by Richard Timothy | Jul 22, 2011 | I Do Suggest, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
When friends, family, random strangers, or vague acquaintances ask me if I like kids my first impulse is to tell them, “I love kids … especially covered in barbeque sauce.” This usually ends in two ways, either people laugh, or my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wife-pooh hits me and then people laugh. Surprisingly, there is the rare exception where people get all bent out of shape because I make a joke about eating children. In my experience these are also the first people to say, “I just want to eat you up!” then they are squeezing the cheeks of their own kids. Yes, it does seem a little hypocritical. The only thing I can figure is that it’s the joke about cooking them, as opposed to eating one raw that gets then all bent out of shape.
Having spent a bit of time with little people this month, specifically spending the Fourth of July with my almost two year old nephew and with my friend’s over two year old boy (and the rest of the family) I realized something about them … Smirk inspiring in fact. It is the inherent desire to get them to eat something I am 90% sure they will not enjoy, which will be clearly expressed in the face they make after trying the food. I do this for the sake of getting them to make a face that will make me and everyone in the room laugh. The thing is I think all adults have this innate craving to feed kids things (usually sour) that is going to trigger facial distortion from the child all for the purpose of comedic amusement.
There is always the one person that tells the instigator, or sour distributor, not to do it. The thing I’ve noticed is that they never do anything to stop you from getting the little whippersnapper from puckering up, proving that all adults secretly want to give food to kids that are going to make them facially freak out all for the amusement of all the adults in the vicinity. I think the motivation for expressing opposition to the action is in the rare event that the little one freaks out and starts crying, the person who objected can step in to care for the child while proclaiming, “I told you so.” These people love telling this to others and will express their opposition to everything in life just for the opportunity to say this phrase to others.
I am not one of those people. In fact I am the opposite of one of those people and anytime I see a little person in a public where I know the child or the child’s parents I will attempt to get the kid to pucker up as a result of some sour food consumption all for the purpose of laughter. And when I go in for the feeding, all the other adults turn their attention towards me feeding the child the sour food with the expectation that the youth’s innocent response to something completely new is going to make then laugh.
As a veteran in getting kids to consume sour products, there are times when it can backfire, which consists of the kid having the exact opposite response you were expecting them to have. When my baby sister was around a year and a half I managed to get my hands on a lemon wedge and her at the same time (yes, I started this skill very early in life). Everyone was watching in anticipation to her reaction to the lemon. Her first bite resulted in a rather intense squint, which was followed by her little hands grabbing onto the wedge and refusing to let it go while she proceeded to suck the thing dry. Occasionally she would squint intensely when she got an extra dose of sour, but overall she was more smitten with the flavor and not. In the end it was Stephanie: 1, lemons: 0. The thing was her love/hate reaction to sucking on the lemon wedge, along with her refusal to let the sour thwart her desire to eat it into submission, was hilarious to watch for everyone in the room, and therefore a complete and total success … even if it was a backfire.
After years of souring kids, there is never a sure win to getting kids to blindly munch away on whatever you hand them. Around the two year old time frame kids are already developing preferences to what they will and won’t eat. Sometimes kids will refuse the food your give them due to its color or texture when they hold it. This causes them to turn their head from you every time you try to get the food close to their mouth. When this happens there are still ways to get them soured up, it just takes a little preparation … and creative sneakiness.
During the barbeque I attempted to give my friend’s two year old a little taste of lime. I did manage to get the lime wedge in his hand, but upon smelling the lime he quickly dropped it to the ground. Clearly this one needed a different type of motivation to get puckered up for the amusement of everyone else at the barbeque. I noticed that he was a rather big fan of the whipped cream that was on one of the pies that had been set out. So I got a spoon, dipped it in the whipped cream, and then squeezed a lime wedge into the spoon, allowing it to collect behind the whipped cream. Then when I placed the spoon in front of him there was no hesitation in him. He opening up his mouth and taking the whole spoon full of flavors. The buffer of the whipped cream did delay the kid’s puckering up, but only by a second. And when his face contorted into soured bewilderment, ahh, it was laughter filled perfection.
