Boomer Twilight

Mostly Humorous Observations of Most Anything, with a Boomer Slant

Archive for the ‘Facts’ Category

Tangible Spam

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During the 60s there were several newspapers in most cities. It seems today in the majority of areas around the country they have disappeared or merged into one. I like competition. It makes things cheaper and requires a thirst for perfection in order to stay in business. Free is cheap. But the onslaught of free papers is getting out of control.

Walking through my neighborhood I am noticing more and more signs attached to mail and newspaper boxes that read, “No Free Papers.” Apparently it is getting to the neighborhood sign makers, too. It would be OK if the free papers were newsworthy, but they are simply advertising vehicles, which makes them free and encourages litter. Yeah, politicians need to get the message out so we can choose between empty promises of the best looking, family person, who loves Jesus, and a better school system. I guess we do need to vote. We are Americans and voting is part of our heritage. But, do we need 471 competing rags, littered with coupons offering us 20 – 40 cents off just about everything? Are there any gas coupons in them? I don’t recall ever getting a paper offering petroleum discounts.

If you are away from your home for a day or two, and it rains, you have a driveway filled with some sort of clear, pink, yellow, or orange-colored, spongy mass that once was a free paper. If you are away for a longer time, the sunlight turns it into some sort of disintegrating, clear, pink, yellow, or orange-colored, spongy mass that once was a free paper, that is now embedded in the crevices of the driveway. Of course, being polite, and not wanting the wrath of your Homeowners Association, you are neighborly and clean up the disintegrating, clear, pink, yellow, or orange-colored, spongy mass that once was a free paper, that is now embedded in the crevices of the driveway. The point is, you didn’t ask for this.

I always hated the “opt out” option. Is their really an “opt in” option? Usually you have to make an ass out of yourself complaining, then the distributor of the free publication directs your attention to the fine print. Otherwise, the papers keep coming, and coming, and coming. Electronic Spam always has the link that you have to click in order to stop the messages from arriving in your email box. It really doesn’t work for several months, but the “opt out” option is there, nonetheless.

Unless you can catch the sneaky bastard delivering the free papers, you don’t get a chance to stop the flow. Try setting a trap of nails or glass particles in front of your driveway, and maybe it will discontinue, but you face the possibility that the trap you set becomes your own problem, once you have forgotten about it. Or the neighbors’ kid flattens the tire on his/her bike and you are faced with explaining yourself to someone you thought was a friend.

If you are a walker, you’ll notice the papers in driveways and if they have been there for some time, it’s a disgusting mess. You don’t want to pick them up and throw them away, because there is a slight possibility the person who has received them may actually want them. I doubt it, but who wants to be the neighbor stealing the other neighbors’ paper? Even though there is no possibility the papers can be read in the condition they exist, to throw them away is an invasion of privacy. And, who wants to be the neighbor invading privacy?

I guess it’s hopeless, so I will go now. I need to make a sign.

With Love,

Bake My Fish

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Written by Bake My Fish

May 25, 2007 at 9:15 pm

Tobacco Smoke vs. Flatulence . . . Whose Right?

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Tobacco smoke is a disgusting irritant. So is a fart. Farts are comical to most people. You may be snickering right now just seeing the word in print. When we were kids in school, the class clown was adept at bathroom humor. To break wind and point at the person next to him was a typical and overdone move, and the louder, the better. We laughed because it was a funny, welcome diversion. The “pull my finger” joke always gets a chuckle. There are many slang words for flatulence; fart, fluff, poof, poot, toot, squeaker, squiggle, ass burp, blurp . . . just to name several. Uttering these words usually causes chortling by anyone within earshot. But, if you are sitting in a bar and the person in the adjacent stool is busting his ass incessantly, it ain’t funny. Not so much because it is foul, as it’s inconsiderate. So, why is it non-smokers are expected to accept tobacco smoke lingering in their space simply because they’re in a bar?

Now, I’m not one who favors a lot of government regulation, but it seems to me repulsive behavior needs some control. We could outlaw farting, but that would be silly. Most people are courteous enough to “take it outside” without being forced. If someone sitting next to you at the bar asks, “Do you mind if I smoke?” and you are bold enough to reply “yes” they will still light up and blow it in another direction. Certainly the cigarette will not be put away. There is a sense of entitlement because you are in a drinking establishment and smoking is legal. Perhaps the smoker will move to another area of the bar, but if there are no other seats, you must be tolerant because it’s a bar.

