Random Thoughts

I had to drop off Autumn at the Oakland airport the other day for her 2.5 week journey to Alabama. She started crying at the curbside drop-off, so I spent a little time consoling her. Then I notice one of these glorified meter maids at the front of my car, scribbling away on a pad. I look over at him and politely say, “Is there a problem?”. “No problem,” he says, “Just writing you a ticket.” First off, when did it become standard procedure for the fauxlice to be smart asses? Second, who the hell gets a ticket for saying goodbye to a significant other at the airport dropoff? It’s not like I went to get a cup of coffee or something. I was standing right by my car. I was so outraged, I called the Oakland police department to find out who is in charge of officer Knittel and his mustache. I got the number for Ira Christian (510-986-2687). I spoke to Ira and she told me that I had left my vehicle unattended. Did anyone out there know that “unattended” means you were not behind the wheel? I didn’t. I thought it meant you were nearby and could deal with your car if someone told you to move it. That definition means we could get ticketed when helping a significant other remove the luggage from the trunk and giving them a hug goodbye. What man with any kind of manners is going to send his girlfriend out to deal with her luggage by herself? Utterly ridiculous. Ira went on to tell me that they ticket disabled people if the person assisting them gets out from behind the wheel. THEY TICKET DISABLED PEOPLE FOR GETTING HELP FROM THEIR DRIVER! Ira went on to tell me that they’ve had to get more strict since 9/11. Tell me how the hell giving me a ticket is going to keep me from detonating my car bomb? Wouldn’t it be safer to tell me to leave? Ira told me I would remember and not do the same thing next time. I told her she was right because I was never going to return to Oakland airport.

Have you ever had a Jewish Christmas? Seems like it would be great, right? How bad could it be to get a day off work?

Well, let’s start the day by calling a friend to come join us for breakfast or something. rrrrrring. rrrrring. [brief conversation with friend]. Hmmm. Slight setback for our wonderful day off. It seems our friend is spending the day with family. Never fear! We’ll just try another friend. rrrrring. rrrring. [brief conversation with other friend]. Dang. Same story. [repeat until frustrated]. Bah, who needs those pesky Christmas celebrating friends. New idea. We’ll turn on the TV and see what’s doing. Hmmm…christmas special [change channel] …christmas special [repeat until frustrated]. Arrgh. The TV is filled with non-stop christmas specials. Gotta get out of the house. [drive by lots of closed stores in every part of town]. What the!? Everything is CLOSED. ARRRRGH.

It hasn’t happend again this year yet, but the clock is ticking. Tick…tock…tick…tock…

I went to Whole Foods Market to buy some cheese. They have this great cheese booth where you can taste the cheese before you buy. I love cheese. But apparently my fellow cheese lovers are all insane. There was a strange looking woman hanging out at the cheese booth. She had old-school over the head headphones on. I think she wears them to drown out the voices that are talking to her in her head. She looked at me and smiled and said “merry christmas”. I looked at her and nodded with a small smile, going quickly back to looking at cheese. She asked me a question about the cheese I was looking at, and then she said “happy holidays”, smiling broadly. She waited a few moments and then said “merry christmas” again with her same crazy big smile. Now I’m feeling uncomfortable and trying to pretend she just isn’t there. She looked over at me and said “Can I hug you?” as she threw her arms wide open waiting for a hug. I told her I’m OK, and she said “Awwww, you’re shy”. No. I’m just not crazy. I wandered around the corner to look at the goat cheese and get a little distance from headphone girl. Then a very short older bearded man stepped up next to me and started telling me which goat cheeses are really good. He went on to tell me about some weird bleeding intestinal condition he has that prevents him from eating much cheese. The first warning sign of trouble is someone who tells you too much about their bleeding intestinal condition without prompting. I think he ended up pointing out about every cheese in the goat cheese case and telling me it was really good. Apparently he really likes goat cheese.

I love cheese so much, the crazies can’t keep me away from it. I need to devise some way to elude the crazies if I go back to Whole Fooods for my cheese needs.

I really don’t understand people that say they like the rain. What is there to like about getting cold and wet one little drop at a time? Last time I checked, this was a form of torture attributed to the Chinese. The Chinese must really hate the rain.

The problem is that there’s nothing special to do when it rains. You can’t make rainmen or have a rainball fight. Why is it that the only thing special you can do with rain is torture people? Someone needs to devise fun stuff to do when it rains. Come on, there’s fun stuff to do when it gets windy, which has to be one of the most obscure kinds of weather. It should be a piece of cake to come up with something cool to do when it’s rainy out.

I have a children’s game for rainy weather. It’s called “fill the cup”. The kids get special “fill the cup ™” cups that are all the same size with hash marks on them for measuring. They go outside and mom starts the game with the offical “fill the cup ™” timer. It’s a race to see who can fill their cup with the most rain before the time is up. I’m happy to announce the official “fill the cup ™” funnel attachment for a competetive advantage.