Short pants

I had the good fortune to happen upon a UPS delivery guy getting out of his truck in front of a neighbor’s house. While ordinarily I do not make it a habit to stare at MEN with keen interest, with this guy it was different – and he made me hungry. Not only was he dressed in the well known corporate dark brown togs but he was wearing his shorts too! What other jobs demand short pants as an ‘official’ work uniform - Lifeguard, Hooters girl, marathon man?

No as you might have guessed I am not a ‘shorts’ man myself. Yes I will wear them from time to time when I am trapped in a mine for 10 weeks, or an alligator has the other half of my legs. But most of the time I try not to thrill too many ladies with my knobby knees and hairy ‘tan-less’ ankles. Yes I like as much length in my pants as possible to keep everything in place and help keep the dust, bugs, and random coinage from getting trapped in various nooks and crannies.

But I was thinking about our UPS guy, Fed Ex folks, and even the post office people too for that matter. Their official uniforms often include SHORT PANTS? What is it with delivery people that demands ‘naked knees’ in the workplace? It seems to me that if I was lugging boxes and packages all over the back of a delivery van, I would want a little more skin protection beyond that which suntan lotion provides.

Also, no matter what your body type or the weather, you have to stuff yourself into those dandy pants and walk around like you are a 12 year old prep student to do your job. That was the issue with the parcel dude that I saw this week. He was sporting a hefty ‘gut-tastic’ belly flop well beyond the beltline. I am sure when the company clothing designers were imagining their corporate image, they did not anticipate their delivery folks reminding us of big chocolate muffins! See I told you I was hungry!

The Changing ‘grill’ of Limousines

It has been many years, when I was young, dumb and owned a limousine. This was not one of these bus-long jobs that the people prefer to rent today, as our car was a ‘normal’ stretched 7 passenger formal. Believe it or not, a couple of decades ago a car with a 145 inch wheelbase was considered fairly large. But check out the link HERE, to see what today’s 10 – 15 passenger limos have morphed into, and you’ll understand that now we’re dealing with a whole new breed of steed.

Stretching cars to excess is probably not as much of surprise as is the introduction of the SUV limo conversion. Now it seems more 4 wheel drive trucks and specialized ‘weird-mobiles’ are being lengthened, tinted, washed & waxed. For a minute there I bet you thought you were at the hair salon or spa huh? I wonder what kind of parties these people are going to that need 4X4 all-terrain limos? Maybe these Deliverance-type ‘special events’ are in the boonies, or ‘big shot celebrities’ prefer to answer the call of nature, by hiring giant 4X4 limousines to help them take ‘VIP’s’ in the woods?

I always loved the romance of owning a limo until I started DRIVING the ‘typical’ people who wanted to rent them. Oh sure once in awhile I’d get a nice couple that just wanted to go to dinner and then out to the theater. But mostly I would get loads of classless drunk people who wanted to drink more and scream out the windows at the Crips and Bloods in bad parts of town. That is always fun to be the only sane one in a suit and helmet, trying to negotiate the ‘rules’ of a rumble between gangbangers and prom rejects. I thought I was just hired to drive - not hold the microphone at a WWF cage match and clean ‘puke’ and goo off my car at 3 A.M. in the morning?

So needless to say I am no longer an entrepreneurial chauffeur & limousine magnate. Without all the French words that means, I’m not magnetically ‘attracted’ to limousines like bugs seem to be to those hanging ‘purple-light, screened zapper things’. Chauffeurs are like glorified bus jockeys and cabbies in a combat zone. So when I forget what my limo-life was like, I simply look at those dingy yellow cabs stuck outside the airport for hours on end. That’s the perfect representation of a job which mainly requires you to ‘hurry up and wait’ but with a little more polish (or other favorite type hot dog) … and oh yeah – a really COOL hat!

Lindsay Lohan Lowdown

I have no real ‘stake’ in the Lindsay Lohan hub-bub, though the girl could probably use some precious protein that a tasty T-Bone could provide. Except when she is having a serious heart to heart with a bottle of liquor, Lohan always looks a little gaunt and malnourished. Let me just say right up front I know a little bit about substance abuse, since I use crushed red pepper on nearly everything I consume.

Clearly all of Lindsay’s problems started with those wax lips that are stuck to her face. Hey I understand, because when I was her age I loved all kind of wax candies, but especially those little bottles with colored sugar water in them. Considering Lohan’s DUI arrests, it is pretty clear that she likes her colored bottles too, but much, MUCH bigger. So since Ms. Lindsay loves LOTS of BARS, Los Angeles County decided to set her up with a ‘big girl’s’ bunk and a stainless commode, behind some really good iron ones.