There are times when you can accidentally get comedic facial distorted value from simple food replacements. At the same barbeque, the same two year old was munching away on some blueberries. My nephew (the almost two year old) has a deep affinity for pitted black olives and loves placing them on his index fingers so he can eat them off his fingers, just like you use to do until your fingers got too big to put them on before eating them. Anyway, so one was eating blueberries and loving them and the other was eating olives and loving them, so I figured let’s switch them up. The thing was to the eyes of both kids, the two foods were very comparable, small, dark colored round things that they considered very yummy, but two completely different flavors.
In both cases there was no apprehension to eating the switched food, and the result produced almost the same response from each child. After the first initial chews it was clear that the complete and utter lack of the flavor they were expecting registered in their brain and the food popped out of their mouth and onto the ground, accompanied by a look of utter bewilderment … similar to that of a Firefly fan when they first heard the show was being canceled, only cuter and without all the tears.
So if you happen to be “that person” that is the lead instigator of souring kids in your circle of friends, remember there are times when a simple exchange is not going to cut it and a little improvisation is going to be required. Also, do not forget about the subtle look-alike food exchange. I know it’s a little off the normal play on sour foods, but the comedic facial expression you can get is just as potent as the traditional sour face response. It will almost always get a worthy laugh.
I do need to point to those of you that are just starting to venture out in this role as the instigator of getting the little kid to pucker up; you should only do this once, occasionally twice, to the same kid at a gathering. If you are at a family reunion and have a large family where there are five kids all around the ages of eighteen months to four years old, you are fine getting each one of those kids once, with a total of five different sour face moments. However if you are at an event where there is only one kid, it is completely inappropriate to play the sour face gag on the one kid five different times.
If someone beats you to the souring the kid, the kid is now off limits and you will have to wait until the next party before you are allowed to sour them. It is a “the first person to sour is also the last person to sour” position. If you arrive late, or if someone beats you to the first souring, sorry but you are not allowed to sour anyone. If someone beats you two it, do not start running around to sour any remaining kids at the gathering. You will only look like a lame copycat and not an impromptu creator of comedic joy. You may however round up other kids to take to the one that started the souring process and assist them in the dispersion of sour items to the unsuspecting kids.
Note: It is never EVER acceptable to attempt this on children whose parents you do not know, or who are not in the area when you attempt feeding the child the sour food, unless you are a close friend or relative of the family and have already soured the child at a previous event when the parents were around.
To any of you that are thinking that this is a cruel and wrong, I am going to have to disagree. Little kids love laughter and by eating a fruit of the sour variety practice you are giving the child the opportunity to evoke laughter from an entire room, which they love, and at the same time you are giving them a dose of vitamin C, which is good for them. It’s a win / win.
Oh, one last thing, you must use real fruit for this exchange and not candy. People who are giving fruit to a child are, at heart, good people. If you are doing this via candy, you are secretly considered a jerk for attempting to get the child addicted to processed sugar. Sour candy is acceptable on children that are ages six to twenty-nine. Giving sour candy to a child almost always replaced most, if not all, of the comedic possibilities, to judgments about you as a person along a most of the women at the function secretly hoping you never reproduce. Plus, you risk angering the mother of the child, who (90% of the time) is in the stage where they are refusing to feed their child any sweets.
After committing this party foul you must secretly leave the party early, and skip the next party invite as an unspoken apology for what you did. You will then be promptly invited to the next party where everyone will have forgotten your souring faux pas.
I know there are a lot of rules, but should you learn to correctly execute the souring of children, you will fill your life with a collection of laughter filled moments and coveted respect for being “that person” willing to act out of the social norms and gets kids to make sour faces for the comedic benefit of everyone around you. And I, for one, have no regrets.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: sour face, eating lemons, eating olives, and laughing group.
