LONGWALKABOUT

I am celebrating my Memorial Day in the least patriotic way possible.  Looking for patio furniture at IKEA.  I will be wandering around in an endless maze of Swedish furniture, housewares, and meatballs, less than twenty miles from Valley Forge National Historical Park.  Two hundred and thirty nine years ago George Washington and his troops endured an awful winter of frigid temperatures, starvation, and disease, so that today I can spend time wondering if that deck table is really teak.  No matter how much I poke fun at my current predicament, we should value those sacrifices more than anyone can put into words.

Two thousand troops died at Valley Forge.  Over the course of the Revolutionary War close to twenty five thousand American troops died.  In the Civil War, which is the bloodiest war in American history, Union and Confederate losses topped six hundred and sixty four thousand. In World War One, one hundred and sixteen thousand.  In World War Two, four hundred and five thousand.

I just finished rewatching Band Of Brothers.  At the beginning of the series Rod Strohl, an original member of the famed Easy Company, described how three men from his small town committed suicide because they had been designated 4F.  4F was the military term meaning they were medically ineligible for full service.  That statement really stuck with me.  These three men were so devastated they could not serve their country, they took their own lives. With like fervor Americans rushed to enlist to fight in World War II.  Do those kind of people exist anymore?  Men who believe in something bigger than themselves?  I know that they do, I’ve met them.  I just don’t think there are as many of them as there used to be.  Take Brooklyn, New York as an example.  Eleven thousand men from Brooklyn died in the second World War. If we were forced to invade Normandy with guys from today’s Brooklyn, we’d be storming the beaches with a bunch of dudes that had man-buns, tight pants, and ironic t-shirts.  Not exactly confidence inducing.

Speaking of Normandy.  My wife and I were fortunate enough to be able to take a trip to France.  She was there for business, but we added some sightseeing days on to the front end of the trip.  On arrival at Charles De Gaulle, we picked up a rental car, got lost, found our way, got lost again, and eventually arrived at the American cemetery in Colleville-sur-mer.  It was toward the end of the day.  As I wandered the small museum and cemetery grounds, exhaustion combined with the fact that we were on consecrated ground, had me blinking back tears the entire time we were there.  I remember turning to my wife at one point and saying, “These guys actually saved the world.”  It’s heavy.  You can feel it in the air on those beaches.

As cliche as it may be.  Wherever you all are today (barbecues, the beach, asleep on the couch, a small town parade,,,,,,,,,,,,IKEA)  I hope you take the time to remember those who gave their lives for something they believed was bigger than they were.  The ideals that Washington and his men were fighting for.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have been at IKEA for three hours now and I feel like having a few vegetarian meatballs before I go home and assemble my brand new POANG chair.

A Tribute video I found Youtube.

 

 

Last year at the beginning of the summer I made a list of five things that I wanted to do with my kids during their vacation months.  We did pretty well.  This year we are going to go bigger. Everything will be doable, but I’m not going to include something like keep the car clean all summer.  Because, A: That turned out to be unattainable, and B: What a boring item.  So, in keeping with the motto of the boys in our family, “Go Big, Because You’re Going To Get In Trouble Either Way”, I present the 2nd Edition of the,,,,,,

