by Richard Timothy | Jul 21, 2010 | Mini-Smirk, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Today I was asked if I play the lottery, which got me thinking about the concept of gambling overall and I came to the realization that sometimes yes I do play it, I just never really realized that I was. My earliest gamble was at the age of 8 months old were I was gambling on whether or not I the wedge of yellow fruit was going to be a pleasant experience if I was able to get it in my mouth. I lost, but I have since then learned to appreciate the taste of lemons. At the time all I could do was spit out the wedge, and yell profanities at my giggling father, which of course sounded like, “Whaah!”
As an early teen I was always motivated to take part in the lottery supported by the postal system. This was thanks to the envelopes mailed to my parents with Ed McMahon on the cover informing them that they had been entered I to win 10 million dollars… that is only if they purchased magazine subscription for a year… which I had them do… at least four different times. You know what I learned? Ed was a liar, well, a half truther anyway. Don’t get me wrong I still opened up those letters every change I got, but that was because they always gave you an entire sheet of stickers. I never really had stickers, so the page of self adhesive magazine covers was usually the closest I ever got to having any.
I also did a little stock trading once, which really just feels like a nicer way to say gambling, and because it officially not called gambling it is legal to gamble this way in every single state, even though in most states gambling is illegal. As for my experience gambling stocks, well, it mostly just felt like watching a very slow paced, black and white, foreign drama where you were always watching the bottom of the screen so you don’t miss and of the subtitles so you know what’s going on, but at the same time you miss all action scenes, which usually encompasses watching someone clean a window, or rearranged match books. What I learned… just because your gambling has subtitles does not enhance the tedium of the experience in any way, actually it only makes it worse.
As for the ‘Lotto’ lotto, I don’t believe I’ve ever actually purchased a ticket or scratch game, although I have thought about it. I have developed a brilliant system for then this feeling comes up though. If I feel the urge to play a game that has balls with numbers on them, I’ll call my friends and we’ll go play some pool. If the feeling maintains I just use the money I would have spent on a ticket and buy a nice bottle of wine instead, which, for the record, always pays out.
What are some of your gambling or lotto moments that, at first glance, don’t really look like lotto or gambling moments?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: keno and reading stock ticker.
by Richard Timothy | Jul 20, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Mini-Smirk, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
In the spirit of yesterday’s Smirk I felt compelled to share this little story about an experience a friend of mine had with his youngest a while back, and by while back I mean anywhere from 6 months ago to 2 years ago. Out of respect for my friend, I will omit the names of him and his family members, unless of course he chooses to out himself in the comments.
It was during the school season and the weather was beginning to turn a bit brisk. His wife had to go to the university early that morning to take a test and it was his responsibility to get the kids ready for school. His oldest, I capable and self sufficient lad, made the process of getting ready for school a rather pleasant one. Then there was the youngest, which I’ll call Ben. Ben is the definition of the Yin and Yang… better make that an adorable sociopath. He is an angelic looking little boy with a fiery personality that is in such opposition to his innocent appearance that world domination will be no problem for this child over the next two to four years.
So as my friend is trying to get Ben ready for school he’s met by a brick wall of assistance, the kid is refusing to help. My friend’s frustration begins to grow as the arrival time of the school bus gets closer and closer. With only minutes to spare Ben is finally ready… until he asks for his coat. As the prospect of taking his kid to school starts to look more and more like a probability, and not being terribly fond of this possible outcome my friend slips out with, “Where the f*** is your coat?”
Ben stops all of his disruptive and unhelpful behavior, and with eyes full of surprise and concern looks up at his father and says, “You can’t use that word. That’s mom’s word. Only she can use it.”
All his frustration towards Ben melted away in that instant. He smiled, doing his best to keep from laughing, and replied, “You’re right. That is mommy’s word. I’m sorry. Now let’s find your coat bud.”
Ben nods in acceptance of the apology and in a sudden surge of teamwork runs to where his coat is hiding, puts in on and heads out the door and off towards the bus stop. Arriving right as the bus pulls up.
I’m not saying swear at your kids, fact is if you swear the kids will pick it up, they’ll just make sure that they, like you, only use it around their friends or when they think you’re not around. “Mom’s word”… ha! What a grand way to keep the little ones from getting expelled for language… at least until get they to high school. Truly one of most brilliant little people stories I’ve had the privilege of hearing and sharing. Thanks Ben for knowing the rules about “Mom’s word” and thanks Ben’s dad for sharing it.
