Eau du Loterie

Despite what your local state might spout, playing the lottery is not exactly a smart investment choice. Yeah I know supposedly the money goes to schools and of course there is nothing wrong with sticking a quick pick tick in your sock for a special occasion. But remember even if your talcumed tootsies are extra minty fresh, no matter how the odds appear to nod, the true motto of the lotto is definitely NOTTO! 

Instead of having NO CHANCE to win I prefer to take a gamble on life’s little lotteries that seem to pop up every day. You know the ones, where the local fast food chain will let you play some lame game to win a ‘buy one get one’ burger or fries for free. Oh sure you scoff now, but how many times have you put a buck down on the state lottery and DOUBLED your money – worse still, even with BBQ sauce those rub-off tickkies aren’t too tasty.

I also noticed that even Lay’s, the potato chip people have a million dollar prize for simply suggesting a new flavor combo idea for their crisps. Now believe me, this is the kind of lottery that I should have in the BAG! I have spent years out-sizing belts and blowing buttons to research the best flavored snack foods so imagine my delight in the thought of possibly getting PAID back in something other than empty calories.

So while weekly 50 million folks fixate on their springy ping pong power balls and weave dreams and high hopes that their days are TRULY numbered, I will be enjoying an even better combo of crispy chips and a sensational salty opportunity of my own. Yeah I know the odds are still against me since it's doubtful that the Fates and haters will ever truly appreciate my 'baked bean n' egg flavored 'taters'. Don't worry though, my feelings won't get hurt. Like ALL lotteries after playing, it's not the bad taste that they leave in your mouth - it's just that they all STINK!

Crabby Cabbie Commentary

In my world traveling would be the perfect form of recreation if  I did not have to go anywhere. Now I know that sounds strange, but think about it – everyone likes a nice hotel room, a day at the beach, or a chance to see a famous museum, but it is the getting there that is the pain. Who wants to get up early to have some handsy TSA agent examine your crack of dawn and fondle your pits n’ olives after paying $30 to ride in the back of some dingy yellow cab to get there. I don’t even like riding in my own smelly dirty car so why would I ever enjoy paying for that privilege in somebody else’s?

After 50 years of cabbies and chauffeurs why can’t I find somebody reasonably ‘normal’ to hustle my muscle and load my lard around? I think I must exude some kind of attractant from my numb skull to my  hammered toes that smells like bacon and is JUST as good for you. Doesn’t anyone who drives a truck, bus, car, or limo for a living look or sound like my parents or even their parents for that matter? Who makes up this alien amalgam that is spawning these ‘drivers of the corn’ covered in hair, cologne, tattoos, or all three in ample quantity.

Don’t get me wrong, I DO respect these folks if for no other reason than the fact that they will let me ride around in their vehicles any time of day, no matter how sweaty, gassy, or a glassy-eyed I am. I just think it is weird that some of these dudes look so scary, talk too much, too little, or not at all.  You would think in a job where you interact with the public regularly, it would demand a somewhat subdued and standard image which people other than gang-members & the Manson family can relate to.

Then again maybe I am being too superficial and judgmental . After all I can only chuckle at the fearful recoil my wolf-like gate and gorilla physique have struck into mere mortals when I’m wild eyed and in search of an unoccupied airport restroom after one too many Big Gulps. Hmmm, maybe that’s the REAL reason for my Cabbie conundrum – they all should all be driving ‘Porta Potties’ instead of taxis – though honestly, at least in my experience, I’m not sure I could even tell the difference!

 

My Daring Passage to Goodwill

No I’m not too snobby for ‘o-K’ and ‘Wally-Mart’ but sadly even THEY are too sophisticated for my slow brow quirky tastes in quality and craft. Yes I’m that rare geek breed that heeds the need to feed his penchant for culling through the splits n’ stains at thrift stores. Though the better than new prices are nice, the real attraction for me to these dens of discounts is the ‘love of the hunt’ for the unique rather than just saving money. I know that sounds misguided and frivolous in these tight times, but ‘un-holey’ fashion undies tend to be expensive and I’m always in need of something other than pancakes to press through the ‘ol laundry mangle. 

Though I’m not really a board-game player by nature, I do easily get bored and GAMEY playing them. Despite this fact, I’m always drawn to search the thrift store toy aisle for tot treasures especially since my sister-in-law is coming to visit and she loves to try new games. On a recent rainy-day excursion I was not disappointed as I found an interestingly packaged board game of famous quotes called ‘Daring Passages’ crammed into its own Magnum-sized plastic wine bottle. 