ATTAINABLE SUMMER BUCKET LIST

1. Visit Fort McHenry-  My eleven year old read a book about the Star Spangled Banner this year.  I find that history is best learned when you can combine what you’ve read about it with a physical experience.  So we’re going to make a trip down to For McHenry National Monument and Historic Shrine.  I will combine this with other historical lessons throughout the summer.  Examples include learning how to churn butter, breaking out the Atari so they see what it was like to be a kid in 1983, and perhaps learning to milk a cow.
2. Hunt For Fossilized Shark Teeth-  Once in a while I see guys walking around with shark tooth necklaces that they bought at the boardwalk.  Immediately I think, “What a schmuck.”  Then I think, “Sharks teeth are kind of cool.”  Then I think, “I wonder where I could find some.”  Then I think, “I could really go for some boardwalk fries.”  I did a little research and found a place in New Jersey where we could go hunting for sharks teeth and other fossils.  Then we will make or own shark tooth necklaces which we will pair with backwards baseball caps, tank tops, and sunglasses for a strikingly awful fashion look.
3. Spend Several Days In the Big Apple-  My wife and I spend the night in New York from time to time.  Nothing really adventurous about that.  But this summer we’re taking the kids.  That adds a level of adventure.  How?  We’ll visit Times Square to see the sights while avoiding the creepy people who dress as movie characters.  We’ll go to Central Park where the kids can play in the playground and climb the rocks.  While in the park, we will avoid climbing on rocks that smell too much like urine.  We’ll got to the Museum of Natural History and try avoiding the museum gift shop and certain bankruptcy.  Now that’s adventure.
4. Hit The Natural Waterslides In Ohiopyle State Park-  This water feature claimed my wedding ring years ago, and it is time that I make a triumphant return. Okay, I really just want to take the kids some place where we can camp out and enjoy getting in the water.  They’re both old enough to try out the natural slides in Meadow Run now.  For old times sake, I might give them each a ring that they can lose in the stream.
5. Go Standup Paddleboarding As a Family-  My wife and I both did this at different times last summer.  It was really fun.  This year I want to get the kids into it.  I can promise you this.  It’s going to be super frustrating, and my six year old will throw at least one epic fit.  In the end, I hope they’ll get the hang of it.  Then we can paddle around on the lake looking like a trendy fitness family, as long as my threats to the children that they “have fun or else” don’t carry across the water.

Those are the big items for this summer.  We’ll combine them with catching frogs, practicing piano, camping out in the treehouse, spending a week with grandma and grandpa, some movies, and miniature golf outings.  Hopefully when we put all of that together, we’ll have a summer that compares to last year.  Can’t Wait.

 

BONUS ITEM JUST FOR ME.  Skydiving-  During the deepest darkest days of winter I thought about jumping out of a plane a lot.  Now that the weather has warmed up, I have decided that it would still be a cool thing to do,,,,,,, except now I’m thinking about doing it WITH a parachute. Any one of my friends who reads this and is interested in doing the same thing, shoot me a message.  It’s always better to hurl yourself toward the earth at terminal velocity with someone you know.

 

Mother’s Day.  As you were all out buying your last minute gifts that you hoped appeared at least somewhat thoughtful, you were probably thinking, “Where the heck did this holiday come from?”  Well you’re in luck, because I’m here to explain.  Grab a cookie or some of the candy you bought for your mom, and I’ll sort it out for you.

Although early tributes to mom can be traced back to Egypt, Greece, and Rome, I’m going to focus on the modern American holiday.  It’s more relevant to why you just spent fifty dollars at Hallmark. Perhaps the ancient history would be worth exploring if there was a Mother’s Day pyramid in Cairo, or if moms had fought it out in the Colisseum for the title of #1 Mom in the Roman Empire.  But alas, none of that actually happened.

Modern Mother’s Day can be traced to a woman named Anna Jarvis.  In 1908, she took ideas from Julia Ward Howe and her own mother, Anne Reeves Jarvis, and convinced her Methodist Church to hold a Mother’s Day celebration.  So, on May 10, 1908, two separate celebrations were held.  One at Ms. Reeves church in Grafton West Virginia, and one in Philadelphia.  People loved the idea.  Later that year the YMCA petitioned congress to make it a national holiday. Because who loves moms more than bikers, indian chiefs, cops, and construction workers. That effort didn’t succeed, but the next year, some kind of Mother’s Day celebration was happening in forty six states.  Anna Jarvis kept up her own pressure on congress, and in 1914 Mother’s Day was declared a national holiday.  Yay Anna.