© Richard Timothy 2011
by Richard Timothy | Jul 13, 2011 | I Think There's a Point, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
I learned something about my brother Mike this past week, something that quite frankly surprised me. I’d even go so far as to say it’s something that escalates my opinion of him from just being my brother, to being a hero … and I think some of you are going to agree. Before jumping into the why, I thought this Smirk could use a little clarifier as to how I am choosing to define the word hero and how that definition pertains to Mike.
For many people, being a hero is a person that shows courage, or is admired for their brave deeds. I know that in the US there is an almost instant juxtaposition to this word and people who serve in a field where they could end up in harm’s way to help others, professions like the police, military, firefighters, etc. In this Smirk I am looking at my brother as a hero for being a person who, in my opinion, has performed a heroic act.
For anyone who has ever found themselves in true relationship there are some conversations that are inevitable. If you have no idea what these conversations are, there are three possible reasons for this, 1) you are not in a true relationship (I’m talking to you high school and middle school kids … and frat boys), 2) you are in a true relationship that has not evolved to the point that you have yet experienced these conversations, or 3) you are no longer in a relationship because you repeatedly failed to have these conversations or they did come up not you rejected them and in the end clearly exposed yourself as someone that others prefer not to be in a relationship with.
The thing is some of these conversations seem immensely pointless, but for some reason they are essential for any relationship. One of these conversations consists of the infamous “decorative/throw pillows” conversation. This is usually instigated when the masculine personality in the relationship asks why their house if filled with pillows they are not allowed to use. The feminine personality takes the opposing view and attempts to explain that they are decorative pillows, as in a decoration. Hence, that is their function and therefore they are needed and useful. I’ve actually dedicated an entire Smirk to this topic.
The point being that these conversations exist and do happen every time two people get together and have a go at that thing called a relationship. There is one conversation that is usually discussed with such fervor and gusto that all men know about it and fear it. Waiting for it to inevitably arise and stick around until they succumb to the demands of their feminine counterpart. The topic is … the great “toilet seat down” rule debate.
The debate traditionally consists of the person in the relationship without the male naughty bits strongly suggesting that the one with the male naughty bits be responsible for all toilet seat interaction, specifically the lifting and lowering of the seat so that is it always ready to support those in need of a sit down. Now since the one without the male naughty bits has spent their entire life not having to deal with the raising and lowing of the toilet seat, due to always sitting to do their business, there is a sense of entitlement. To them it only makes sense that their lack of toilet seat handing not change. To add support to their view on the matter they also claim that since men have spent their life raising and lowering the toilet seat then they should already be conditioned to this practice.
When men are first introduced to this line of discussion, we get confused. The key flaw in this train of thought is men are not trained to not raise and lower the toilet seat. I mean we do when the need arises, but when we lift it, it stays up until our need requires it to be put down, to which it stays down. Since men usually require the seat to be up when we go to the restroom that means it spends a lot more time in the up position than the down position.
In my experience, the first time I had this conversation was a little different than the traditional method of a being in a romantic relationship. I had moved into a place with five female roommates and I believe the very first time I left the toilet seat up after moving in I was confronted by all five roommates and kindly threatened that if I failed again to leave the toilet seat down after I had finished my business then I would be tarred and feathered in my sleep … with graham crackers and chocolate syrup. I didn’t leave that seat up again the entire time I lived in that house. Also, by the time I got into a real relationship I was already in the practice so it wasn’t a big debate filled compromise. So, I guess, thank you to those five roommates? (Still not sure I’m ready to move that from a question to a statement just yet.)
I do need to point out that in the event your male counterpart forgets to put the seat down after they finish their business please don’t start in on them about it. It happens, we do forget sometimes. We never get thanked for all the times we leave it down, but the second it slips our mind and we accidentally leave it up once out of a thousand times, we get instantly reminded and/or lectured about it. We don’t appreciate getting in trouble for this especially when it rarely happens. By letting this slide and simply putting the seat down on the random occasion when it happens, it will strengthen your relationship.
