the lord our savior

June and July 2001


An archive of the lord our savior's beloved baby jesus editorials between June and July 2001. Topics include lawsuits, toothpaste, shark attacks, gun control, material posessions, family obligations and rush hour traffic.



7/29/01
People really do sue anyone for anything nowadays. I can understand suing McDonalds when you find a chicken-head in your McNuggets, but today I read in that someone is suing Kellogg, claiming a Pop Tart started a house fire. Get this. A woman put a Pop Tart in her toaster and left to drive her kids to school. When she came back her house was burning. How can she possibly claim that it was Kellogg's, or the Pop-Tart's fault? Is it possible that while she was gone, the Pop Tart climbed out of the toaster, took some matches and wood, and set the house ablaze? Or maybe Kellogg sent out a batch of Pop-Tarts filled with gasoline? The only hope this woman has of winning is that one of these two scenarios is true.

Kellogg should be suing this woman for slander. Who puts things in the toaster and leaves the house? This woman got exactly what she deserved and I hope the courts not only find her claims absurd, but also rule she is no longer allowed to use any house-hold appliance without the supervision of someone more intelligent.

A Kellogg spokesman said Pop-Tarts do not cause fires and are safe. I guess I won't take them out of my cupboard and put them in a fireproof safe.


7/28/01
As further proof that I am just a dumb cow, I must admit that when in the process of making a decision about where to eat, I consider whether or not I'll have the opportunity to win something. Monopoly is the prime example of this. Normally, I eat at McDonalds once, maybe twice a month, tops. But, when the Monopoly game is on, I frequent McD's almost twice a week. Now, I know that the odds of winning anything more than another burger are nil, but so long as Monopoly is being played, I can't resist. If all fast food restaurants had games as such, I would probably eat at those places more frequently.

Because of my love of Monopoly, I've vowed that before I die I will win one of the prizes. This means, that I will work to accumulate wealth, so that as I near the last years of my life, I can begin buying as many McDonald's meals as possible. I figure it'll be a good investment.


7/23/01
If you weighed all the living creatures on earth, what percentage of the weight would ants make up?

Answer: 10 percent.

I love insects. I wish there was a tv channel that only had specials about insects, mainly ants and bees/wasps. I would watch it all day.


7/15/01
How expensive is toothpaste? I only ask because my family seems to think it's a valuable commodity. Once we start on a tube, we don't give up on that shit until every last scrap of paste is out. We squeeze, we roll, we place the tube on the counter and "squeegee" the paste to the front so we can get out every last ounce. At some point, the tube is cut open so we can dip our brushes in. Why can't we just get a new tube when the old one gets low?


7/10/01
For anyone who hasn't heard or doesn't know, and even for those who do, I have to speak briefly about a shark attack. I heard about it from someone at work, so all my information may not be accurate, but the general idea is there. Basically, an eight year old boy was swimming in Florida when a shark swam up and bit his arm off. That's right, off. The boy lost all his blood, was rushed to the hospital. When he arrived, the put more blood in him and sewed his arm back on. The boy lived, miraculously.

How, you might ask, did they get the boy's arm back? Well, the boy's uncle grabbed the shark and dragged it onto the beach where it was shot, it's mouth was pried open and the boy's arm was retrieved.

We're talking about a seven foot shark. A shark weighing over two hundred pounds. A shark in the water, in it's natural environment. For anyone who's ever been fishing and snagged a big fish, remember how hard it is to reel that fish in. How hard it fights. And it's that hard when you have a hook in it's mouth. Now imagine having to jump in the water and grab that slippery fucker with your bare hands. And imagine that fish is twenty times heavier and stonger than the one you caught fishing. Holy shit.

Now I'm not sure if the uncle was really thinking that he needed to get the shark so they could save the boy's arm, or if he was in some sort of revenge seeking rage, but to be sure, anything other than "shit, shark, I better get out of the water" is strange to me. That man is either a real hero or a real idiot.

You know who is an idiot? The shark. What the hell was the shark thinking? After you bite a boys arm off, you better swim away. Don't hang around to see what's going to happen next. And when someone grabs you, swim away! It shouldn't be that hard. You're a shark. A predator of the sea. You were wrestling with a human, who though smart, are about the weakest animals, pound for pound, on the planet. Not to mention that humans don't exactly take to the water naturally.

Either way, this was an amazing story.


June




6/26/01
Why is it that whenever I have to wait for something, I suddenly need to use the bathroom. As soon as I'm standing still, waiting for something, whether it be a copy machine or the line in a grocery store, the need to urinate becomes very urgent. I shift back and forth, holding off the urge until I've completed my task, then, as soon as I'm done, the feeling goes away. I think I'm allergic to waiting.