Anna had meant for the holiday to be a personal thing.  You get together with your mom, have some one on one time, and maybe go to church.  This is America though, and by the time 1920 rolled around, the holiday had been thoroughly commercialized by the greeting card, floral, and confection industries.  This caused Jarvis to completely lose her mind.  She openly campaigned against the commercialization.  She tried to copyright Mother’s Day so others couldn’t use the term.  She railed against anyone that she thought was tainting the purity of her day with mom, never stopping to think that mom was making out like a bandit because of all of this.  For twenty eight years she kept up this goofy fight, even protesting Eleanor Roosevelt’s celebration of the day.  She never married or had children, and spent most of her money in legal fees in an endless crusade against the day that she created.  At age 84, Anna was nearly penniless when she passed on in a Philadelphia sanitarium.  She never knew that during her final days, it was actually the The Florists Exchange that had provided for her care.

For the small fee of five dollars, you can tour the home where Anna Jarvis grew up.  In an interesting and entirely creepy side note.  You can do a “ghost tour” of the house at certain times.  Apparently the Ghostbusters have informed the owners that the place is haunted.  The ghost squatters include Anna Jarvis’ mother, a boy who haunts one of the closets, and a couple of other kids.  So, yes, dead children allegedly haunt the childhood home of the lady who founded Mother’s Day.  That’s not disturbing at all.

Next time you feel like taking up the cause of brand new holiday, remember a couple of things. A:  Whatever you create will be commercialized.  Deal with it.  B:  After you die, people will come along and claim that your now historical home is haunted by random folks because, A: whatever you create will be commercialized.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

 

Several months ago Sports Illustrated came up with their list of 100 Greatest Moments in Sports History.  I went through the entire list.  All one hundred.  It took me a while, because I fell asleep a couple times.  So, I made a pot of coffee and finished.  While it’s hard to argue with their top five, the rest of the list is a mish mosh.  Example.  Both Secretariat’s Triple Crown win and the U.S. women’s soccer 1999 World Cup win are on the list above the Immaculate Reception and Kirk Gibson’s home run in the 1988 World Series.  To add to the outrage.  They included the 1992 U.S. men’s Olympic basketball “Dream Team” on the list.  That is arguably the most overrated sports story ever.  C’mon Sports Illustrated, you’re better than this.

I could argue this list all day, but that would be boring.  So, what I’ve done is put together a list of my own.  This list has nothing to do with sporting greatness.  It’s all about entertainment value.  I give you.

Marc’s Top Five Most Ridiculously Entertaining Moments In Sports History

5.  Reporter vs. Brett Myers.  After a 2007 loss to the Padres, a reporter approached Phillies pitcher Brett Myers (an alleged wife beater and all around bad guy) about two home runs he had given up.  Myers ended up getting mad and called the reporter “retarded”.  The smirking reporter proceeded to ask Myers if he could spell retarded.  Hilarity and a lot of swearing ensued.  It still makes me laugh.  I also still don’t think Brett Myers can spell retarded.

4.  Dennis Green On The Bears.  Nothing is better than a coach freaking out to the media.  I could watch that every single week.  In 2006 the Arizona Cardinals lost a game to the Chicago Bears.  The Bears had no business being in that game, but after two fumble returns and a punt return, the Cardinals twenty point lead was gone and they went on to lose.  In the post-game, Dennis Green, the frustrated head coach of the Cardinals, delivered a great coaching rant.

3.  Randy Johnson Kills A Bird.  In a 2001 spring training game, Randy Johnson, whose fastballs reached into the triple digit miles per hour zone consistently, beaned a bird with a fastball.  At full speed, all you saw was an explosion of feathers about halfway between the pitcher’s mound and home plate.  This was funny to everyone but the bird, may he rest in peace.  Mr. Johnson, who has since retired, has now opened a photography company.  The logo of his company,,,,,,,,,, a dead bird.

2.  Bobby Knight Throws Chair.  In a 1985 game against Perdue, Indiana head coach Bobby Knight got upset about a foul called on one of his players.  He let the refs have it verbally and got called for a technical foul.  Coach Knight, who was never one to be shy, then decided that his indignation required further expression, so he picked up his chair and threw it across the court.  Awesome, just awesome.

