Friday, September 30, 2011

A very strong memory!

Just now, I was sitting in my office at work singing along to the radio.

The song was Billy Joel's "It's Still Rock And Roll To Me."  One of my favorite songs (and popular when I was a teenager).

Singing along to this song brought back a strong memory of using a cassette recorder to TAPE this song from the radio.  My BFF at the time and I would listen, and listen, and listen some more to try to figure out all the lyrics.  We'd scribble them down in a notebook and correct them until we were satisfied that we had them right.  Then, we'd play the tape over and over and sing along like we were rock stars.  I'm sure we were annoying as hell.

Let's see. . .

·       No CDs - You had to buy a cassette tape (or an album). If you were broke like we were, you taped most of your music off the radio. You’d spend a lot of time trying to do it without the DJ talking at the beginning or end of a song. 

·       No Walkman - Those things did come out right about that time but they were expensive. We did take the tape recorder outside to listen if we were in the back yard. That was our version of “music on the go.” 

·       No MP3 players - YIKES! That technology probably wasn’t even in anyone’s brain at that point. The Walkman was innovative for cripes sake. 

·       No Internet to download songs - You wanted music? You bought a cassette (or an album) if you had the money. Taping music from the radio was our version of Itunes or Napster. 

·       No Internet to look up lyrics - You got your lyrics from an album, cassette, or using the method I described above. That's where all the websites that show "mistaken" lyrics come from. We were guessing while listening to the radio all those years.

I just wrote about things that make me feel old.

This may just top that list!

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Things that make me feel old.

I’m in my mid-40s.  I’m proud that I made it this far.  Since I’m in a happy place with my life, I’d like to make it at least as many more years.  I don’t consider myself old.  Old to me is when you are in your 90s.  When I hit that time in my life, I’ll think old is when you are 150.

Notwithstanding, there are things that make me FEEL old:

  • Seeing the “you must be born on this date in 1990” calendars in bars.  Yikes!  You have to be born in 1990 to buy booze?  I had graduated college by then (and was already old enough to drink).  Damn.
  • My calling CDs “albums.”  I always say, out of habit, “I love that new album by Bryan Adams.”  While vinyl albums are still produced, it seems that only collectors buy them.  I guess those fancy CDs are the new-fangled thing out today.
  • Hearing songs that were popular when I was in high school on the Classic Rock station.  Classic Rock?  Isn’t that stuff like The Beatles, The Who, or The Rolling Stones?  You know, stuff that was made before I was born by artists that are older than dirt now.
  • Seeing my oldest nieces become “adults.”  They turned 22, 19, and 17 this year.  How the hell did this happen?  The 22 year old was 2 when I got married.  The 19 year old was still in mommy’s tummy.  Slow the hell down you guys!
  • Saying “those darn kids” about those darn kids who are hanging out in malls, in my neighborhood, etc.  We were at a local mall a while ago and some kids were shouting and pushing and shoving each other.  I said to Angry, “Those darn kids don’t know how to behave in public these days.”  Whoops, maybe I AM old?
  • Having hot flashes.  They suck.  That’s all I need to say about that.
  • Having to go to bed early.  I can remember staying up past 2 am several nights a week (if not every night).  I’d be able to get up and go to work the next day and feel just fine.  Now, I’m lucky if I can stay up past 9 pm and not feel like crap at work.  Hope I’m not missing too much!

I just threw this list together. I’m sure I could come up with a lot more stuff if I really thought about it. Maybe my mind isn’t working too well today. Isn’t that what “they” say? Something to the effect of, the mind is the first thing to go when you get old.  Hmmm. . .

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Really? You had to do that?

Do NOT cross the street if you have a don't walk sign (that's the big orange hand in case you were wondering!).  Especially in a busy Downtown intersection with traffic coming at you (and me waiting to make a right turn).

This means you stay on your side of the street!
And, if you decide to be the dumbass who does that; don't walk so slowly that everyone has to wait forever to get through the intersection.

That is all.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

How did I NOT get killed (or at least sustain an injury)?

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time with my cousins (remember, I was an only child).  We don’t speak anymore (maybe I’ll blog about that sometime) but back then, we were best friends.  We were together constantly.  All but one was older than me but we all considered ourselves pretty equal.  We played hard.  We probably almost killed ourselves many times and should have been, at the very least, maimed.

One of our favorite games to play was Kill The Guy Football.  We used a sidewalk as one end zone and a tree as the other.  If you somehow got possession of the football, heaven help you.  You ran as fast as you could and hoped to hell no one caught you.  If you were caught, you were subject to whatever they could come up with to remove that football from your hands.  That could include punching, kicking, hair pulling, tripping, elbowing the head or ribs, or knocking the person head over heels.  Often, we used several of those moves at the same time to get the ball.  If you were “lucky” and made it to an end zone that was just as painful.  Try diving face first onto a sidewalk and let me know how that works out for you!

Another favorite was Violence Basketball.  That game was basically the same as Kill The Guy except using a different ball.  This was often an indoor game (in the basement) so you had obstacles to navigate.  It was always a thrill to slam full speed into a washing machine or dryer.  Baskets of laundry were fun though because the clothes would fly all over and confuse your opponents.  You’d run for your life and hope that the “violence” wasn't going to be too painful.  You got caught hurt more often in this game because you had to were supposed to dribble the ball.

