Mall trauma drama

I went to Sears to look at 3-season jackets. I have a Winter dress coat and a Winter parka but I do not have a jacket that works for Fall and Spring. I looked at the REI and the Land's End sites and decided that I wanted to try on some jackets. I went to Sears, in the mall, because they sell Land's End clothing in the store. I looked at a few things and then I decided for going to the mall I should reward myself by getting a pretzel from Auntie Anne's. This is where the trouble starts.

When I go into the mall the 'please separate me from my money' sign starts flashing on my forehead and chest. It is bright and blinks so that the kiosk people can make adequate preparations for my arrival. So, I pass by the Deep Sea Minerals kiosk. I know the Deep Sea Minerals products well they products come directly from the Dead Sea and possess the famed beneficial effects of the Dead Sea. My last two dealings with them ended with me feeling bad about not buying their product one time and leaving with their product another time.

As always they ask "Excuse me sir do you have a moment?". I almost never in a hurry and I always have a proverbial minute, so here we go. Remember, I have had prior dealings with Deep Sea Minerals.

Kiosker: Hello sir, how are you today?

Me: Oh, I am well. How are you?

Kiosker: I am fine. Thank you for asking. Are you married?

Me: Yes, I am.

Kiosker: Please give me your hand. I want to show you something.

Me: Okay.

Kiosker: (Buffs my thumbnail and oils my thumb cuticle). Sir, see how shiny your nail is. This is without polish. See? Isn't that great?

Me: Yes, it is great. (Waiting for the sell).

Kiosker: Well, you can get all of this plus the oil for $39.99 and if you buy two you get the third for free. What do you think? It would make a great Christmas present for you wife.

Me: Well, I think I will pass.
[What I should have said is the following:

No, it would not make a great Christmas present for my wife. My wife hates it when I spend our hard earned money on mall kiosk sh*t. In fact, buying mall kiosk sh*t is the reason why I was not allowed to go the mall by myself for two months (this was self-imposed).]

Kiosker: Well, let me tell you what I will do. I had a woman buy two but she did not want her third so I can give you one for half off (It may have been a third off whatever.)

Every time you say 'no' there is always someone who did not want the third.

1. If someone really spent the money to buy two why would they not take the free one.
2. It is free why would I pay for the free one?

Me: No, thank you. (I leave.)

Deep Sea Minerals 1, David 2--Victory is mine! Go, David!

I continued on to Auntie Anne's and rewarded myself with a pretzel and medium lemonade to celebrate my victory over the forces that wish to separate me from my money.

Bad, bad hair

I was on a mission to find shredded carrots at Meijer. I first went to Whole Foods and they had no shredded carrots. They had whole carrots, baby carrots, and whole skinned carrots. Of course, they had organic and non-organic of all of these carrot incarnations but no shredded carrots. I did find and buy more lip balm. I have a problem. I will now list my current lip balm holdings:

Chapstick Lip Butter (five butters to be exact) [2-4]--I have a special ability to lose these and then find them a month later, so the actual number is not known.
Desert Essence Lip Rescue Shea Butter [2 (1 at the office)]
Badger Creamy Cocoa Cocoa Butter Lip Balm [1]
ICPSR Lip Balm (free) [2]
Burt's Bees Lifeguard's Choice Waterproofing Lip Balm[2 (1 in each bike bag)]
Kiss My Face Sport Lip Balm (SPF 30) [1]
Lizard Lips Original (SPF 15) [1]
Another SPF 15 balm whereabouts in the house unknown [1]

Total (at a minimum): 12, yes twelve

Back to the carrots.

Having not found shredded carrots at Whole Foods, I went to Meijer. I do not know what the markets have against shredded carrots, but the only shredded carrots I could find were packaged with broccoli or with shredded cabbage. I bought those. We needed detergent so I went to the back of the store to the detergent aisle. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am easily distracted and I love grocery shopping. While walking down the main back aisle I looked down every aisle. Big mistake. I was walking minding my own business when I look to my right and I see the hairiest backside I have ever seen. I will be haunted by the sight of butt crack and hair just taking up the whole aisle, an exaggeration. It is one thing if someone is kneeling down or bending over but this guy was standing up.

1. Pull up your pants.
2. If your butt is that hairy, going commando (I am assuming) should be illegal. I know we should not have laws that single out one particular population but this is for the greater good. We should think of the children and those with vivid imagery.
   