1.  Phillip Wellman, My Hero.  In a 2007 minor league baseball game the manager of the Mississippi Braves got a little upset about the umpire throwing his pitcher out of the game.  He threw an epic tantrum that included throwing the pitcher’s rosin bag like a grenade.  It is my all time favorite sports meltdown.  In fact.  When I pass on from this world, I fully intend to write my own eulogy.  The last few lines will go something like this.  “Marc would like to let everyone know that he is not happy about the whole dying thing.  He finds it hard to express this unhappiness through words alone, so he wished us to play  this video on a loop for the remaining duration of the services.”  This two minutes and seventeen seconds of video will then be played on multiple flat screens until everyone goes home.

BONUS

Rick Monday Saves The Flag.  On April 25 forty years ago, Rick Monday, center fielder for the Chicago Cubs, played the hero.  Two protesters, you know the kind, the ones who are always mistaking their right to free speech for a right to interrupt everyone else’s good time, decided that they would light an American flag on fire in left-center field.  Rick Monday, who had served in the Marine Corps, decided that this was unnacceptable and swooped in to grab it before the morons could get it ignited.  Tommy Lasorda threw in some colorful language from the third base area.  A great moment which was commemorated in an iconic photo.

New Orleans.  New Orleans is great.  My wife just attended a conference there and I tagged along for four days.  She was in meetings most of the time during the daylight hours, which left me with a lot of unsupervised roaming time.  And roam I did.  The French Quarter. The Garden District.  The World War II Museum.  More of the French Quarter.  On our last day there, I decided to hop a street car up to the New Orleans City Park.

The City Park is nearly twice the size of New York’s Central Park.  It’s a beautiful combination of waterways, green spaces, and Spanish Moss covered live oak trees. Not to mention an art museum and various athletics facilities. Some of the live oaks date back more than 600 years. When hurricane Katrina hit and the levees failed, most of the park ended up covered by anywhere from one to ten feet of water. Since then, I am informed that it has largely recovered, minus around 2,000 trees and some buildings.

I decided to rent a bike for two hours.  On a Tuesday afternoon, there weren’t a ton of other people in the outer reaches of the park.  Let me just say that nothing makes you feel like you’re going to get murdered and thrown in a bayou like riding down a heavily wooded dirt road, thinking you’re alone, and then having some guy step out of the woods next to you.  Thirty minutes into my ride, I decided that I needed a mission.  When I think of Louisiana and bayous, I automatically think of alligators. Were there gators in the park?  My phone would know.

“Siri, are there alligators in New Orleans City Park?”

“Yes Marc, there are, but do you really think this is a good idea?”

“Really Siri, this is the first time in six months that you have actually answered any of my questions with useful information and now you want to give advice too.”

“Marc, what would your wife say?”

“Zip it.”

“But Marc, the average alligator bite averages over 2000 pounds per square inch, or three times the pressure of a great white shark bite.”

“Full of information today aren’t we. My next phone is going to be a Samsung.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

I spent the next twenty minutes on a fruitless search.  Then I ran into an old fisherman.  We had a short conversation, and he guided me to a trail that would eventually take me to a place where I might find an “eight footer” and possibly some others.  I had seen this trail earlier in the day and avoided it because of the whole, I didn’t want to be murdered and thrown in the bayou thing.  But away I went into the woods.  Being eaten by a gator didn’t seem as bad as being murdered.  At least it would be a better story.  Honestly, which conversation would you rather people be having at your funeral?  “What’d he die of?”  “Oh, congestive heart failure.” OR “What’d he die of?”  “Would you believe an alligator got him?”  “WOW.”