In the land of auto repairs, I think that good service is hard to find. That's why I was so pleased with Steve at A Auto Point Collision. Thanks, Steve.


6/20/01
Excuse me for getting a little political for no reason, but I think anyone who argues that we need to protect our right to bear arms is a lunatic. I've seen the statistics on the number of gun killings in America vs. other countries. I've seen the statistics about what happens in homes with guns. How can people argue with this? Do they really think that the people in America need guns? That we need to protect ourselves? Get a lock on your door. Buy a stun gun. You want to hunt, fine, I won't argue about rifles, but handguns and "good killin, fast firing" guns can go.

Mostly, I base my argument on the fact that I will never allow myself to own or even hold a gun. Nothing good could ever come from that. I'm too god-damned curious. I already know I'd keep it in some sort of drawer. Then I'd visit that drawer with increasing frequency over time, taking out the gun and holding it, pretending to fire it. It would only be a matter of time before I had to find out if I could actually shoot someone. And then I would.

And that, Big Legs, is why if I ever ask you "can we come back and shoot a gun later?" you should say "no."
Especially when I'm drunk.


6/19/01
There are those who think that material posessions are worth very little, and that people who fill their lives with these posessions are shallow. We call people who believe this "poor people in denial." Haven't you ever just wanted something? Not because you necessarily need it, or because you will use it a lot, but just because you want it.

I cite my minidisc player and my cell phone as examples. I hardly ever use my minidisc player, and my phone cost $140 more than I needed to spend. But you know what? I was happy after I bought those things. I'm happy that I own them. I can't explain why I wanted them. I don't think I ever thought, "I'll be happy after I have these items." But my brain said, "you should buy this." Perhaps it is a sign of how stupid I am, that I sometimes don't question what my brain says. But perhaps it is true that people have always wanted material posessions.

I'd wager that even people who live in the woods and criticize those who have Porches or $1000 shoes posess materials. Like a really good walking stick. Or a nice rock to sit on. And if they didn't have them, their brains would tell them, "you should look for a stick." Just because that stick is free doesn't mean it's not a material posession. It just happens that people who drive a $130,000 stick make a lot more money than the woods-livers.

Point is, material posessions are good. Sometimes great. As I make more money, I'll buy more good things. This is not to say that I can't be happy without material objects, but rather, I think we should respect and admire those who don't question what their brains are telling them.

Want on. Buy on. Congratulations Shannon.


6/18/01
It's my birthday. I don't like birthdays anymore. People feel obligated to say Happy Birthday, give you cards and presents. And it is nice, getting gifts. You certainly can't argue with "something for nothing" or "free is free", but the attention of birthdays makes me uncomfortable now. Stupid Birthdays.

Also, I can't recover from drinking like I used to. I'm tired and sick and cranky, and it's been over 24 hours since I passed out. Good night, and Happy Birthday to everyone.

Also, I don't like cake. Cheesecake is an exception, but it's not really a cake, now is it? How about some birthday pie?


6/11/01
From now on, remind me not to golf in a two-some. Chances are you get teamed up with people you don't really want to ever talk to, let alone spend three hours with. Three hours that were meant to be filled with relaxation, concentration and all around joy. Instead, today I was stuck playing with "George", who based on his dialogue, I guess to be some sort of construction contractor.

God-damned George ran his mouth non-stop the entire round. His lively commentary on each of his shots and colorful excuses for his consistent poor play ensured that my round was not as good as I had hoped. I knew I was in trouble when he was paying for his round in the pro-shop and he spent ten minutes with the 60 year old lady working the desk discussing what kind of balls to purchase.

"Hark, is that my ball on the fairway?" Really, half of George's talk should have been the quote-unquote of the day. There's a reason it pays to play at a more expensive course. More expensive usually equals people who understand the game and the importance of ssshhhhhh.


6/10/01
Why is it that events with extended family are so important to people(at least in my family)? Granted, to me family has always been a priority and I make an effort to get to most events. However, I have a cousin who's graduating from high school next weekend. I seldom see him more that once or twice a year. Also next weekend, one of my friends is flying in from LA. I made the choice to skip the graduation party and go up north golfing with my friends instead.

Now my parents are giving me business about it. "You have to realize family obligations." Obligations? Is that what family gatherings are? If that's the case, then I'm glad I'm not going. I've got enough obligations as it is. The last thing I need to for people to try guilting me into attending an event. "They came to yours." Great. I wrote them a thank you note. But please respect the fact that I'm a grown up (sort of) and I can make my own decisions and set my own priorities.