Also, from a feminist perspective I would like to point out that the “toilet seat down” rule is completely anti-feminist. Feminism is about equality, and then you require that the male counterpart in the relationship always put the toilet seat down, this is a request for special treatment and removes the fundamental belief in being treated equal … I’m just saying.
Still, the “toilet seat down” rule is something that all men have experienced and agreed to follow … that is until my brother Mike mentioned in passing conversation that he doesn’t have that rule. I just started at him in disbelief. The other guys around him were equally flabbergasted. The first one to reply to his comment struggled a bit trying to get clarity about what Mike had said, “Wha … you … you don’t have … how is that even possible?”
Mike just smiled as we looked at him with the same awe and admiration as when we watched Indiana Jones for the first time on the big screen discover the lost ark. I had a few questions of my own for Mike. Things like, “Who are you?”, “What have you done with my brother?”, “Why haven’t you gotten any endorsement for this?”, and “What is your secret oh great and powerful Oz?”
“I just said we should both be responsible for looking to make sure it’s down before we sit, making it an equal thing for both of us. She tried to say that if the seat gets left up and in the middle of the night she gets up to use the restroom and falls in because the seat is down then it is my fault. I told her it is her fault for not looking, just as it would be my fault for not looking if I fall in in the middle of the night. I only seemed right that we are accountable for ourselves.”
We all had the same response, saying it in unison, “And that worked?”
For him it did. He make the “toilet seat down” rule about personal accountability, and that is why I have escalated Mike from the status of brother to the shared status of “my brother, the hero.” I think any guy that learns about his Yoda-like handling of the “toilet seat down” rule debate would agree.
Before ending this Smirk I do feel it’s important to point out that I am not recommending that all men currently following this rule go and revisit the debate. No good will come of this. If the action is second nature now and something you do automatically, do not, I repeat do not mess with the rule. However, if you have not yet found yourself in this discussion, you are now a little more prepared for when it does finally come up. And remember, don’t thank me, thank Mike.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: hero, toilet seat, I forgot, and Indiana Jones.
© Richard Timothy 2011
by Richard Timothy | Jul 1, 2011 | Cause to Pause, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Have you ever been going through your daily cycle, minding your own business, keeping to yourself and all of the sudden you find yourself either in a situation or watching a situation that compels you to stop dead in your tracks and pause so that you can fully take in that moment and experience. Then walk away from that moment in either a fit of giggles or a retrospect of bewilderment. I think everyone has these moments. In fact, I think simply by leaving the house you can’t help but have them.
The moment that caused me to pause this past week, begging me to highlight it in this week’s Smirk has to do with department store cameras. The cameras I am referring to are the ones that are positioned just inside the door of the store you are walking into, recording every entrance and exit. In this particular case the store involved has chosen direct the camera feed to a television which is bolted to the ceiling right inside the store. The television is positioned toward the doors, allowing everyone who enters the store to watch themselves walk into the building.
I’m not sure of the motivation for this practice. Is it a type of subtle mind game for would-be shoplifters? Does watching yourself walk into a store imprint on you that if you can see you then obviously while you are in the store it is watching your every move? It’s a little Orwellian and paranoia inducing if you think about it. Actually you better not. I imagine if you think about it too much, it will only add to the paranoia.
Then again it could be a device used to invoke a desire to purchase items you had no intention on purchasing in the first place, specifically clothing related. While watching yourself walk into the store do some people look up and think, “Wow, these jeans really do make my butt look big,” or “This top and this bottom just do not go well together, I better get something that matches.” Perhaps in a man’s case it could be a reminder such as, “Damn, I’ve worn this same shirt for a week now, I should probably get a second shirt,” or it could simply serve as a reminder to buy some laundry detergent.