After this, I went to check-out. I passed a couple at the self check-out lane. The male of the couple had quite possibly the worst and most-obvious hairpiece one could have. Bald is beautiful, bad hairpieces are pathetic. If you have a funny shaped head, get a cool hat or good hair.

Just say no to bad hairpieces, With your help, we can stop the spread of bad hair. While we are at it, we should get rid of the transvestite/transsexual wig. You know what I am talking about.

One final thought: I think the term 'gender reassignment' is incorrect. One does not need surgery to change gender. It should be 'sex reassignment'. Why are we so afraid of the word 'sex'. Why do academics participate in this linguistic travesty?

Let it snow or is that rain, it is snain

Today I did my part to help Michigan's economy and support career changes by getting a massage at the Ann Arbor Institute of Massage Therapy (AAIMT). This was my third or fourth massage at AAIMT. It was my first massage with this particular masseuse. She is a truly gifted woman of small stature. I mention her stature because she, like many small-statured female massage therapists, seems to really get excited by working on a muscular body. I am no body builder but I have some left over musculature from working out. It has been my experience that small-statured female massage therapists see large muscles and think they can go to town. The therapists put their all into working my legs. It hurts during and feels great afterwards.

I think massage is S&M for the non-adventurous. Basically, it goes like this:
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Oh, this hurts. Breath deeply. Oh, yeah. Oh, oh, oh. Breathe. Oh, she is killing me. Ooh. Breathe. Breathe. Oh, she is really killing me. Ooh, ouch, ooh. Ouch. God, I do not think I going to make it through this. Oh, this hurts. This is painful.

Oh, we're done. When is your next available appointment? I cannot wait.
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Everyone should treat him- or herself to a massage. It requires no reciprocation except for a tip. You can tell the massage therapist exactly what you want and they will do it. Wonderful.

On a light note

My last post was pretty personal to say the least. Like many things, I thought it was a good idea at the time mostly because I did not think and just wrote from my heart. Generally, I discourage myself from expressing emotion in the first person. However, I am more likely to write from the heart than talk from the heart.

"Sometimes force of will is enough."--This is not a quote, at least not an attributable one. It makes sense, though. Sometimes the person who wins or succeeds is not the most gifted but the most stubborn or persistent.

Now for something completely different...

Why must everything be so immediate? By everything I mean my new cellular/mobile phone. Recently, I bought a new phone. This phone has a qwerty keyboard. Initially, I was resistant to text messaging. Then I had a wonderful revelation. If I send people text messages then I do not have to talk on the phone. This is great, dare I say fantastic. I love my new phone. I can send and read text message tomes.

An aside: I was in line at the public library and the person next to me used the word nonplussed in a conversation with her pre-teen daughter. Super cool.

I love my phone even though for the first few times someone called me I could not figure out how to answer the phone. It took me two days to figure out the shift key on my phone. Yesterday, I figured out that the usability specialists at the phone manufacturer thought it would be a great idea to make connecting the web as easy as a touch of directional button. Cost of web access $2 per megabyte. So, yesterday I pulled my phone out its case to see that I had been connected to the web for 17 minutes. Aaaagggghhhh!

I will now describe that moment.
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Getting out of his car at home, he hears a funny chirping noise. He is puzzled. He searches for the source of the chirp. He realizes that it is his phone. He pulls out his phone and sees the web connection time. Upon seeing the connected time, he not so calmly hits the disconnect button. While disconnecting he utters a string of expletives. Many of his utterances start with "son of ..." and "what the...".
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Upon my realization, I spent the next 20 minutes, postponing dinner mind you, figuring out how to reprogram the directional keys on my phone. Then, I spent the next 24 hours wondering what kind of sadistic, insidious individual makes one of the few things for which you cannot get a plan activated at the touch of a button.

May a mildly uncomfortable pox that has no lasting detrimental effects fall on that person's house.

Thank you everyone who responded to my last post whether with a comment or a personal message. You are my friends and since I have a hard time keeping friends and I am still working that out, please know this. I care deeply for my friends (you) and your friendship means more to me than I can ever express verbally or face to face. Now openness and heartfelt sentiments can be ended.

Never in My Lifetime

Based on the early counts, it looks like the United States has just elected Barack Obama as its 44th president. I remember months ago Whoopi Goldberg said on 'The View' that younger African-Americans may not understand that people of her generation never imagined that a Black man would even have a realistic chance at being President of the United States. I, a 34 year old man, never thought I would see the day when an African-American became President of the United States, unless it was on '24' and even then I was shocked.

