Sustainabilty

When did "sustainability" become synonymous for social responsibility? I mean the word just doesn't conjure up visions of being "green." In fact, when did a color become synonymous for "sustainability?" Wasn't that Kermit's domain anyway? Who'd have thought that he would become reference in our blog? Just a few short years ago, I would have thought that "sustainability" referred to those girly-men out there who weren't able to prolong their manhood, kind of like Nathan who buy's Viagra in Club Packs at Costco.

Technology and Martin Luther King

Some people think that technology, like facebook for instance, limits normal social interaction, but I believe that it actually increases the likelihood that we stay in touch with a wider relationship network than we normally would. Think about the pre-internet days. Did we ever really get to know our neighbors? Do we still? How often have you entertained a block party? An orgy? I think not. So my point being that technology has allowed us to further explore relationships outside the confinement of the home, AND created a new world where people are truly equal. In fact, you can create an avator or virtual life that is completely separate from who you may be in reality. Race, color, religion etc. is not important, but may be quite obvious based on your published comments. The beauty of all this is people are judged not by the color of their skin, but by their character. Thank you, MLK. By the way, why do we always mention "creed" whenever we discuss discrimination? When was the last time you criticized someone over their creed? What does a rock band have to do with it anyway?

Connected

Some guys may have all the luck, but I now have a twitter account AND Google Voice! So even though you will incur long distance charges to Nova Scotia calling me on my single number, I can access my calls through cell, home, or office! I love technology almost as much as I love oysters served by Britney Spears in the raw. Call me, I'm wired, connected, in touch, and global.

Blago Blog

With the recent discovery of corruption in the Illinois Governor's office, one has to take some time to contemplate the state of political affairs. Is it the nature of the environment to survive in government these days to be unethical? Or is it the inherent nature of the individual who is predisposed to being corrupt just attracted to politics? Or could it possibly be the incredible thick hair of the heir apparent to Gov. Ryan? Speaking of Ryan, if he was so bad, why did they name an expressway after him in Chicago? Matter of time before Blagoveich Blvd. rears it's ugly (but thick hair on) head.

Privacy Under Pressure!

Ever feel that nothing's ever private anymore? Take for instance, the workplace. Now, I know they always say that your email and telephone conversations belong to your employer, and I fully understand that it is a priviledge, but how about an office? Shouldn't one feel somewhat secure behind a closed door? Too often, I find myself trying to get caught up on messages only to have that knock on my door asking if I'm busy. Duh? Why would I have my door closed if I want to speak to someone? Because I am the polite dolt, I typically will let them in. This is based on prior history when I would ignore the knocking, only to be greeted by further persistant knocking. As I opened the door, the person assumed that since he did not hear voices (indicating a meeting) that I was available!

This leads me to my present day dilemma. So after heaving down a large, supersized, bowl of extra creamy New England Clam Chowder at my desk, I found my lactose intolerant bowls twitching. I'll leave out the details and let you assume the rest. Behind my closed door sauna, I found myself in the relaxed comfort of my office scanning my emails today. Before I could launch into another long, drawn out message, I heard that startling knock at my door. As the pressure mounted, and the tension in the air filled, I came under a strange dilemma: Should I just play quiet in the hopes that my interrupting visitor would just leave or risk that my sealed office would reveal my obvious lactose intolerance issue?

The People Have Spoken

Barack Hussein Obama has officially been elected as the next President of the United States. This is really an accomplishment considering that he had to overcome such an unusual name. Meanwhile, the Republicans have already begun gearing up for the 2012 presidential election - Mitt Romney announced today that he was legally changing his middle name to Bin Laden.

Ring Tones

In this age of technology, you can hear the most popular and inane tunes when a phone rings. In fact, you can typically hear an obsure tune play instead of the typical electronic rings on a cell that you used to hear when they first came out. What I'm puzzled about is the inablilty to actually program a recorded voice to play back that's linked to caller ID. Invention (you heard it hear first) alert: Why don't they set up a way so when a caller calls, a voice prompts you that "it's your battle axe of a mother-in-law calling, please ignore the fat tub of goo!" or the more telling "it's your sexy nymphomanic girlfriend, drop everything and answer before she changes her mind!" Imagine the possibilities, if your boss calls: "Mr. arrogant bastard is checking up on his minions, better answer and break out the chapstick because he's gonna need a kiss-up" or the bill collector: "thank you sir, may I have another!"

There can be no end to the creative madness!

Driving Me Crazy!

Growing up as a precocious child, I was always curious about driving a vehicle. My first recollection was riding a bus, and being amazed at the enormous size of the vehicle. After dropping in the fare into the glass coin box, I sat in the front seat and watched a huge black man steer the bus into the traffic. As he made each stop, he was careful to open the door and greet each customer with a smile. My most vivid memory is actually the steering wheel, and the drivers ability to move the wheel with great effort. Not only was power steering probably a luxury, I'm not sure if it was even invented at the time, so a driver must have been pretty strong to overcome the physics of steering a bus of such size and weight. To compensate, I believe each bus was outfitted with a larger than life steer wheel. In fact, I think it would be difficult for even Atlas to be able to carry it on his shoulders. I imagine such a steering wheel would be protruding from the side windows in a normal car today.

I often think about how much easier and fun it would be to drive with such a large steering wheel. Only a few inches of movement would surely allow one to make a 45 degree turn. I couldn't even imagine how large an air back it could contain, probably an air mattress, so you can believe that it would be safe! I would even bet that it could serve as a hula hoop and snare a thrown driver in the event of a front end collision. Imagine being saved in an accident and being able to compete in Ringling Bros. at the same time!

Pardon My French!

I've never cared for the expression "pardon my french". Naturally, to show my disdain, I began to use the expression myself with what I hoped was a sarcastic tone. It now occurs to me that the subtlety of my tone may be lost on the casual listener - I could be one that others look upon with the same disdain that I have.

All I can say is "L'enfer avec cette merde". I don't think FreeTranslation.com quite handled my expression correctly though. Oh well, pardon my french!

Scratch Pad

I was having a meeting with someone I hadn't met before, and for some reason, during the middle of the conversation, I completely forgot his name. I typically would like to mention a person's name in such a meeting to further a point, but simply could not figure out who he was. I tried to cheat to see if I could read his ID badge but unfortunately, it had been turned in such a matter that it was impossible to read. I wanted to resort to looking him up, but could not do so nonchalantly during the discussion. He also liberally mentioned my name during our discussion, and it started to become awkward when I just kept interjecting, "you know," in place of his name.

What really worried me, however, was that with the onset of fall's colder temperature, I realized that my skin was getting dry and increasingly itchy in the low humidity in my office, particularly in the deep recessed channel of my back where you just could not humanly reach unless you were a certified circus acrobat. As I became fidgety in my chair, I wanted to ask my cohort to scratch my back, but thought the better of it since I could not remember his name. The mere thought of someone putting their unsanitary hand down my back to scratch somehow seemed unappealing until I realized that I REALLY NEEDED this itch to be scratched!

What would you do?