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: surprised kid.
by Richard Timothy | Jul 19, 2010 | I Just Don't Get It, I Think There's a Point, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Parenting is one of those skill sets that you make up as you go, and they seem to evolve and deform from one child to the next. I know this not because I am a parent, but because I have parents. Some things work well enough so they stick around as parental laws. Rules like, you can’t come home until a certain time, or playing in the street unless you are wearing a helmet… or is that riding your… and I think I got that first one backwards. Yeah, actually I think it’s you have to be home by a certain time. Well, I suppose at rule actually depends on the parents and the child involved. Sometimes though, you’ll see, or hear about, parenting decisions that really just make you say, “What the fffffrankly, well, just, you know… WHY?”
This first experience I witnessed a few weeks back at the local Art Fair during a hot afternoon. As the heat began to swelter, Angela and I found ourselves in the food tent sitting at a table eating some fries and enjoying some ice cold water while enjoying the shade. As I chomped on a crunchy wedge of deep fried potatoey goodness I noticed Angela’s eyes suddenly widen. She then whispered, “Look behind you.” As I turned around in my seat I noticed a small and empty stroller. Behind the stroller was a mom, holding a small pile of clothes in one hand and using the other to pour ice cold bottled water on a little child standing next to her wearing nothing but a white diaper.
As ice water flowed off his head and onto his bare torso, he didn’t really cry, but there was a gasp with eyes full of surprise while he clinched onto his moms pants to keep his balance. The lady stopped long enough to take a swallow or two and bent over saying something to the kid. The kid just shook… all of him, he was freezing. I could even see his teeth chattering together.
A friend of the lady then walked up with a little person of her own in a stroller and asked the first lady what she was doing. She replied, “He was hot so I’m helping him cool off.” And that was it, the ladies started talking and the little kid stood shivering in the sun trying to warm up. I turned my back to the scene looked and Angela and simply asked, “Why?” She just shook her head in reply.
As we started talking about the art of poor parental decisions, she told me a little story that a lady she use to work with had shared with her one morning a few years back. Apparently, one evening as this coworker pulled up to her house she saw her husband on the roof doing a little re-shingling work. Then she noticed that about ten feet from where he was working was her four year old boy… on the roof, sitting against swamp cooler, which was attached to the roof. The boy was facing his dad just sitting there looking around. She raced up to the house, jumped out of the car, and yelled at her husband to get the boy off the roof that second.
This took a little longer than expected. The father had taken a few precautions, such as putting the kid in a climbing harness, duct taping the kid to the cooler, and then wrapping a rope around the kid and the cooler three times and then tying a knot to ensure that the kid stayed put. In short, the little one had no chance of moving from that spot until his dad undid all the safety knots and released the kid from his perch.
Once the child was safely back on the ground, she began the husband scolding process. He tried explaining that their son had refused to stay on the ground in the first place. He kept following his dad up the ladder because he was curious to see what his dad was doing. So instead of fighting the kids persistence, he just took the kid up with him and made sure there was no way the kid would be able to move until the dad wanted him to. The boy was happy and content on the roof, sitting there asking questions about what his dad was doing, followed by a barrage of “why” and once satisfied with the answers he had received he just sat there quietly, looking around the neighborhood. The wife then began to explain all the reasons why it was a monumentally bad idea to take a four year old up to the roof of your house and duct tape him to the house’s swamp cooler. As the discussion continued, the husband eventually conceded that it was probably… definitely not the best decision.
I’d have to agree, it’s a bad idea in general to take any little kid and put them on a slanted roof. However, I’ll admit I do find a tiny smile creeping across my face when I envision a little four year old kid wearing round black rim glasses contently sitting on the roof of his house, duck taped to a cooler.
What are your thoughts on this visual? Also, do you have any “Why?” parenting moments that you’ve witnessed?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: bad parents.
by Richard Timothy | Jul 16, 2010 | Mini-Smirk, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I was trying to figure out a good way to start this and I figured why not rely on the always feel good lyrics from the usually feeling good when he was still alive reggae legend Mr. Bob Marley… who was also a ghost in the story Christmas Carol… no relation. I give you the opening lyrics to the song Three Little Birds…
“Don’t worry about a thing,
‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right.“
For the record, it wasn’t my fault. It was either him or me… well, it or me (no idea if it was a he or a she). I was in a sort of hit and run this morning on my way to work. Although to be accurate, it was more of a kamikaze bombardier run into the front of my car followed by a medium sided sounding thump and ball of black feathers ricocheting away from my car and into the turning lane before I could even hit the brakes. I thought about hitting the breaks once I saw the bird bounce off my car, but really didn’t see the point.