I reached the area that the fisherman had described and disappointedly rode back and forth scanning the water.  Nothing.  Then, after about fifteen minutes and five passes, I saw one.  It appeared to be about five feet long as it swam smoothly through the green water and vegetation.  I watched from about twenty to thirty feet away as it moved out into open water, stopping there momentarily as I tried to get a good picture.  Eventually it went behind a low hanging tree that blocked any good view that I had.  I climbed another tree next the water to try to get a better shot.  No luck.  I then became one of the misguided people in history who has thrown sticks into the water near an alligator to try to get it to move closer to him.  Again, no luck.

I had to return the bike and meet my wife for dinner, so I decided to be happy with the pictures that I had gotten, left my friend the gator, and pedaled back.  Thankfully, I was not murdered and thrown in the bayou along the way.  That would have been embarrassing.

 

My boys are getting big.  I don’t always notice it because I’m around them all the time.  Sometimes when I look at pictures I see the difference between 9 and 5, and 10 and 6. It’s huge.  Once in a while I’m reminded in other ways.

Two days ago I was wrestling with my six year old.  So you can get a clear picture of this, I should describe wrestling with my six year old.  It consists of him throwing MMA style punches and kicks at me with no concern at all for my safety, and me practicing my Karate Kid blocking skills. Until now this has gone pretty well.  Good times, good times.  Until now.   Near the end of this most recent match, I was laying on my side on my bed (the wrestling ring) and he was on his back with his feet toward me.  I glanced at a baseball game that was on the TV,,,,,,, and he struck.  He raised his leg and dropped a heel right into the side of my neck.  At that moment I may have seen more stars than the Hubble telescope.  I got mad.  He got upset. But we’re guys, so three minutes later we were watching the baseball game together. Seriously though, my neck is still sore.  He is getting big.

A day later we went for a bike ride.  I took the training wheels off of his bike about two months ago, but it wasn’t until this week that he really took off on his own.  We rode around in our neighborhood, me on my bike, him on his bmx wearing a Batman shirt and cape.  Riding a bike is a big milestone in a kids life.  It’s kind of that first step to freedom.  As I rode behind him watching the batman cape ripple in the breeze and his little legs pump up and down on those pedals, I realized that I am nowhere near ready to hand over car keys to either one of my kids. That will come way too fast.

After having my little guy nearly knock me out, and then watching him spread his wings, I know that no matter how annoying it is when people say, “They grow up too fast”, it’s true. You get so busy in the day to day grind of things, and then before you know it they’re big enough put you down for the count.  When my oldest comes to me with theological questions the conversation always seems to end with me telling him that he won’t totally understand God until he has kids of his own.  That makes me wonder if from time to time, in between shaking His head at the dumb stuff we do, God looks down and says, “Wow they are getting so big.  Where has the time gone?”

 

 

Including all of the time that my wife and I dated before we got married, we have been together for twenty two years.  That makes 22 birthdays, 22 Christmases, 15 anniversaries, and after kids come along, you have to throw Mother’s Days in there as well.  Not to mention all of the odd graduations and other occasions where a congratulatory gift is in order.  (Before you say, “What about Valentine’s Day?”  I mentioned our mutual disdain for that faux holiday in a previous post.)  If you add all of those days up it comes to somewhere around seventy to eighty times where I’ve had to procrastinate and then be very stressed for several days about what gift to buy.  That’s a lot of knowledge gained.  Now I would like to share some of that knowledge with the general public.

1.  Never ever buy sports related items for your lovely lady.  Yes, she may have accompanied you to a few sporting events where she enthusiastically cheered on your favorite team.   But,,,,, she did that because she loves you, not your team.  One year when I was dating my future wife, I bought her a football jersey for her birthday.  My wife doesn’t remember certain vacations that she has been on, but she remembers receiving that gift with amazing clarity.  If she ever gets alzheimer’s and remembers nothing else, I picture her turning to me every day and saying one thing.  “I can’t believe you bought me a football jersey.”  I haven’t mentioned the worst part of this yet.  Okay.  Here goes,,,,,,,,,………..  I included a collectible tin can of football cards along with the jersey.  I know.  It was bad.

