Here’s the good thing about Daylight Savings: you get one more hour of sleep…if you’re single and childless. Wow.
Here’s the bad: if you work, you have to work more. If you like the hour, you lose it in six months, so don’t wet your pants yet, Skippy. The unnecessary time shift makes it so the sun sets at 5:30-6:30 for the entire winter/late fall, so when 80% of the country gets off work, it’s pitch black. NO ONE NEEDS THE SUN UP THAT EARLY, FARMERS WORK LATE ALSO. Plus how many farmers are involved in this decision? How many non-farmers? I’m all for farmers, but even if every single one needs daylight savings, hows about we all chip in and buy them head lamps and keep the sun from being forced to set before we know what food we shove down our gullets that evening.
Daylight savings stinks and if you like it, you’re a vampire and we should hunt you down during the five minutes of sun we have now and drive a stake into your tiny, little heart.
We signed up our daughter for a sports class. She is learning basic fundamentals, listening to a coach and most importantly, burning off any and all extra energy so Mom and Dad can sleep. There’s a younger class just before ours and after watching it, the coach should get a medal. It’s 2-3 year olds running around like they’re on fire, but enjoying it. He has to corral them and attempt to teach them to kick and jump. I’d rather train a cobra to be leash trained.
One kid stood out as we waited for the class to end. He was sprinting around screaming, “DON’T EAT MY FOOTBALL!” His dad was half-assed following him around while his mom kept yelling, “Scott! Scott! Scott! Scott!” and pointing at the kid. The dad had this look on his face like he was one more “Scott!” away from going to the store for smokes and never coming back. Finally, Scott had to chase down the other kid they had and his son that was really worried about his football becoming a snack ran up and ripped the last ball from another small kid, who began scream crying, “HE TOOK MY BALL!!!” The mugging was swift and violent and the mugged kid’s mom came over to console him. Scott’s wife started up with another round of Scott! Scott! but he was taking the other kid to the potty.
What happened next was like out of a movie. She stood up, looking left and right as if for a sign, then shuffled over to her son and weakly muttered something about taking a ball. Her kid looked at her and took off. She then meekly approached the victim of the highwayman son she made and whispered, “Sorry.” Then she went and sat down. It was like the polar opposite of the hillbilly lady at Wal-Mart that is smacking her kool-aid stained heathens. It didn’t work, in case you were wondering. The meltdown wasn’t appeased by the sentiment.
Make my kid apologize? Nah, that will just agitate the beast. Take the ball away to show him it’s not rewarding to take a toy like Hitler annexed Czechoslovakia in 1938? Nope, Neville Chamberlain mom has got this! Appease and hope it goes away. If you are reading about a monster teen knocking off liquor stores in 14 years, I think I know who it is. Now excuse me as I research how much whiskey you can give a 20 month old, my son has woke up at 1:30-3 am for five straight nights.
Monday night I was part of the “Last Realtor Standing.” It’s a show/fundraiser where local realtors pair up with a coach and perform stand-up comedy. I’ve done it three times and “we” won once only because my partner removed his shirt and did a headstand. I didn’t coach that part, so in other words, my quarterback called an audible and we won the game.
I also did a set after my coachee or whatever the term is and had a great set, finished up and went to grab a beer. A man approached me fairly quickly afterwards. “Do you guys do this…you’re local right?” Yes, I began to explain I live in Columbus and before I got much else out he said, “Like here? I’ve never seen you and I come here all the time.” The little enthusiasm I have for talking to strangers evaporated like a drop of sweat in the desert. We are not off to a good start.
I started to explain more of what I do just out of the need to move to the conversation forward and he spoke again, “I mean do you guys coach comedy, like all the time? Like, can I hire you?” Now, ten years ago, I would have talked to this idiot for an hour and tried to set something up. I may be less ambitious now, but I am way more experienced. I asked flat out, “Have you ever been onstage?” “No, that is what I need help with. I’m terrified of going up.” This is the biggest annoyance of doing comedy. I have wasted more time with people who “want to try comedy” than anything and they NEVER get onstage.
“Well, if you can’t get onstage, there’s no use wasting my time or yours.” He looked dejected, much as I probably looked talking in circles with him. “I just need help getting up there.” So I offered this, “I used to give out advice all the time, but if you can’t get onstage at an open mic in front of 15-20 people, there’s no point in wasting my time or yours. If you told me you did it once, I would give you tips for free. Here’s my only advice about getting up there: no one wants to do it. Everyone in the crowd is also terrified of being onstage, they give you a bit of respect as long as you don’t blow it. If you can just do it, trust me, no one will remember your name good or bad after one set unless you take your pants off or punch the emcee.” He didn’t look satisfied. “So you wouldn’t coach me for a fee?” “No chance. I would be stealing your money. If you can’t get onstage, it’s wasting our time to talk about what you would do up there.” He walked away awkwardly and said thanks. If he and I both live to be 150, he will still never get onstage. I guarantee it.