Usually when I walk into this store and see myself my first impulse is to wave, because “Hey, I know that guy!” Growing up in a small town, it was engrained in me to offer a friendly wave to people I know, which at the time was everyone I saw. Once I moved to the city, there are just so many people that I don’t know that it has become common practice to keep to myself when wandering around in public. However, this also means that when I see someone I know in public I wave vigorously until I’m noticed. The down to this is that if the person I am waving to has kids, they instantly think I’m a freak and an embarrassment to the human race. To help repair this unfair youthful judgment, I usually make it up to them by buying a bag of ring pops and walking around the store with the kids while we suck on the giant ring suckers wrapped around our fingers and sticking out our tongues at each other to see if they have changed color yet.
On this particular day (the one the held my latest cause to pause moment) I had just walked in front of the sensor that instructs the electric doors to “get out of the way,” but before I stepping into camera range and onto the television screen I saw standing about twenty feet in front of me a young kid, maybe seven or eight standing all alone staring up at the television screen. He was intently watching his every move. He slowly lifted and lowered his left arm. Then he lifted up both arms and mimicked in the movements of a bird flapping its wings, while lifting one foot off the ground, the entire time his eyes refused to leave the same time footage of him flapping away on the television screen.
He calmly placed his foot back on the group and dropped both flapping arms to his side and then is a sudden surprise movement he jumped into the air and spun around so that his back was now facing the camera, still keeping his gaze fixed to the television screen the whole time. Then, with his head still twisted around and looking up toward the screen he slow leaned forward, raised one hand into the air and started to repeatedly slap himself on the ass. Then, in an instant almost as randomly as it had begun the boy stopped. This whole scene had lasted maybe ten seconds.
After stopping, but still in his slightly leaning over pose, the kid started to look around to see if anyone had noticed what had just transpired. When he spotted me standing in the store’s doorway looking at him with my head half tilted and a confused “What the hell?” look on my face, he stood up straight, spun around and sprinted off towards a grocery cart a few yards away with what was surrounded by what I can only assume were his family.
It was as I took that first step into the store and onto the screen that had just witnessed a boy spanking himself for failing to fly that I started to laugh. It took me ten minutes to remember what I had walked in there to buy in the first place. It was definitely a worthwhile cause to pause.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: confused kid, waving at friends, and confused look.
© Richard Timothy 2010
by Richard Timothy | Jun 24, 2011 | Any Suggestions, I Think There's a Point, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
So last Saturday, as I was doing some last minute shopping for the impromptu holiday for fathers I found myself walking into a department store with the purpose of getting my old man the crown jewel of gifts for fathers … toys for his grill. No it wasn’t original, and it wasn’t something he really needed, but it was a gift that I knew he would love. Why? Because he’s a dad, and even if he didn’t have a grill, he would have still loved the gift.
When it comes to giving gifts to fathers I have found two fail-safe gifts that when you come to an impasse at what to get them, or they have simply failed to give you any suggestions for something they would really like, want, need. The first of these two gifts are “toys for the grill.” These toys include (but are not limited to) tongs, spatulas, reusable kabobs, those little holdy things that you stick into the ends of corn on the cob to keep you from getting your fingers swimming in melted butter, an electric meat temperature gauge, seasonings, etc. The second gift … power tools.
The most amazing thing about these gifts is that they instill and very natural and effortless hording behavior in men. For some reason these two types of gifts never ever get old or redundant. I could get my dad a power drill for his birthday, Christmas, and Father’s Day and he would absolutely love it and make sure he used it at least once before making room for it in the “tools” section of the garage. The thing about giving grilling toys is that I know I’m going to be invited over again for a grilled dinner sometime soon, which for me is always nice for two key reasons. I love getting together with my family, we all get along really well. Also, my father is an amazing, and I mean amazing, cook. He has close to 50 years of experience and it shows every time I eat something he’s cooked.
Now if you are one of those people that don’t necessarily get along with their family, power tools are definitely the way to go. There is no suggestion or encouragement of getting together before some required occasion, like family gathering holiday, a family reunion, a wedding, or a funeral. Also, with power tools there is always the opportunity for them to build a fence or some other structure that may assist in keeping you away from each other. Again, that is only if you don’t get along.
