21st Century Disease Names Daze
If you watch TV, you are constantly bombarded by ads for drugs that claim to treat a variety of ailments, most of which you have probably never heard of before. Where the hell do they come up with these ailments and diseases, and who the hell is sitting in a dark room somewhere figuring out what to call them?
The Sandwich Generation
The “sandwich generation.” A term I find myself using more and more, and a topic of conversation among my peers on what seems to be a daily basis.
For many of my friends who are anywhere between 40 and 60+, we are the sandwich generation. A thinly sliced piece of humanity nicely tucked between 2 pieces of familial bread. One of those pieces of bread is our parents, both of them if you are lucky. For many of us, that means an elderly parent(s), 80 years young and up. For some, their parents are snowbirds – they split their time between their home in the north and their other home in the south. For others, they have moved on to to warmer parts permanently. For me it’s the latter and it’s my dad, who will be 92 this August.
20 years ago, he “retired” to the Jewish Virgin Islands, a.k.a. Palm Beach County. His retirement lasted a few weeks before he started going stir crazy and threatened to move back north, which was not what my mother had planned. So off he went, in search of an accounting job, where he could continue his CPA career, which he found. Within a few months, he got his Florida certification and, until very recently, went to work almost every day. His major complaint during the summer and fall is that he doesn’t have enough work to keep him busy.
On the other side of our generational sandwich is our children. For Linda and me, that’s one in California and one who just recently moved to Brooklyn, to shack up with his girlfriend and his dog. Prior to that, he had been living at home for about 2 years, after graduating from SU in May 2014. He even went so far as to redecorate his room a few weeks after moving back home, which was a definitive sign that free room and board had it’s benefits. Now that he’s gone, I’m slowly converting his room into my home office (which will probably come as news to him).
Having an elderly parent 2-3 hours away by plane and a child 5 hours away by plane has added a whole other layer to our lives. We like to see them both as much as we can, which is a strain on us emotionally, physically and fiscally. AMEX points and frequent flier miles got chewed up pretty quickly the first couple of years that Allie was living in lala land.
For now, we do our best to go west and south as often as we can but sometimes the meat that makes up our little sandwich gets a bit too stretched . What I really need right now is a hero. Unfortunately my sandwich is more like peanut butter and jelly. A little thin, a little sticky, but in the end, even a good PB&J is better than nothing.
The Bible as the Official State Book
Yes, you read that title right. The State of Tennessee, in all of their divine wisdom, has voted to name The Holy Bible as the official State Book of Tennessee. Just when you think the religious right could not get anymore out of touch with the principles our nation was built on, someone comes up with this.
Getting High at Mile High
I’m a big believer in the theory that “you can’t make this shit up.” The sporting goods chain Sports Authority has declared bankruptcy. Creates a small problem for the Denver Broncos who play at Sports Authority Field at Mile High Stadium. Those naming rights sell for millions of dollars, so I’m sure the Broncos want to move fast in getting someone else to pony up the big dough.
Who’s The Bigger A’hole?
Over the years, I have made no secret about my love/hate relationship with folks at the local supermarket. Hate them because they can be such assholes. Love them because they can be such assholes, which is great fodder for this blog. Last Sunday’s visit to the ShopRite was no exception
It started in the parking lot, upon arrival. When I pulled into my spot, about 30 feet from the little cart holder, you know…where they ask you to return your cart to, there was a cart in the spot…30 feet away from where it should be. Asshole!
Then there’s the folks who think the most convenient spot to stop is by the door right when you get into the ShopRite, basically clogging up the whole entry way. Asshole!!
And no trip to the ShopRite is complete with the mother and/or father who think a supermarket is a big playground for the kids, and let them run amok like little chicks with their heads chopped off. Asshole!
But let’s get to the 2 biggest assholes of the day. First there’s this guy, in the 25 item express lane.
The picture is kind of small but how many items do you see there (and there was another 15 already bagged and in his cart)? I tell you exactly how many there were…40. 4o items in the 25 item lane. The total number of items is right there on the display, next to running price total. I don’t understand why they can’t program the express lanes registers to actually stop when the person gets to the maximum items on the lane. Believe me, you’d only to do it a couple of times before everyone got the picture. As for this guy…he’s an asshole!
And then there’s this guy.
Saw this just as I was leaving. I slowed down, looked at the guy – and he saw me looking at him – and watched him walk away. You know what? He’s an asshole?
But the question is, who’s the bigger asshole? Express lane dude or 2 space parking lot dude? I will leave it up to you decide. Hey, and the next time you go to the supermarket, please don’t be an asshole. The world is already filled with them.
Show Some Respect
This past weekend, Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia died. I don’t think it took more than a few nanoseconds before both sides of the political lunatic fringe used this opportunity to use this moment to serve their own cause. Holy Shit America….you all should be ashamed of yourselves.