My wife and I had a little anniversary getaway and we had a nice time, great food, and even had time for little something different: a ghost hunt. By the end, I was more scared of the people in our group than the angriest phantasm on this world or the next.
My group’s worst offenders as we walked into a dark cemetery were the following: drunk bachelor party, extremely loud older lady asking dumb questions like she was trying to ruin the trip, guy who believed a little too much in ghosts and everyone else. How it worked was we got a rundown of the history for about an hour, then dousing rods were used. Basically they moved into an x for yes, stayed straight for no. I don’t know who came up with this, like the international ghost hunter union met with representatives of the afterlife and there were memos sent out, but that’s the deal. Only yes or no, kind of hard to answer otherwise when you’re manipulating rods.
The guide, who was constantly apologizing for things she didn’t need to, was asking the group to come up with a question for the ghost/spirit in question and loud lady yelled, “Who’s birthday is it?” You have one chance to communicate with the great beyond and you want to play carny games. Good job, I’m sure the spirit has been roaming the earth for 1000 years so it can predict Esther’s 59th birthday.
The other guy kept trying to get involved and asking things like, “Are the spirits here? What’s the science behind this?” You just asked two different questions there, chief. If there are spirits roaming around, there’s probably not a scientific consensus and our guide isn’t exactly breaking down charts over here, she’s got two copper rods and a mini Mag-light.
It was actually interesting to hear the history, even though as I mentioned, the guide was saying things like, “This man passed in 1858…or maybe it was 1857. Actually maybe 1856.” Just make it up, lady, the six guys chugging moonshine out of solo cups aren’t going to fact check you tomorrow morning. The flashlight began to dim with no one holding it and the EKG meter or whatever it was went nuts once, which prompted loud lady to yell at the ghost to do more and true believer guy to lose his mind. By the end, I didn’t care if some apparition ravaged the group as long as they took loud lady back down into hell with them. Maybe we will do a private hunt next time. For the bar.
I’m no pollyanna about what most major corporations will do for money. Not for people either. Recently a lady had a relative of mine sign marriage paperwork against his knowledge in an attempt to scam an elderly man of his money (the marriage was annulled, criminal prosecution to follow soon). It’s really pathetic, however, to watch the NBA, a league swimming in cash, to bow to the communist dictatorship in China.
For those not watching, China is moving against the sovereignty of Hong Kong, which has more rights than mainland China per an agreement with the British. China is attempting to extradite residents of Hong Kong for trials, aka do what China does best – stampede its own. China currently oppresses Muslims and Christians, restricting religious freedom and going so far as to imprison and restrict communication devices among the groups. They prevent any free speech and execute with reckless freedom. They are the world leaders in spying on their own citizens, recently creating a “social score” based on loyalty to Xi, their dictator and there are countless stories of the government’s corruption. For the US, they ruthlessly acquire the assets of companies that do business in China by making it a requirement for doing business in their country. It then retools that tech for their military, which is threatening expansion in several areas.
Hong Kong has been a hotbed of protest with the oppression and recently the GM of the Houston Rockets tweeted support for the people of Hong Kong. Suddenly, Rockets aplenty, from their star player to the owner, sent out support tweets every which way to Sunday. China’s response? Like a good little oligarchy, they banned the preseason broadcasts as the NBA scrambled for the money over standing up for one city (or even one tweet). This is really pathetic and it takes my personal interest in the NBA from 3% to zero. (South Park by contrast openly mocked the Chinese government and the companies that pander to their demands. They were also removed from the Chinese internet almost instantly). I realize this website will take a huge hit with my Chinese audience (currently zero, never mind) but be better NBA. You’re not as socially forward as you act when you censor your own in favor of $4 billion. Well, there goes my China comedy tour!
I saw the above headline and I thought, oh, I have to read this article. Then the site was a foreign tabloid and wanted to send me cookies, so I didn’t read it. It kept bouncing around in my head – the article, not the iPhone’s subliminal gay undertones – so I found another site and read it.
Apparently a Russian man is suing for some amount of rubles – your guess what those are worth is as good as mine – because his iPhone allowed him to receive a payment in cryptocurrency called GayCoin, which included a message to not judge. Apparently this was enough to push him over the wall between straight and gay – he said “How could I judge until I knew?” and got a boyfriend and hocus pocus, he’s now a homosexual.
At first I was laughing, mostly because I don’t really know what cryptocurrency is, but that seems to be a rather low bar for switching sexual preference. An app says, “Don’t knock it until you try it!” and boom! You’re now into a different gender. I then read a bit more on the article and figured out the real reason is Russia is very anti-LBTQ and he’s socially ostracized, so this is probably the real driver of the suit, which makes this a sad story…but the headline though! I’m going to sue my TV for making me fat – I wasn’t going to eat, but you know, there was a line on the commercial that said the Big Mac was tasty, so I ate 340 hamburgers. Does anyone know a good Russian lawyer?