2.  Pay attention to cues.  Women like to give hints about things that they want.  To guys this kind of thing is confusing and these cues often go unnoticed because honestly, we’re busy thinking about that football team that our wives or girlfriends are now beginning to hate.  Like a serial killer that wants to be caught, your significant other has been leaving clues for months about what she wants for her birthday and Christmas.  Turn this into a game.  Think of yourself as a detective who must decipher these clues in order to save his own life.  In all actuality, your life may be in danger if you get her a football jersey.

3.  Jewelry and perfume are usually winners, but you still have to adhere to rule two.  Jewelry does not make a good gift if it is the wrong kind of jewelry.  For example if I bought my wife a necklace that included anything in the shape of hearts or flowers, she might change the locks on the house.  Know what she likes.  Know what she already has.  Know what you think looks good on her.  Also, know your budget.  It’s never good to buy her a gift that says, “I Love You So Much, That I Have Endangered Our Financial Future.”

By using these few rules, I have gotten much better at not getting teased when giving my wife gifts.  In fact.  This year after Christmas, she told me that I am now her “Official Jewelry Buyer”. I was super excited about this until she told me that, NO, the title did not include a badge or any other kind of important looking I.D.

 

Epilogue:  Before my wife launches into another diatribe about that jersey, I’d just like to mention the first gift that she got for me when we were dating.  Two CD’s.  The first one – Tom Petty.  The second – Boys II Men.  This was the first time I had owned music by either of these artists.  I’m going to guess at her thought processes.  “Hmmm, what music do I buy a high school aged white guy?  Ooooh, there’s a CD with a white guy with long hair.  He’ll probably like that.  And you know what, he definitely lacks both rhythm and blues,,, and style, soooooo, okay Boys II Men.  Done.”  She should have just bought me a football jersey.

Our family just returned from a Spring Break trip to Florida.  We spent the first three days of our trip at Disney World,  “The Most Magical Place On Earth”.  From what I’ve been able to gather from our family’s two visits to Disney, a good part of the magic involves making money disappear from your wallet and then making you feel good about that.  As I sit here thinking about our trip and how I didn’t really need to put a new roof on my house, I sip coffee from my fantastic complimentary travel mug. Here are some highlights and observations from the land of the mouse.

• My ten year old son does not enjoy roller coaster drops. Before getting in line for any roller coaster, inevitably the question would come.  “This ride doesn’t have any big drops does it?”  Being the loving, caring parents that we are, my wife and I would answer, “No!  Now get in line.”  Some people may say that this could lead to trust issues and therapy later in life.  To them I say, “Hush!  Get in line and stop trying to ruin my vacation.”  Trust issues and therapy aside, there was another consequence to all of this.  Every thrill ride has a spot where they take your picture.  For a fee that is slightly more than reasonable, but slightly less than preposterous, you can own this photo that will forever remind you of how much you enjoyed your ride experience.  In our family’s case every photo showed two parents and a six year old laughing and smiling, and one unamused ten year old.
• When visiting Disney for multiple days, their dining plan options are usually the most cost effective way to eat.  Even when you have the dining plan, Disney insists on putting a price rundown on the receipt they give you at the register.  So, instead of getting a receipt that shows that you just used one meal credit, you get a receipt that shows you what your meal would have cost had you paid cash.  The number is usually really out of whack, so it leaves you feeling like a financial genius.  “Look honey, it’s a good thing we bought this dining plan because otherwise this lunch of burgers, fries, and drinks for four would have cost us $393.72.  We are brilliant!”
• We have been to Disney twice.  You’d expect the children to be the ones to get overwhelmed and have a meltdown.  In our family’s case it has been the parents.  The first time I remember my then 7 year old looking at us like, “My mom and dad really need  to get a grip.  Why am I the rational one here?”  This time, my wife and I decided to institute a poorly thought out, “NO GRUMPINESS” policy.  My six year old, who operates at 100% of whatever emotion he is feeling at present time, did not handle this well.  The result of our attempt at forced happiness——–   on the second morning of our vacation we were the proud parents of the only crying 6 year old in the entirety of Disney World.
• We spent the last Disney day at the Magic Kingdom.  Our plan of getting there early and beating the crowds to every big ride worked perfectly.  Big 5 done in 2 hours.  When we got back to the hotel that evening we were all tired.  Ten o’clock came and not one of us was left awake.  Then eleven o’clock came.  Someone rapidly knocked on the door of our room with a key.  My half asleep wife mumbled something, the person outside responded, my wife mumbled again.  AND THEN, the door to our room started to open.  I am a notoriously heavy sleeper.  In college, I slept through a fire drill with the alarm blaring right outside the door to my dorm room.  My wife had woken up more by now and she was startled.  She roused me and I was totally confused.  All I knew was that it was dark, the room door was opening, and it wasn’t supposed to be.  Naturally, I gave what I will describe as my best unintelligible karate type yell.  It worked.  The door rapidly closed.  By the time I put on a shirt and  went outside, whoever had  been there was gone.  We called the front desk to figure out what had happened.  Half an hour later they called us back and told us that one of their employees had gone to the wrong room and I had scared them away with my gallant yelling.  I’m not sure if I believe this.  I tend to think that it was Mickey or one of his henchmen, Pluto, Goofy, maybe Captain Hook.  I picture them in full costume outside our door looking back and forth to make sure there were no witnesses as they entered our room with a gazillion brochures to give us the hard sell on the Disney Vacation Club.

