Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Entrepreneurial Spirit

Growing up, there was a supermarket distributor who lived on our block. As kids, we never gave the guy much thought, until one morning, when walking up the road to catch the school bus, we noticed his trash. Sitting out at the curb, awaiting the garbage collectors, were two cases of Bubble Yum. Huge cardboard boxes, filled with individual boxes of gum.

As a seventh grader, this was like finding a gold mine. So naturally, me and two other kids that lived on the street filled our book bags with gum. We found out that a normal sized book bag will hold about 10 boxes of bubble gum, if stuffed just right. We left behind destroyed, and now empty, cardboard boxes and our textbooks which we discretely hid in the neighbor's shrubs. The quest for knowledge had nothing on multiple packs of free bubble gum.

In our seventh grade mindset, we never once gave thought as to why this gum was out on the curb. Does gum go bad? Is there an expiration date for gum? These were questions that only briefly crossed our minds. But after Pete tried an experimental piece and didn't end up dying, the gum got our stamp of approval. And so we chewed gum the entire school day...grape during math, watermelon throughout English, strawberry in social studies, and even snuck a piece while playing dodgeball during gym. When a teacher would notice us chomping away and ordered us to spit it out, another piece was inserted into our mouths the minute we sat back down at our desk.

Our chewing habits became known throughout the day, and with a plethora of gum stashed away in our lockers, a black market gum business took hold. Twenty five cents a pack, in between classes, at one of our lockers. By the end of the week we had cleared about ten dollars each, and were flying high on a major sugar rush.

Every week after that, we dug through that guy's garbage. We even expanded our search to include the trash of our other neighbors. Unfortunately, we never found anything else of value...though my friend Mike did find an old People magazine that had a picture of Madonna on the cover. And despite a small coffee ground stain, he was able to get a dime for it from some kid in his study hall, but our golden gum days were done, our cash cow was gone.

And our entire fortune had been squandered on potato chips and extra orders of fries during lunch. If I could go back, I definitely would have invested those hard earned quarters more wisely. And, of course, I wouldn't have had to go through withdraw from the two pack a day habit that I developed.


Sunday, December 26, 2004
Bathroom Recreation

Many people enjoy catching up on their reading while on the can, which is why many bathrooms across the country are stocked with past issues of Newsweek, Sports Illustrated and Motor Trend. And it's my belief that if libraries were stocked with toilet stalls rather than those uncomfortable wooden chairs, much more reading would get done there.

My father, on the other hand, rarely illuminates his mind while on the toilet by reading up on monthly periodicals. Rather, he plays Yahtzee. When we see him arm himself with that little, hand-held Yahtzee game and head into the bathroom, we know that we won't be seeing him again for quite awhile.

And while most fathers are reading up on the latest million dollar trade that the Yankees have made, or the newest model that Corvette will be unveiling, my dad is trying to beat his previous high score by stringing multiple Yahtzee's together. We're all aware of his game playing habits, so this year my sister decided that, for this Holiday Season, she would try to broaden his bathroom experience by getting him another game to enjoy while sitting on the can.

She found a miniature virtual reality racing game, complete with 3D glasses that you slip on to make the racing experience that much more life like...or as life like a $20 virtual racing game can be.  "He loves watching NASCAR," she reasoned, "so I'm positive that this is something he's really going to like!"

After dad opened her present, and my sister explained the thought process behind her purchase, I couldn't help but think of the perils that this type of gift might bring about. So I pointed out that perhaps a virtual reality game might be best kept out of the bathroom.  I could just imagine dad on the toilet, virtual glasses in place, taking hard right turns, veering quickly to the left, accelerating and braking, all while twisting and leaning forward and back in reaction to the game. This added excitement, I explained, when combined with the other duties typically performed in the bathroom may lead to quite a mess and how all of that twisting and leaning while nature is calling could result in a decorative overhaul in hues of yellow and brown.

My dad thanked my sister for the gift, but oddly enough, the little game never did make it into the bathroom.


Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Racism and Road Rage

I was driving to lunch with a co-worker the other day when, out of nowhere, she looks at me and says, "you really should slow down because you might hit some black guys."

Not really sure where she was going with this, I asked, "what are you talking about? I think I would see them before I would end up running them over."

"Not necessarily," she said. "They can sneak up on you. You can end up running over them before you even realize that it happened."

"Look," I told her, "they aren't going to suddenly materialize out of nowhere. Since when does that happen? Believe me, if they're in the middle of the street, I'm going to stop before I run them over."

"I'm just saying, you have to be careful. Just last week I ran into some while driving down the road. I didn't even realize it until it was too late. Luckily, I was fine."