I am not sure if ‘listy’ Lohan is a Mean Girl, but she may become one quick if she starts a full blown de-tox while serving her entire 90 days sentence locked up in the can. Oh who am I kidding, Hollywood folks aren’t expected to spend their valuable time in jail when they do bad things. Those rules, along with ‘shiv’ and soap sculpting class are for OTHER people with REAL skills. Yes, before Lohan’s orange jump-suit was on (with hopefully some skivvies), and her jail door zip tie was pulled taut, a deal on the down-low was surely in the works for reduced jail-time. C’mon, you don’t want to overcrowd jails – stick criminals in downtown urban barrios where they have loads of extra space and little if any crime right?

Oh yeah, I completely agree with that logic. No sense keeping tinsel town abusers locked up when it is so much more fun to read about their exploits and foibles in supermarket tabloids. Yep, it’s my philosophy to put folks like Lohan and those ‘HOT LIPS’ of hers to work off their debt to society, in their local community. I’m thinkin’ given her history, she could weave in and out of traffic piloting one of those Hollywood Boulevard tourist buses, in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater and the WAX museum.

Never walk in circles

Have you ever had one of those days that you just want to rewind and start over? No harm, no foul – just everybody go back to your marks and let’s try to get it right this time. My daughter’s car would not start right away last night, so I kind of prepared myself mentally for today’s inevitable trials. You know the drill, - make an appointment at the car shop; get the car tucked in with a probe in its tailpipe; and then find a ride back home to wait it out. Then comes the tearful goodbyes as I try to spend some quality time with my money. We try to be brave, but we’ve known each other far too long to try and lie to one another. There is no way to sugar coat it, soon ‘Franklins, Grants, n’ Jacksons’ and I will be parting ways - never to see each other again. Goodbye old friends – I will miss your cocaine-laced embrace.

So today starts out as planned and I give up my car to the kid so she can get to work. After my daughter leaves, I get ready to take her car in and amazingly the beast starts up perfectly without issue. As wonderful as that sounds, I groan, because the only thing WORSE than an electrical problem is an INTERMITTENT electrical problem. I set my negativity aside and already feel a little encouragement however. If I had to have the car towed out of one of the garages, it would have been very hard to get a giant flatbed up on the apron, so since the car was on the road - things were already looking up! I motored happily along for all of 1 mile when the car suddenly shut down. I guided the 4-wheeled paperweight gently to the curb in front of a house that happened to be for sale, on an attractive suburban neighborhood street.

I was not too exasperated since I told you that I had steeled myself previously for just such good fortune. I called the Auto Club and they told me a truck would arrive within 45 minutes. I don’t believe them. In the past 45 minutes usually means they will arrive in 35 minutes on the outside. I really need to use the restroom but I am a mile from home in one direction and a mile from a park porta potty in the other. I briefly think about all the diuretics I had for breakfast, then I think about asking to use the restroom of the house that’s for sale. I ultimately decide it is not the best way to meet new neighbors, so I choose to walk instead and try to forget my dilated bladder. I can’t risk trying to get to my house and back before the flatbed truck arrives, so I essentially walk in big circles around my car.

Now despite over 275 blog stories which prove otherwise, I am not an idiot. I know it is not exactly normal behavior for a middle aged geezer to be walking in a race track pattern up and down the street, reversing course and doing it all over again … and again … and … But at the same time, I’m clearly no threat. It’s hot out and I’m sweating like a big warmed over suckling pig. I am careful not to loiter too long in front of anyone’s home so they don’t get concerned that a sweaty yeti is on the loose. My daughter’s car is a conspicuously bright red convertible and therefore a lousy 'get-away' car. It also barely holds people much less contraband or 'ham-Burglar' tools – so what’s to fear?

Well apparently quite a bit because, though I had only been walking in circles for about 15 minutes, I first noted a County police car slowly pass me and then another police car behind him. As they went up about a block they made a ‘U turn’ and headed back my way. By that time, a Paddy Wagon police truck pulled up behind me and in front of my disabled car. I kept walking calmly but knew what was coming. The first two policemen pulled behind my car and made a visit to the ‘house for sale’. By then I had rounded my race track and was walking back towards the whole gaggle of County servants. One policeman crossed the road to intercept me politely but with his right hand clearly resting on his holster.

I have to admit I was none too pleased and less receptive to public interrogation than usual. (One tiny murder spree and the police seem to hold that against you forever) I was polite but obviously curt and disgusted. Jeez, couldn’t you have waited at least 30 minutes into my walk to break up the monotony a little? Now all of the excitement is front loaded and I will be bored until the Auto Club gets here. Apparently I checked out ok because the police quickly determined I was not going to hurt the occupant of that house with the sign in the lawn. I told the cop “The house is for sale – all kinds of unknown people will be hanging around it for the next 3 months”. Thank goodness my daughter did not have some horrible outstanding warrant on the car that she had forgotten to mention. As the police officer started to walk back to his car, I told him to let the worried lady know that ‘I still would be out here skulking around until the truck comes for my car’. He glared at me and said he intended to. I don't think he liked me or he was still suspicious of my intentions. I didn't mean anything by the excessive fidgeting and wild-eyed crazed looks - remember I had to go to the bathroom!