In closing I would like to say that there really is no place like Disney.  The attention they pay to detail is second to none.  At some point in their lives, everyone should skip three or four mortgage payments and take the kids down for several days.  And when you do, take my advice and don’t pass up the buffet at the Tusker House in Animal Kingdom.  It’s awesome.

 

Mitch Albom wrote a book called The Five People You Meet In Heaven.  I admit, I haven’t read it.  By all accounts it’s a good read.  (4 Stars on Amazon out of almost 3000 reviews)  It sounded like a great idea for a column, but A, it’s already been done.  And B, I couldn’t come up with five people.  Thinking long and hard, I could only come up with my grandparents and Roberto Clemente.  No one else quite measured up.

So here’s what I ended up with instead.  I give you,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

———– The Five People You Meet at the Grocery Store ———–

1. The ON A MISSION Shopper–  These people whip through the store at reckless speeds, their shopping carts on only two wheels when they round the corners.  Stopping to check the price of items is not a necessity.  In fact, stopping at any time during the shopping experience would be considered a failure.  They fly down the isles, grabbing things off the shelves while people dive out of the way.  They don’t always hit senior citizens in the achilles with the front of their cart, but when they do, they don’t even notice.
2. The I READ EVERY LABEL shopper–  This may hit a little close to home for my wife.  They stand there reading nutrition facts and descriptions of every item like they’re the most fascinating text in the world.  It should never take thirty minutes to get through the refrigerated section.  I am convinced someday I will see a headline in the paper about someone who inadvertently froze to death in the supermarket while trying to decide what kind of Eggos to buy.  At the end of your life when you tally up the numbers, the percentage of it spent in the grocery store should not be in double digits.
3. The I JUST CAME FROM THE GYM shopper–  I have a lot of these in my area.  I’m not really clear on the mindset of these people, so I’m just going to guess.  This is what I imagine going through their heads.  So glad it was leg-day today.  I hope that people are staring at my glutes while I try to decide what organic produce would best compliment the organic quinoa that I’m going to have for lunch.  Seriously, my glutes look great in these spandex pants,,,,,,,,,,,,,  I really just want ice cream, but NO, THAT’S FOR THE WEAK.
4. The BLOCKADE shopper–  Otherwise known as the I’m the only person in the world shopper.  This kind of shopper either stops in the middle of the isle to stare at different kinds of soup, or leaves their cart in the middle of the isle while they stare at different kinds of soup.  Why soup?  Mainly because I don’t really like it all that much, so that’s what I picture these inconsiderate folks buying.  There seem to be more of these people at Costco than anywhere else on the entire planet.  They take their oversized shopping carts and leave them sideways in the middle of the oversized isle while deciding which oversized can of New England clam chowder to buy.
5. The I’M JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE shopper–  Most of these people are accompanied by children.  I am intimately aware of the trials and tribulations of this kind of shopper.  You’ll hear them coming before you see them.  Then they round the corner.  One kid is contained in the cart seat while the other one runs in front grabbing things off the shelves and bringing them back to the cart.  The things they bring back are inevitably items the parent has never even considered purchasing.  It’s kind of like when a cat brings a dead chipmunk to the doorstep and they stand there looking all proud of themselves.  The parent has to tell them to put it back where they got it.  But the overly-eager kid knocks over the soup can display in the process, and in a winning turn of events trips the Blockade Shopper.  Score!