"Now wait, you mean to tell me that you ran them over and just kept on going? You didn't stop? Didn't see if they were all right? And how in the world didn't you see them in the first place?"

"They blend right in with the road," she told me. "People hit them all the time, that's why you have to be careful. You act as if you have Superman vision or something, geez!"

"Look, if there are a bunch of black guys standing in the street, I'm going to stop and not run them over. Call it Superman vision if you want, but I'm quite positive that I can distinguish between them and the road. I can't believe that you're actually sitting here telling me that you ran some black guys down in your car!"

"Not black guys, you idiot! I said black ICE!"

"Oh, well never mind then." And, for fear of hitting some black ice while driving to lunch, I slowed down and made a mental note that, perhaps, I should listen more closely when my co-workers talk.

But seriously, if they ever had anything important to say, I would listen more closely...so I really don't think that this misunderstanding is all my fault.


Sunday, December 19, 2004
Readership...Or Lack Thereof

Realistically, when I started writing this blog, I knew that it was not going to really ever get read. I knew that there were millions of people, all with their own blog, many of which are much more interesting and better written than mine. I also knew that, because I wasn't going to advertise the existence of my blog to friends and family, that Aunt Gertie and my old college roommate were not going to be stopping by to catch up, thus increasing the number of 'page views' every day and making it look like people were actually reading it.

This being said, when I first saw that someone had actually linked to my site, I was overjoyed. Thrilled of the faint dead away on the floor, pee my pants variety. Again, not that this really meant that 'people' were reading anything I wrote, but that a 'person' was reading what I wrote...and to me, this was still 'pee in my pants' worthy. Granted, my link was lost amidst a sea of hundreds of other links, but still...this was a link to ME! So you can imagine what heartache it was to see that same person has since deleted me.

This realization was much like finding out that you've been crossed off of someone's Christmas card list. The first year that a card wasn't sent, you thought that perhaps it was an oversight or that the rise in stamp prices caused them to cancel the Christmas card mailings for the year. But by the third year without a card, you had to admit to yourself that you were simply erased from their address book. My feelings toward being link-deleted are much the same.

The first day I realized that I was missing I thought that maybe I was accidentally deleted off of their old blogroll...accidentally, of course...and that, once re-established, I would reappear. Sadly, after checking back the next week, and then the next, I came to realize that I was forever banished. Which then made me start to wonder, what caused this snubbing? Has she since began to realize that my writing is crap? Does she feel that by my not commenting in her little 'comment' boxes that I don't come around and read anymore? Does she feel that my readership (which is usually a whopping one or two people a week) is not enough to warrant a place on her list because the number of people that read her blog make her more important than me? Or does she simply not like me anymore.

But I guess, to be more precise, instead of Christmas card mailings, I think that this banishment more closely resembles those old elementary school days. The ones where your friend 'forgets' to give you an invitation to their birthday party. You think it's a simple mistake until you realize that they meant to snub you. And the automatic response is to begin a yelling match with them. You remember the ones, they went something like this...

Your little grade school friend: "I don't want you at my birthday because you're not my friend anymore."

You: "Well if I'm not YOUR friend, then you're not MY friend anymore, so HA!"

Your little grade school friend: "Well you weren't MY friend first, so HA-HA!"

You: "Well you smell funny and you're a stupid head!"

And, no matter how old you get, it seems that when push comes to shove, you often revert back to the old ways of solving problems, no matter how mature or refined you like to believe that you are. And as for a certain housewife out there in bloggerland that has long since exiled me from her link page, all I have to say is, "Well if I'm not YOUR friend anymore, then you're not MY friend anymore either, so HA!"

So just as I have been erased from her blogroll list, she has been erased from mine! So there. Take that. I'm quite sure that you'll sorely miss the extra traffic that my two readers a week would have provided. And as for maturity? Who really needs it anyway, right?


Wednesday, December 15, 2004
How I Aced My Final Exam

My last economics class of the semester is tomorrow night and, as is the case with many final classes, this is the one where our final exam is due. The final exam for this class was a take-home test, and we've had all week to work on it. Having a week to work on the test means that I waited until the last night to start.

It's only a 40 point, multiple choice test, so it didn't really rank that high on my, 'things to worry about' list, falling somewhere below nuclear holocaust but above losing a quarter in a vending machine. Although, in looking it over, I realized that none of the questions were anywhere to be found in the text book. Now, please don't mistake this as meaning that I actually 'read' the text book, and that this is how I knew the answers weren't somewhere 'in' the textbook, but rather that I searched through the index. And not a single page was revealed as being 'the' page that would contain the answer to the different questions that were posed.