93 minutes I trod the sidewalks until that dumb Auto Club truck came. I cannot tell you how happy I was to get away from that stupid house that was for sale. Part of me wants to take a check over for the full purchase price of that dump and TEAR IT UP in front of the owner’s face and tell her I would have bought the place until she called the cops on me. I have a better idea though. Every day for the next month or so, I am going to tow some kind of registered vehicle I own and park it in front of her house. Who knows, I may even get some illegal aliens and we will sell tacos and schnitzel there too? Surely someone around her needs a big old truckload of manure to fertilize their lawn right? I know where she lives and I know she won’t mind any of it – as long as I don’t walk in circles around her house.

Turkeys in straw and ice cream trucks

Though bulky, I'm not generally what you would call a ‘bulk’ ice cream fan. Don’t get me wrong, those frozen tubs of fat and sugar do taste great and I am nothing if not a receptive and charitable host for homeless, empty calories. It’s just that if all things are even in poor health choices, I prefer to die a salty, hospice assisted death with true friends at my side – salted peanuts in the shell and a ‘family-size’ bag of cheesy, crunchy Doritos.

Now individually wrapped, frozen confections on the other hand , if the weather is steamy and my undergarments are the same, then ‘heck yeah’- I’m there! Just point me toward any garish musical van, driven by a down and out, unshaven nut in a paper hat. I’ll never get tired of staring at those colorful circus posters of icy creamy treats with their endless taunting caloric possibilities.

So to jog your memory a bit (since after ice cream you’ll need the exercise), I have linked HERE a site that has collected 15 pictures of some unusual ice cream trucks. If any of these beauties fits seamlessly into your neighborhood, then I would suggest you buy ice cream ONLY in front of the police station. If that doesn’t scare you away then I’ve linked HERE the ‘Eat This Not That’ guy’s nutritional assessment of many ice cream truck favorites. I think, as expected, he pretty much ‘hits the nail on the coffin’ for most of these calorie bombs. From my personal experience however, even if you know you’ll never earn enough ‘brownie’ points to ‘die and go to heaven’ – risk a ‘Choco Taco’ at least once, and give it a try anyway.

I have linked HERE a guy who wrote and sells a WHOLE ALBUM centered around original, ice cream truck inspired music with audio clips to boot. I honestly feel a bit sorry for this guy because except for pedophiles and other unicycle enthusiasts, who is going to listen to this stuff? Truly I want to encourage online commerce, because who knows someday, I may want to sell some of my old black n’ white striped prison P.J.'s and Snuggies on this blog? Finally, I have linked HERE the sad result from believing that ice cream is a food group all unto itself. On the positive side, our disheveled dancing Shrek friend proves that everyone loves ‘Turkey in the straw’ and it’s never too late to start on a fitness and exercise plan. Enjoy!

A Toast To Truckers

I was driving around today doing some errands and I came across a local soda bottling plant that bills itself as the ‘Billion Bubble Company’ or something like that. I also noticed that hunkered up to the dock bay at the billion bubble company was a giant 18 wheeler tagged as a load of ‘Carbon Dioxide’. So if the building has a billion in it, how many bubbles do you think might be in that big truck?

So I wonder what it is like essentially being a truck driver for stuff that people ‘Burp’ all day long. In fact what is it like to truck any of that oddball inexpensive stuff that nobody thinks about? I gotta believe that there is probably a trucking hierarchy for such things mandated by a 100 page long union contract. For job protection, the old timer truckers probably get the Kleenix shipments since every place you go, there are at least ten different pastel colored boxes of this stuff. In fact in grade school now, every parent is expected to send 3 boxes with the kid and the ten-ply puffy moisturized ones are priced like gold.

The truckers that have been around a few years, well they get the paper towels. Those are mostly just used in kitchens and as napkins at BBQ joints so not as popular as ‘nose tissue’ but pretty universal still. All the greenhorn truckers get the toilet paper loads. Yeah everyone uses the stuff, but nobody really wants to admit to it much less haul it around. For most things and people in life, you gotta believe that things will end up ‘OK’, but NOPE not for toilet paper. Everyone knows that there is no future there because when the END is near, you are heading for the sewer - no doubt about it.

So here’s a toast to the truckers who move all those bubbles , rags, and seemingly worthless stuff that all of us use every day. Tonight after a big pig-rib dinner, wipe your saucy face, then smile for a nameless trucker. Blow your nose and snort a laugh or two for our cowboys of the open road. And don’t forget to raise a glass of bubbles, and bellow a belch for freedom to our tanned and hairy diesel heroes. You’ll have to move around for an hour or so and wait before you’ll be able to offer up your final trucker salute. But remember, all good things are worth the wait, so you are just going to have to ‘Grin and Bear it’!