On Monday morning we’re all going to be in somewhat of a stupor.  Why?  Because people decided to screw around with time for no good reason.  Yes, some busybody had a down moment and got all nervous because they weren’t accomplishing something, so they decided that we needed to adjust time in order to accomplish more.  This kind of stuff happens in congress a lot.

It all started before the days of electricity, when candles were used for lighting.  The idea being, that by adding daylight hours to the end of the day, people would use less candle wax.  The Yankee Candle Company beat this idea back.  I believe the original quote was something like.  “This is obviously a war on candles, and our business in particular.  We have no idea why you would want to deprive the public of an extra hour of their homes smelling like a delicious macintosh apple, or a fresh baked pumpkin pie, or a field of lavender, or any other of our 137 scents.  NEW AROMAS AVAILABLE THIS FALL!”

In 1916 Germany became the first country to officially adopt the 1 hour daylight saving time.  They decided that it would help save them fuel for what they were trying accomplish at the time.  CONQUERING THE WORLD.  Luckily for the rest of us, it made no difference.

Because of WWI, Woodrow Wilson decided to bring the idea to the United States in 1918.  That lasted a whole seven months.  It is a popular myth that farmers were the reason for the time change, but they were actually instrumental in getting the law overturned.  They hated the way it messed up their schedule.  Their dissent, combined with the Great Schoolchildren’s Riot of 1918 (not a fact), made congress bow to the will of the people, and we lived without national time fiddling until the next time Germany decided that they wanted to CONQUER THE WORLD.

Even though there were no national daylight saving laws when it wasn’t war time, that didn’t stop municipalities from mercilessly toying with the clock.  When local politicians weren’t honoring other politicians with statues or getting involved in scandals, they were using their god complexes to tinker with time itself.  As History.com points out, “In 1965 there were 23 different pairs of start and end dates (for daylight saving time) in Iowa alone.”  In 1966 congress passed the Uniform Time Act.  This officially enacted DST and gave it an official start and end date.  That’s how we all got stuck with it.

The purpose of the whole fiasco is to save on energy.  Assuming we lazy people will refuse to get up early to take advantage of the extra morning sunlight, we are artificially being given more daylight at the end of the day.  This way we will use less energy lighting our homes and be able to get more done in the daylight hours.  However, recent studies by UCSB and the California Energy Commission have shown that it really has little to no influence on energy consumption, and people probably use more gasoline in the pursuit of leisure activities because of the extra sunlight.

SUMMARY:  Like many laws and rules, this is in place to make your life more complicated.  Everyone dislikes it, especially farmers and teachers.  I have the suspicion that if a group of us got together and went to congress to say, “Hey, why are we still doing this?”, the answer would be, “Because we said so. Now go to your room.”

LINKS

• The Sports Illustrated 100 Greatest Moments in Sports History is worth a look.
• The soldiers from WWII’s “Ghost Army” are up for a Congressional Gold Medal.  It’s a pretty interesting story.
• This penguin travels an unbelievable distance every year to visit the man who saved his life.
• I’m not saying that this avocado chimichurri bruschetta is the best thing ever, but it’s close.