Flatulence and tobacco smoke have three things in common . . . 1) both are airborne 2) it is impossible to control the direction of their movement and 3) they stink! Asking someone who is smoking not to, invokes an arrogant glare, a smart remark or simply being ignored. Common courtesy does not permit one to fart because it is innately understood to be repugnant to those in the immediate vicinity. Why then is smoking assumed to be inoffensive to the nearby non-smokers?

There is the argument smoking is an addiction. OK, agreed. Heroin and crack are addictive, as well. But, they are illegal. Attempts to outlaw smoking in bars leads to cries of “rights trampling” or “big brothering” or other insidious encroachments toward totalitarianism. It is thought by many to be unfair to require smokers not to trample on the rights of non-smokers, who today outnumber them. Our society legislates intolerance of many activities considered abhorrent by the general public. These “laws” are adjusted coincidentally with the change in mores. Today the non-smokers have overtaken the smokers in large numbers; therefore, the laws will eventually be changed as desired by the majority. Once in place, they become the norm and the protests are muted. I doubt a ban on smoking in bars will be quite the demise of society those opposed believe. People go to bars to drink and socialize. If feeding their addiction is necessary, they will go outside just as they do where they work.

I don’t frequent bars as much as before, simply because I prefer to spend my time at home; however, the next time I go to a bar where smoking is allowed and someone next to me asks, “Do you mind if I smoke?” my response will be, “No. Do you mind if I fart?”

With Love,

Bake My Fish

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Written by Bake My Fish

March 3, 2007 at 8:52 pm

Aging In America

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What exactly is a Boomer? The official designation goes to those individuals born between 1946 and 1964. OK, that’s fine. Although my preference is to think of a Boomer as someone born between 1945 and 1960, I am positive being born in 1950 qualifies.

Many of us were Hippies. Many, many smoked pot (many still do). We watched black and white televisions as children. Leave It To Beaver and Andy Griffith were hilarious (then). Zorro, Johnny Yuma, Superman, Batman, The Cartwrights, and Wyatt Earp were some of our heroes. At our Elementary schools we ate grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup on Fridays. The year 2000 seemed like a fantasy, and we thought 50-years-old was a foot in the grave, with the other foot on a greased ice block. Now 60 is just around the corner. 70 is likely. 80 is not an Impossible Dream. So, where are we now?

Most of us are overweight, with High Cholesterol, HBP, Diabetes, ED, Prostate Cancer, Hormone Therapy, Cataracts, and we walk funny. Our AARP card is drawn like a gun at the movie theaters, hotels, restaurants, or any place we can save a dollar or two. We have angst over our retirement. We feel guilty bitching about our neighbor’s kid’s loud music, yet we still attend Stones concerts. Mowing the lawn is now a chore, rather than a joy as it was when we were new homeowners. Fiber is no longer an afterthought. Having a toilet seat break under the weight of our asses is now an accomplishment (at least we’re going). We were shocked when they started saying “ass” on regular TV. Shopping at Walmart no longer feels like an assault on the local small business (we’ll be vying for the Greeters’ jobs soon).

Now we are “Seniors, Hear Us Roar in Numbers Too Big to Ignore.” The 2008 election is coming, and the Presidential candidates are lining up. They’ll start kissing our behinds and making ridiculous promises they’ll not keep. They will hope we die before they have to deliver. But we are viable numbers, with viable needs. Portability this, Entitlement that. They talk a good game when their jobs are on the line. How’s the new Prescription Drug Plan working for you? Have you been to Canada recently? Have you obtained an online medical evaluation from Almost-A-Doctor so you can buy drugs? Don’t worry, they’ll vow to fix all that. At least up until the Inauguration of January 2009. Then we’re stuck with whichever Loser wins. But aren’t most of the candidates Boomers, too? Shouldn’t they be sympathetic?

I want to be able to off myself if there is no hope of recovery from whatever devastating disease I have in the future. I don’t want a politician standing by my bedside preventing my wife from pulling the plug. What the hell does the politician know about me or any of us? We are a vote or a no vote. That’s it. Sure, they preach they care. But, we know they don’t. When we’re at our Senior Center Dance, maybe they’ll come by to shake our hands, eat a cookie and wiggle their booties to the music . . . . . . . . because there is an election on.

So, let’s all gather ’round for the candidates to give us a big kiss. Some of them will pinch our cheeks. Some of them will slap us on the butts. But, they will all look at us through rose-tinted glasses and wish us well. And beg for our vote. Think carefully about who will get yours.

With Love,

Bake My Fish

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Written by Bake My Fish

February 14, 2007 at 2:00 pm