those classes that take points off your record when you get a ticket. I’ve taken them three times. One time I took it twice in a year and a half. I’m not sure how that happened, but I was glad not to have to discuss our insurance rate with the Big Boss. The one I’m married to who drives his truck like it was a covered wagon. Did you know that if you take the two-hour class and get another ticket, you can take a four-hour class? You would not believe the people at the four-hour class! They are creepy. Except for me. And the other lady my age who kept telling the cop ...

Husbands v. Girlfriends

You hear men sometimes say their wives are their best friends. This is just crazy. It implies that a man would actually have a best friend with whom he shared intimate conversations about his feelings, men he would go to lunch with and spend afternoons wondering if, among other things, other people really like him, or if it’s okay to buy that cute three button jacket. But any wife who calls her husband her best friend is not being completely honest with herself, although she may think he’s swell. Men are wonderful companions and fathers, confidants of the highest order, and capable of great understanding; they’re just not that particular animal known as A Girlfriend. The most obvious quality of a girlfriend is that she always knows you’re right, even when it’s a different right than it was yesterday or last week. The fluid nature of women’s understanding of the ups and downs of life are part of what makes them so able to solve problems sensibly and quickly. Girlfriends see that how...