Being a take home test, I decided to search on-line for the answers...which, being that it was done 'at home' meant that it was clearly within my legal rights to do so. I simply typed in a few key words and choice phrases from the first question, scanned down the list of results, and found a website that looked promising.

I clicked on it. And before my eyes I saw the exact same question, with the exact same multiple choice answers as the one that was on my final exam. Oddly enough, all of the questions on the web were exactly the same as the ones on my test. And after scrolling down to the bottom of the web page, I saw a little 'click here to grade your test' button, which I clicked, and was then given all of the correct answers to all the questions that made up my final exam.

So basically, I stumbled across my final exam on the internet, complete with every single answer.

Now, if you've ever attended a college or even a high school class, I'm sure you've heard the 'plagiarism' speech. 'You will fail this class, be expelled from this school, and will be condemned to an eternity of fire and brimstone if you plagiarize!' Well, this college is no different, and I hear the speech at the start of every class. Yet, here was our professor taking her whole final exam, word for word, from a test that she found on-line. And she copied it, straight down to the very last period. Yep, my professor plagiarized her whole final exam.

Which is why I don't feel bad at all about having aced the test


Monday, December 13, 2004
Where Have All the Worthy Causes Gone?

I was out doing some holiday shopping this weekend when I noticed some people protesting in front of a Victoria’s Secret. At first, I thought that perhaps this was some underwear related union that was on-strike for the usual reasons…higher pay, better working conditions, a larger discount on their perfume and body wash needs…but soon realized that the picketers were of the scruffy college kid variety, a scruffiness that is never seen in a Victoria’s Secret employee.

College idealism, being what it is, I figured that their anger with Victoria’s Secret was either to protest the objectification of women or to put an end to product testing on animals.  But as I neared the store, I saw that the picketers were all waving signs exclaiming, ‘Victoria’s Secret is killing our planet!’.

Unsure how a few scantily clad underwear models were ruining the Earth, I was handed a flyer by one of the picketing college kids.  The flyer explained that thousands of trees died every year to produce all the Victoria’s Secret catalogs that faithful shoppers...and millions of teenage boys...eagerly anticipated arriving in the mail.

'Well, they do print quite a few catalogs," I thought to myself.  But I couldn't help feeling that of all the things they could be protesting, the catalog production of one company seemed to be scraping the bottom of the 'what should we protest' barrel.  Surely there must be more worthy causes to get behind...anti-war demonstrations, equal rights, AIDS awareness...and even saving all those poor whales.

If I were still in college, I would surely need more motivation than the removal of Victoria's Secrets catalogs to get me to stand in the freezing cold on a weekend when I could be warm and secure in bed, nursing a hangover.

And  as I wadded up the flyer and tossed it into the nearest waste basket, I couldn’t help but wonder just how many trees died to produce the signs and flyers that the protesters were handing out.  Though I’m guessing that because these trees died for a worthy cause, they really shouldn’t complain.


Tuesday, December 9, 2004
I May Have to Start Learning  

My college professor told us that, at a recent faculty meeting, there have been rumors that the college is at risk of losing its Middle States accreditation. Now, to be honest, I'm not real certain what this 'accreditation' is or why its coming from the 'middle states'.

And I can't help but think, do we really need the approval from all those middle states? Now, if this accreditation was from the east coast, or the west coast...or even all those New England states...well, sure, let's try to keep the accreditation. California, New York, Florida...all good states as far as I'm concerned, and quite frankly, if push came to shove I'd want them to be on my side. Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas? Not so much. In a country wide brawl, my money would be on New Jersey over Oklahoma any day of the week. I would bet that this scrappy little state would kick Oklahoma's ass clear down to Mexico.

This whole pulling of accreditation stems from the fact that, apparently, the college is giving out too many A's. Which means that for the college to keep its accreditation, it'll be a whole lot tougher to get an A. Which means that I might actually have to start working. Which is the real reason I'm against this whole accreditation thing.

Honestly, I have no problem with the college giving out too many A's. I've long ago given up the hope of actually 'learning'. This is nothing more than a business transaction to me. I'll pay, slide by, and you give me that piece of paper which will, hopefully, make me more marketable to businesses willing to shell out big bucks for people with that piece of paper. Hell, I'd even settle for medium to medium-big sized bucks.

But now, all because of these damn middle states, I may actually have to start 'working', which was really not a part of the original deal. All of which means that I may soon have to start looking to buy a degree from the classified ads in the back of Rolling Stone magazine. Which would suit me just fine...middle states accreditation or not.