What really strikes me is that our grandmothers who turned 90 and 89 this year have lived to see this moment. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to have experienced segregation and Jim Crow, to see cars and computers become the norm, to have lost their husbands and some of their children, and to see a Black man become President. My grandmother-in-law experienced racism firsthand not once but decades of her life. My grandmother and her husband, my grandfather, moved from their home state of Virginia to Buffalo, NY in order to get the best care for their first-born daughter, my mother. They knew that in the late 1940's, they could not get the best care possible for their little Black baby in Virginia so they moved without hesitation. Both of our grandmothers saw their children and grandchildren earn college degrees and start families and careers.

I cannot help but think about my mother who died earlier this year. She died weeks before the Florida primary election. Since she had her pace maker put in and her cataracts removed, she felt she had the energy and visual acuity to be more involved. She was going to be a poll worker. She was excited about playing a role in the election process beyond being a voter. She was so proud of herself. I remember when she called me at work to talk about her poll worker application. She was almost giddy but very serious because she wanted to make sure she submitted the best application she could so that she would be selected. I know if she had lived to fulfill her poll worker duties, she would have gotten up early that morning and driven herself to the polling place in her new Camry. She was planning what food she needed to bring with her so she could keep her eating schedule. She was ready but her plans were derailed.

Upon our return from her funeral, her Florida poll worker shirt arrived in the mail. She too never thought she would see the day the an African-American would be elected President of the United States. Unfortunately, she did not.

I have never missed her more than this day at this moment.
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For the record, John McCain is showing real, genuine class in his concession speech. It is the best, and possibly the most important speech he has given of his campaign. I think he did a fantastic job.

I have little ankles

The title has nothing to do with my post but I do have small ankles. In fact, I have small joints like my mother. Overall, it is okay because it makes my muscles look bigger. The only downside is that it seems that I have to continue strengthening the muscles around my joints because they do not handle my weight as well I think they should.

To the left is a picture of me, from Halloween this year.

Some people thought I was Bagger Vance. While I think it is a compliment to be compared to Will Smith, I was not Bagger Vance. When I conceived of the costume, one of my sore spots was that I might be mistaken for a Black caddie but I got over it. Originally, I was going for a 1920's or 1930's paperboy. Some people got it. Otherwise, I was just a black guy from the 1920's or 1930's. In some ways, with the reading glasses, I was going for my inner old timer.

Some people just inquired about my costume and others seemed to be really concerned that I was not scary or I was not very defined. I have never been scary for Halloween. I do not do scary for Halloween. Just like roller coasters and horror movies, life is scary enough without introducing artificial terror. Over the years, I have gone as superheroes, knights, kings, and cowboys. I like historic period costumes.

When I bike, you bike, we bike...and eat

Bless me, it has been five days since my last blog post. Today I rode with the Ann Arbor Bicycle Touring Society (AABTS). We rode 35 miles (actually 33.04). It was a small but determined group. I was the youngest member of today's ride. I figure probably there was only 20 years age difference between me and the next youngest ride participant. We rode from Whittaker Rd in Ypsilanti, MI to Belleville. Along the way we rode through Lower Huron MetroPark and then stopped at what I was told would be Red Robin, a chain restaurant. Instead, we stopped at Red Apple restaurant. Red Apple is a quaint local establishment in Belleville.

As we rode into Belleville, I prayed that I would not see anyone from my job. A few people from work live in Belleville and I did not want this to be the day that they see me in biker shorts. One of the cool (sarcasm) parts of the day was walking into a crowded restaurant and walking through the dining room in brightly colored cycling clothing. As I was walking to the restroom, a couple asked me was I part of a bike trip. I replied "yes" and because I am very self-conscious about walking around in biker shorts I added or "...or else I would be wearing real pants". They seemed to enjoy my humor.

Overall, it was a slow ride but a fun ride. The members of the touring society are nuts like many other Ann Arbor groups. They are not as crazy as the Ann Arbor Camera Club because they recognize you might have a life outside of cycling.

One thing I have noticed about the AABTS is that they eat a lot. Every ride they have, they eat. I understand that nourishment is important for sustaining one's energy but goodness gracious. These people have four course meals in the middle of rides. I am exaggerating but not by much. When I ride, I eat before the ride, snack during the ride, and eat a meal after the ride. AABTS will meet before the ride and eat, ride to their destination, a restaurant, and eat, and then assure each other upon returning home that they will take a nap and eat.