I enthusiastically groped the bottled-up game with fondness and intent to purchase but soon realized that my frumpy presence in a Goodwill, while gripping a big bottle of wine by the neck, did not ‘look’ as anonymous as I typically prefer. Other than by the case, there is no truly elegant way to carry a wine bottle around in a store and I had neglected to get a basket when arriving earlier. Despite my best efforts, no matter how I hugged or lugged that jug, I admit it - I fit the perfect profile of a wandering wino wagging his vessel of  vino for all to see.

Sure enough it was not but five minutes before a jerk of a clerk came to check up on me. I think he came to kick me out of the shop if required, but maybe that was only because I was wearing an over-sized khaki raincoat with no pants underneath? I proved to him that the big black wine bottle was just a board game and he chuckled reassuringly, yet still distrustful of my slurred speech and incessant foot dragging. Hmmm, the next time I visit that place, I had better wear longer shorts, use a shopping cart … and think twice before downing a double dose of NyQuil for breakfast!

‘KEYeed OFF'

You know as I get older I always thought I would have had to deal with LESS keys not more of them. When I was a much thinner and harrier Silverback, the more nesting plastic keys I had meant more access to secret spaces and restricted places like the zookeeper’s stash of ‘the good’ bananas and ‘bark’free’ toilet paper! Every suitcase, mailbox, crossword puzzle, city and even PIANOS have KEYS to show off, so I grew up thinking they were cool and ever-empowering.

As time has progressed I have sickened of explaining to hobos that it is the metal KEYS, not coins, jangling in my pocket and ‘NO I have never been happy to see them’. Like children, I started coding my keys with those little colored rubber bonnets that you strap on their heads to quiet them and tell them apart. With the addition of chunky remote car locks, my ‘key wad’ has seemed to grow exponentially larger n’ looser, just at the age when my pants are becoming uncomfortably tighter and smaller.

Now some sadistic marketing whiz has come up with even more fob foibles to foil me. Yes every supermarket, big box store, gas station, and even the libraries are pushing plastic bar-coded club-cards to clutter-up and post claim to my bloated pockets and ever-expanding key chain. Will this mistreatment to cotton and polyester never end – after all I am already blowing-out a bigger GAP in the stretch panel of my manly maternity jeans, even WITHOUT the keys.

I’m sick of thumbing and fumbling through decks of club cards and keys that are all nearly the same size and all look alike. Whatever happened to the dream of having a key-free society where I could lop off a lock of DNA, stare down a retina eye scan, or simply raise up a single finger in disdain to access security accounts and private places? I’m clearly getting too old for lots of locks and their weighty chains of protection. I think I need to retire to a warm, care-free place where there is nothing worth locking up and the pants are ALWAYS optional – the FLORIDA KEYS!   

Double DOOTIE

The other day I was on the hunt for some waxed paper. After venturing to two mega-chain stores and finding none, I pondered that it may be true – BEES like their honey-money but rarely ‘wax on’ about anything else except pollen. Of course I found parchment paper but now my quills were in a bunch and I didn’t have the constitution to buy any. The stores had some napkins, a few brawny bundles of paper towels, but the real news was the GIANT Panda sized pallets of toilet paper.

Considering where it mostly ends up, I am amazed that apparently all other household paper products have literally taken a BACK SEAT to the ‘potty papyrus’. Do people really need to buy truckloads of this stuff now and if so, what’s changed in society since I was a kid? Maybe all those greasy buffet restaurants are finally taking their toll on the country and starting to hit below the beltline too.

 I know the average size of households has dropped but obviously whoever’s left in those houses seem to be ‘dropping’ an awful lot MORE! Maybe the problem is that the manufacturers are rolling only about 4 sheets of paper on a ‘standard’ toilet roll and only marginally more product on the large and super sized rolls. Why do we need all of these roll sizes when everybody’s anatomy is essentially the same anyway and the BOTTOM line is that eventually all of the paper gets used and abused just the same.

I think if we were mainly worried about sheet count then why not sell those industrial size rolls which are the size of my head and then I’ll only need to buy one roll of toilet paper per year. Or better yet let’s just make the sheet size a little wider and continuous like foil or my elusive waxed paper. You don’t see cooks and bakers dumb enough to PRODUCE QUALITY on a 4 inch strip of those products do you so why should I be expected to do it too in the loo? Yeah the cellophane and foil are out for sure, but I’m starting to think those rolls of paper towels are looking like the perfect double-DUTY solution to wipe my cares away not only the kitchen, but in the bathroom as well!