We also played Detective.  We’d be Starsky & Hutch, Baretta, Kojak, and occasionally the girls would be Charlie’s Angels (without a Charlie to boss us around).  Now, we were all “good guys” but we’d beat the hell out of each other to solve crimes.  Don’t ask me how that worked.  An arrest consisted of getting knocked to the ground and having someone sit on your back and pretend to put handcuffs on (while wrenching your arms backwards).  You’d hope to get caught on the grass and not on the sidewalk or in the alley.  Then, you were interrogated.  None of that bright light in your face from the detective shows, no way.  You'd get sprayed in the face with the hose or you were subjected to some sort of physical punishment until you confessed (to something).  Often, you’d get the nerve between your shoulder and your neck pinched.  Pinched real hard.

I’m not sure, as I look back now, how we survived.  Without broken bones.  Without concussions.  Without ever having to go to the ER.

We did survive.  And we had a blast doing it!

Friday, September 2, 2011

Toilet Etiquette Number 2

Get it?  Number 2?  I crack myself up.

Anyway. . .  Yesterday I gave you some rules for the bathroom.  I spoke to Angry last night and asked him if men behaved any better.  He thinks they are probably worse.  He’s obviously not been in some of the ladies rooms I’ve been in.

According to Angry, here are rules for you men to follow:

ü  When at the urinal, keep your eyes straight ahead.  Don’t sneak a peek at anyone else’s “nasty bits.”  You may not actually be doing this but it looks like you are.

ü  The urinal is not the place for a conversation.  Shut up and pee already.

ü  Do NOT throw garbage into the urinal.  Where do you think it’s going?  The small drainage holes do not allow your trash to get flushed.  Garbage cans are there for a reason.

ü  If you pee in the stall, lift up the damn toilet seat.  Don’t leave yellow droplets all over it.  Someone may actually have to sit down on that thing.

ü  Don’t paint poop graffiti in the stalls.  Who does this?  What the hell is the matter with them?  That’s rude nasty sickening.  Um, I changed my mind.  Men behave way worse than women!

Obviously, men need to follow some of the rules I listed yesterday.  Here they are in case you are too lazy to go back and read that post:

ü  Don’t talk on you cell phone in the stall.  Potty time is personal.  Keep the phone in your pocket.  What about the germs?  What do you think’s on your phone now that you used it in a public restroom stall?  Not a pleasant thought.

ü  Don’t try to hide out and smoke in a stall.  Wisconsin has a smoking ban in all public buildings.  It’s the law.  No one wants to smell like your ashtray.

ü  Flush the toilet.  Every time.  Why is there yellow or, heaven forbid, brown stuff in the bowl?  The handle is right there so use it!  This goes for the urinal as well.  No one wants to see your "debris."

ü  Wash your hands!  Every time.  Why would anyone use the bathroom and leave without using soap?  Someone is going to have to use that handle that your pee (or poop) hands just touched.  That’s uncivilized.

Men, memorize these and we’ll all be much happier!

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Toilet Etiquette

This should be simple.  I’ve come to the conclusion that it isn’t quite so for some people.

I can’t speak for men as I don’t use their bathrooms.  I’m sure there are similar problems.  I’ll ask Angry and maybe get you a list of rules about them as well.

Here are the rules; follow them.

ü  Don’t try to hide out and smoke in a stall.  Wisconsin has a smoking ban in all public buildings (lots of other states do as well).  The bathroom is part of the building (check the blueprints if you are doubting me).  We can smell you in there!  I don’t want to stink like your ashtray.

ü  Don’t talk on you cell phone in the stall.  That’s just plain WRONG.  First of all, you are confusing me.  Unless I heard your phone ring, I think you are talking to me.  Second, potty time is personal.  Keep the phone in your purse or pocket.  Third, germs!  What do you think’s on your phone now that you used it in a public restroom stall?  Not something I’d want near my face if I were you.

ü  If you are waiting for someone, move away from the door.  Everyone else thinks there’s a line waiting for a stall.  I do realize that there are some small bathrooms out there.  If you’re in one of them, let people know that you are not in line when they walk up and stand behind you to wait.  Don’t make me ask you; flag me on to relief.

ü  If you feel the need to re-do your makeup, get out of the way for people who actually want to wash their hands.  Your face can wait a minute while I clean up.

ü  Don’t spray hairspray all over everyone.  We don’t all want to be as flammable as you with that can of Aqua Net.

ü  Same rule for perfume.  Don’t spritz everyone near you.  We are not all fans of Chanel No5 and I don’t want to wear some of yours.

ü  Flush the damn toilet.  Every time.  Especially if you poop.  Why do I go into so many stalls and see yellow or, heaven forbid, brown stuff in the bowl?  The handle is right there so use it!  No one wants to see what you were doing in there.  Fact.

ü  Wash your hands!  Every time.  What would possess anyone to use the bathroom and leave without cleaning up?  Gross Disgusting!  I don’t want your pee (or poop) hands to touch the same door handle I have to use.  I wash up.  Don’t make my sink time useless.

Now that we’ve all be educated, I expect much better behavior.  Capish?