If you do get along, power tools can always be used as devices to encourage activities that can bring you together, such as building a new deck for that grill and all those gifted implements to aid in the art of grilling.
Now if you are wondering why these gifts are the “ol’ reliable” of all possible gifts for men, all I can say is that it’s a guy thing. It’s kind of like me asking why a candle is the always reliable gift to give a woman if you are stumped on what to get them. I don’t know why, but I do know that if it smells nice then I get extra points for that. I don’t know what those points are for or how I can check to see how many I have, I just know they exist and that they are important.
Yes I am generalizing, and to be perfectly fair my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wifey-pooh is much more guy-like in her appreciation from tools than I am, but for the purpose of this overly stereotyped Smirk, grilling toys and power tools are the “go-to” always perfect gift for an guy on any occasion. Yes, most of the time we are that simple.
Now I concede that this may be just a centralized phenomenon for the area in which I grew up and the family I have. So I’d love to hear any feedback on additional “always reliable” gifts that you have given or received for Father’s Day over the years.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: present for dad, power tools, and giving candles.
© Richard Timothy 2011
by Richard Timothy | Jun 17, 2011 | My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
… that makes it all worthwhile. See that, I finished off the thought of the title without repeating it in the opening of this paragraph … clever, I know. Although this is a very subjective topic because you have to figure out what “it” is, and there are definitely times where this idea about “it” can be rather erroneous, say when it comes to pots of gold. One giant pile of gold is going to be better that one tiny pile of gold… unless the giant pot of gold is guarded by a giant dragon and the tiny pot of gold is guarded by a tiny gecko. Then again a giant pot of gold might not be as good when compared to a thousand tiny pots of gold, although that might depend on whether you want to deal with one thousand tiny leprechauns’ or one giant leprechaun. I suppose the same could be said for cheesecake … although I’ve never heard of cheese cake leprechauns before. (I think I’ve gotten off topic and I haven’t even started … meh.)
For today’s Smirk however, my “little things” topic deals with everyday observations, ones that move me to a burst laughter filling me and my day with the appreciation of humor, thus making my day that much better. There are two such things that filled me with that full fit of laughter when I observed them and again each time I think of them.
The first giggle fit has to do asking for directions … from Google maps. A friend at work showed me this just the other day and it made me so happy that I can’t help but share it with all of you. All you have to do is go to Google maps and select the Get Directions option. In point A type Japan. In point B type China. After a few moments a little map will appear with a little blue line showing you the documented route of travel.
It might not seem like much until you begin reading the Driving directions to China. Actually, truth is reading the driving directions really aren’t all the worth of a read until you get to step 42 (Douglas would be so proud), which clearly states:
42. Jet ski across the Pacific Ocean 782km
Even now that gets me chuckling to myself. Thank you Google maps for teaching us that there are times when it is definitely worth reading the directions.
The second has to do with my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wifey-pooh and her latest attempt to get the mail. The mail where we live is delivered to our mail box, which is a collection of boxes for the surrounding neighborhood. This way the postal worker unloads the mail for the area into these boxes instead of delivering them door to door. Each house has a key to their mail box and when the mail is delivered people have to leave their house, walk down the street or, in my case, across the street, to open and empty their mail box so it is ready for the next day’s drop off.
Angela has as of late, which is typical for her, been working long hours and has had her share of feeling a bit exhausted when she gets home. The other day, upon getting home she asked if I had gotten picked up the mail. I admitted I had not, so together we ventured out together to pick it up, figuring the walk across the street and back would count as our talk for the day. As we approached the mail box, Angela reached into her pocket and pulled out her keys, holding onto the electronic car door opener remote thingy. Then without even a pause she pointed the remote at our mailbox and pressed the “open” button. Then she pressed it again … I stated to giggle.