The simple fact is, I was roommates with my friend for three years. We e-mail most every day. I probably won't have another chance to hang out with him for almost another year. So, would I rather go sit in someone's backyard and have the same conversation with 30 people who I only talk to occasionally, or instead would I rather go up north with four friends from college, who I still talk (via e-mail) every day, and play golf and have fun? Hmmmm...

I love my family, but the decision here was clear. Do I feel bad? Sure, a little bit. Will people miss me at the party? Probably not more than to ask where I am. Will my family think a little less of me when they find out where I am? Probably. But they shouldn't. Oh well. End of discussion.

Earlier this month I stated that drive in movies are good. Well, I failed to mention that they are good not only because of drinking beer in your car, but also if you have someone special with you. And if you can rub their privates, that too is a plus.


6/8/01
If I ever murder someone, it will be during or after rush hour traffic. How is it possible that no matter how I try and go home, traffic is at a standstill? No matter what time I leave work. No matter which roads I take. It seems that the state of Michigan has decided make the building where I work the epicenter of its construction earthquake. Every road, every highway is riddled with construction, construction that seems to return each spring, but in a slightly different location. And the thing is, the roads never get any better.

I've left work in a great mood, and within minutes I reach a traffic jam. Still my mood is good, because in my head I have a way to avoid the jam and continue on my way. So, after a few sly turns, I am back on a road that seems to be moving steadily along. For one minute. Then I am in a standstill twice as long as the last. Repeat several times and all of a sudden you've been driving for 45 mintues to cover a distance that should take only ten minutes.

There are numerous brilliant people in the world. With the number of people that are tortured by this "traffic" nightmare, which can also be called "construction" or "poorly timed lights that only allow six cars to go through," you'd think someone would be working on this. But, alas, year after year we suffer the same madness.

How can Europe have country upon country with virtually flawless public transporation systems, while America feebily repairs its roads and allows its citizens to sit, brewing in their hatred, on congested, construction-infected roads? Huh?


6/7/01
Besides rancid milk, there is another smell that turns my stomach, but to a lesser degree. That smell, my friends, is the scent of dentists' and doctors' offices. What, exactly, the odor is, I'm not sure. But it's fairly strong and is consistent from one office to the next. Most likely, it is because nothing good ever happens in these offices. Each time I visit the dentist it results in some type of painful prodding and drilling. My teeth were not meant to be poked with a sharp metal jabber-thing, nor drilled with that whiney, whistley item tham makes my mouth smoke and my toes curl up in my shoes. No matter the reason, these offices smell bad. And, unfortunately, the poor people who work there take on the smell of their surroundings. Yesterday a man got on the elevator and he was clearly some sort of medical person. He smelled like his office. He stunk up the whole elevator. How is that possible?

A more disturbing thing I noticed was that not only was he rank, but he also failed to wear an undershirt beneath his little blue pajama work-shirt. Are you kidding? If any dentist ever thinks he is going to put his hands in my mouth when his chest hair is bushelling out of his paper-thin smock, he is sorely mistaken. Aren't there some sort of rules about that?


6/5/01

When one day I am at a senior level in a company, I hope I have some grasp of the day to day workings of said company. Recently, I've been working on a project and a man 3-4 levels my senior is in charge. Because it's not a typical project, the man has his hands in everything. He skips things that need to be done, half-asses some things, basks in the project's glory, and worst of all, repeatedly nags me about the smallest detail. Not only will he call me several times in a day to make sure something's getting done, but his secretary, who always sounds like she has a cold, also will call once or twice. That's 5 calls to make sure I do something like "get a kid's name." I'll get the damned kid's name. I'm a grown-ass man doing my job, I wish they would just let me do it.

Also, because he has no sense of the process down the ladder and because he doesn't ever familiarize himself with the timeline, he complains about people "not doing their job" or "holding things up." He walks around, his giant, idiot head bouning back and forth like a bobble-head doll, running his mouth and making people look bad who had been doing a great job in real life.

And what really threw a log on my resentment, anger fire was a problem we had. The details are not important, it is only important to know that if you paid attention to the details the problem was difficult to solve. If you were an idiot, you'd see the obvious wrong solution to the problem. Well, Idiot, returns my call about the problem and proceeds to leave perhaps the most condescending message I've ever been left, outlining the obvious wrong solution. In the end, the problem was solved and I told him the solution. Please, god, if I ever get that way, fire my ass and make me get an entry level position so I remember not to be an Idiot.


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