My first feeling was one of sadness. Poor little thing didn’t have a chance. It was a little like watching a six ounce bird trying to stop a one ton car using nothing but its wings… oh wait, that’s exactly what it was. Ok well how about, it was a little like watching a strip of gauze tied between two trees as a way of stopping an out of control semi, or using bug repellant to keep from being eaten by a bear, or filling a pint with cranberry juice and becoming sad when you discover you’re not getting intoxicated… ok so maybe I got a little of track.
Still, I was a little sad. My first thought was of a nest full of eggs what would remain unprotected from the elements. Then I figured that the nest was empty by now considering we are well into the season of summer. The bird probably had teenagers by now, which could help explain its motivation to call the whole thing off. I just hope the little thing left a note so that its friends knew not to expect him back at any point in the future. I also hope that the friends feel compelled to hit the local bird bath to have a drink in its memory. I’m sure it would have appreciated that.
As for me, at first I was a little unsettled about my unplanned assistance in this event. I felt as though I had unwittingly become a Kevorkian Doctor Doolittle and was concerned that if word got out I’d have a constant barrage of bipolar or terminal creatures’ swan diving into the front of my car every time I left the house. I mean, I don’t think I have the insurance to cover that kind repetitive onslaught. Not to mention, I’m not good at washing my car on a regular basis and am not terribly excited about the prospect of that little job become an everyday occurrence.
Eventually, I came to terms with the notion that I was helping this summer fowl complete its commitment to life… by dying. And let’s not forget that as a result of it dueling my car and being a topic of unintentional satire, it is will forever be remembered as, “The little bird that couldn…” actually let’s go with, “The little bird that chose not to.” It has a better ring to it.
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: cemetery bird and full bird bath.
by Richard Timothy | Jul 14, 2010 | I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, Lightbulbs and Soapboxes, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
So I went to a free outdoor concert last week, which I high expectations for, but instead it turned out to be mostly obnoxious, with just a hint of tedious, and a splash of hope that all of the rude, inconsiderate, pushy kids would catch a nonfatal, yet very itchy, rash around their neither regions, which would last for a good week and a half. Typically I consider myself of the “kindness towards your fellow man” disposition. In times of arguments and grumbling I’m usually the first to start the, “can’t we all just get along?” chant of togetherness. Unfortunately though, as wave upon wave of rude people invaded my space, i.e. stepping walking through the middle of us all sitting in a blanket on a grass filled area away from the sidewalks, I admit that I did begin to lose that perspective in a hurry. It was the utter lack of mutual respect that emitted off those people like the pungent odor off an overpriced wedge of foul tasting soft French cheese, that I had the biggest problem with.
Yes I am being judgmental, but that’s the point really. Plus, I’m perfectly fine with it. Judging is one of those words that carry with it a lot of negatively charged emotional attachment. I think this is because of its use in religious text. The context is that is usually given is that judging is a bad thing that we should not take part in. I believe there was also a subtle suggestion in the text regarding this action… something about if you judge someone they’ll judge you back. Then a little while later in the book you have all these laws being shared that do, in fact, give you guidelines for judging people, and how they should be dealt with after said judgment takes place. It’s a bit confusing really.
Judge not… rubbish, I say judge, because I really do think it is part of the human condition. I know it sounds odd, but I think judging others shows you’re human. The problem is, is that people think and have been led to believe that judging others suggests negative insinuations, or unpleasantries about their character, which it certainly can, but does it always? Can you judge someone without attaching a negative perspective to it? I think you can, because I do it all the time. I’ve seen people that I thought could benefit from seeing a therapist. From that I could either mean that I think they are a crazy person, or that they could benefit and create a better life for themselves if they were to get some professional help. Both are judgments, one could be classified as a bit negative and the other is concern and not what I consider to me negative at all.