She looked down at her hand, finally realizing what she was doing and sighed, “Not again,” to which I started to laugh … loudly. She just smiled, reexamined her keys and was soon opening the door to our mail. “Again huh?” I asked. “It would have been cool if it worked,” she said smiling even more, admitting to trying to open the mail box on more than one occasion using her car remote, but only on the days that she was extremely exhausted. We both laughed all the way back to the house. I love that she can always make me laugh, and some of my favorite laughs with her are times like that where she had no intention of doing so. Thanks honey, you’re the best.
Image Sources: Google maps and …
Google Images, keywords: pointing laughing, group of mail boxes, woman pushing unlock button, and couple laughing.
© Richard Timothy 2011
by Richard Timothy | Jun 10, 2011 | Nearly News, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
One of the things about news stations in the US is that 99% of the time (or more) news about what is going on around the world doesn’t get reported to us. This has caused me to occasionally peruse headlines from around the world to see if the reporting in other parts of the world is a pointless as it is here in the states. Over the past week I’ve found a few stories from the other side of the world from a culture of people who, according to Douglas Adams (in his Last Change to See book), are very keen in assuring you that no matter what is going on in any given situation that there is nothing to worry about. This is commonly expressed in the form of the continent’s catch phrase, “No worries.”
Yes this week’s Smirk comes to you with much gratitude from the wonderful land called Australia. As it turns out, I have a few friends in Australia, friends I have not yet met, but someday hope to. And from the little correspondence I have had with them, I must admit that my overall opinion is that Australia is filled with nothing but kind, friendly people who enjoy a drink every now and again. I am sure there are some people that do a very good job thwarting this perspective about Australians, but I have yet to meet any of them. One thing I know about the country with much tested certainty is… they make a damn tasty Shiraz.
And it is that damn that brings me to my first amusing headline about the goings on in Australia:
Damn! Aussies to be fined for swearing
In the state of Victoria, the country’s second most populated state legislation is expected to pass that will allow the police issue on-the-spot fines for obnoxious swearing, fines that can reach up to $240AUS ($257US). To me the key identifier in this law is the word obnoxious, which does bring up a number of questions for me. My first concern is that this law is open to a huge range of personal interpretation on what is considered obnoxious. If you have one officer that was raised in a very strict home where profanity was strictly prohibited their view on what is considered obnoxious swearing is going to be very different from someone who comes from a family of sailors. (Yes it is my universal belief that all sailors no matter where they come from are masters in the art of profanity.)
The law is intended to be targeted towards obnoxious, offensive behavior in public, but personally I find it much more offensive and obnoxious when I’m in a restaurant and a couple comes in with a set of ill-behaved children and are seated at the table right next to me. Then for the remainder of my meal, me and every other table around me has to deal with a baby crying or a four year whining about not wanting to eat its food. I find this a hell of a lot more obnoxious than a drunken person cursing at the “Don’t Walk” light because no light is going to tell them what the hell they can or can’t do. Honestly, which is the more obnoxious, offensive behavior in public?
Some of the most obnoxious language I’ve ever heard comes from people that don’t utter a single curse word. Seriously, all you have to do is start talking politics with someone that doesn’t share your political views and you will soon be engaged in one of the most obnoxious conversations of the year. Granted, at some point I’m sure profanity will ensue, but there are a few rare exceptions where the lack or profanity remains, which creates a more obnoxious encounter because let’s face it profanity offers certain emotional venting avoiding to swear only increases the tension.
Another question, is this only spoken profanity? If you are wearing a tee shirt that has profanity written on it… can you get a fine? What about people with Tourette’s syndrome? Are they excluded from this law? If not, why not? If so, could you get a Tourette’s card that allows you to swear obnoxiously in public without fear of breaking the law? (That’s right here at Smirk I’m willing to ask the tough questions that seem random as hell, but now that I mention it you know there are others out there who are going to be wondering the same thing… and now, thanks to me, you’re one of them.)
I can tell you this; I personally think that passing this law would automatically remove any and all chances of the state of Victoria ever hosting a World Cup. I don’t think there is a police force large enough to attempt to issue British football (soccer) fans during a World Cup a ticket for obnoxious profanity. Obnoxious profanity and sports go together like vegans and tofu, trees and forests, fish and the ocean or cat juggling and clawed arms. They belong together and I think trying to take that away would risk damning the sports world forever, at least in the state of Victoria.
My next Australian story held the following headline:
Aussie woman, 89, beats off bandit with handbag
In short, three women, ages 71, 82 and 89, were chatting away in an underground car park in Melbourne on May 26. They were approached by a man who pulled out a knife and held it to the throat of the 82 year old. What happened next? Well, the 89 year old, without even giving it a thought, swung her handbag smacking the assailant in the face. The 82 year admitted, “I tried to kick him in the groin, but I could not move my leg far enough or high enough.” The man kept yelling at the old ladies to give him their bags, but the ladies refused, continuing their defensive assault toward the man.
The mugger finally fled after a man passing by ran to the defense of ladies. However the 71 year old friend kept an eye on the fleeing man and memorized his plate number as he drove away. Unfortunately, the car turned out to be stolen so the attempted robber was not caught. The police were rather impressed by the women and deservedly so. The 82 year old did receive a small cut on her hand, but fortunately it did not require any medical treatment.
I’ll admit that the visual I get of these three ladies attacking this unsuspecting mugger with their handbags and failed groin kicks, and walking away from it not just unscathed (minus a small battle cut) is not only poetic, genius, and smile inducing, but it fills me with the satisfying reassurance that one is never too old to be a bad-ass. I tip my hats to you ladies. You are an inspiration. And thank you Australia, for creating some news that has kept me smirking all week. Cheers.
Image Sources:
Google Images, keywords: reporter, officer writing ticket, arguing politics, old lady with handbag, and Australia.
© Richard Timothy 2011
When friends, family, random strangers, or vague acquaintances ask me if I like kids my first impulse is to tell them, “I love kids … especially covered in barbeque sauce.” This usually ends in two ways, either people laugh, or my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wife-pooh hits me and then people laugh. Surprisingly, there is the rare exception where people get all bent out of shape because I make a joke about eating children. In my experience these are also the first people to say, “I just want to eat you up!” then they are squeezing the cheeks of their own kids. Yes, it does seem a little hypocritical. The only thing I can figure is that it’s the joke about cooking them, as opposed to eating one raw that gets then all bent out of shape. 
As a veteran in getting kids to consume sour products, there are times when it can backfire, which consists of the kid having the exact opposite response you were expecting them to have. When my baby sister was around a year and a half I managed to get my hands on a lemon wedge and her at the same time (yes, I started this skill very early in life). Everyone was watching in anticipation to her reaction to the lemon. Her first bite resulted in a rather intense squint, which was followed by her little hands grabbing onto the wedge and refusing to let it go while she proceeded to suck the thing dry. Occasionally she would squint intensely when she got an extra dose of sour, but overall she was more smitten with the flavor and not. In the end it was Stephanie: 1, lemons: 0. The thing was her love/hate reaction to sucking on the lemon wedge, along with her refusal to let the sour thwart her desire to eat it into submission, was hilarious to watch for everyone in the room, and therefore a complete and total success … even if it was a backfire. 
There are times when you can accidentally get comedic facial distorted value from simple food replacements. At the same barbeque, the same two year old was munching away on some blueberries. My nephew (the almost two year old) has a deep affinity for pitted black olives and loves placing them on his index fingers so he can eat them off his fingers, just like you use to do until your fingers got too big to put them on before eating them. Anyway, so one was eating blueberries and loving them and the other was eating olives and loving them, so I figured let’s switch them up. The thing was to the eyes of both kids, the two foods were very comparable, small, dark colored round things that they considered very yummy, but two completely different flavors. 