I figure the first thing we need to do when talking about this word is to define it so we know in what context the word is being used. There is the context of making a judgment due to one’s professional possession as in being a judge. Also, you may be required to judge someone’s guilt if you are assigned to a jury at some point in life. Those professional definitions aside, judging someone simply seems to mean forming an opinion about someone’s character based on one’s personal perspective, as in what think about them based on your observations. Yes, first impressions can be wrong, but first impressions are a social system for judging others. Job interviews are another socially acceptable scenario for judging others. As long as it is called something else, people seem to be fine with it.
Can judgments be wrong? Of course, that’s the great thing about the mind, thoughts, beliefs, impressions, etc. we can change them with the more information we get. We’re very clever that way. I’ve met some people that I didn’t much care for at first and whom I’ve grown to love and appreciate. The exact opposite can also be said.
Not too long ago I as this one kid get all huffy and bent out of shape because of a look they got from someone the store. They were so worked up that they confronted this person and the first thing out of their mouth was, “Don’t judge me!” I started laughing… I always start laughing when I hear that phrase. Telling people not to judge automatically gets them judging because of the judgment performed on them by the person who thinks they are judging. Also, by telling someone not to judge means you are, in fact, judging them. It’s a perfect working example of hypocrisy, commonly very loud angst filled hypocrisy, but there’s no telling them that, usually… unless they are family… or a good friend… or that one obnoxious guy that doesn’t drink, but acts drunk all night in a poorly chosen attempt to fit in and needs this explained to them in a very direct way because subtle hints are completely lost on them.
I’d really like to see all the animosity toward the word to go away. There’s really no point. People seem fine and always happy to take part in the action when they call it something else. One of the most common and favored practices of judging others is “people watching”. People love to watch other people, and form opinions about them. The one thing you can count on when you go people watching is that others are watching and judging you as well. It really is quite an even handed practice. Perhaps that’s why people seem to enjoy it so much.
I suppose the point is, it’s what we choose to do with the judgment. Some people choose to throw stones, others let it go. Some judgments make us laugh at others. Some make us laugh at ourselves. My gripe with judging others comes from people who take that judgment and intentionally belittle the person they are judging. Things designed to attack another’s self-worth and self-appreciation. I’m fine if people laugh at someone in shorts wearing black socks pulled up to the knee while wearing white sneakers, I’m fine with them telling others about it. The part I disagree with is when people go out of their way to make a bunch of noise to get the attention of the black sock person so when they look over and see others intentionally pointing and laughing at them for the sole purpose of hurting their feelings.
To sum it up in a sentence, judge all you want, just don’t be a douche bag about it.
What are your thoughts about judging others?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: judging, soap box, don’t judge, and laughing at others.
by Richard Timothy | Jul 12, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, Mini-Smirk, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
This Sunday held a few hours of pick-up, move around, and plug it all back in. During last week we finally got our basement floor repadded and carpet put back into its proper place. It wasn’t until Sunday that we had the time to get everything back to where it belonged. Thus freeing up our front room and giving us access to a television again. It did seem to take a lot less time to put things back than it took to get everything moved out of there in the first place. This surprised me because when we were moving everything out of the room to save it from water damage you would think that we would have moved everything with a bit more in haste.
All speedy setting up aside, we did feel the need to reward ourselves with time… time together to watch a film and relax a bit before bed. It would mostly quite lovely. I mean picture it, there you are sitting next to your significant other, wrapped in a blanket and looking onward towards a rectangular box filled with colorful moving pictures as you sip on some wine and enjoy a little cheese with your crackers, or crackers with your cheese, depending on what part is your favorite. Oh, one last thing, you are sitting in the middle of an empty floor. Yeah, we have away our old couch and have yet to get a new, we do have it picked out, so at least we have that going for us. Still, it will be a little while before we get it.
Angela was very adamant about letting the old couch go the way of charity. It’s not that it was a bad couch, or that the flooded basement was even the couches fault, it’s just that, well, it didn’t tie the room together. I’ll admit that sitting on the floor watching a film was a little remnant of early college days when most of your furniture was a result of cinder blocks and 2x4s that you permanently borrowed from a local building site. Still, after spending two hours watching a movie about South Africa and the 1995 Rugby World Cup, your now square neither region does seem to carry a very noticeable argument as to why sitting on a couch is a much more preferred method for film watching appreciation.
On a plus note though, it is a fabulous space for doing yoga or thinking about doing yoga, which ever school of thought you adhere to on that one.
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: free couch and Invictus (film).