Thoughts, peeves, and random events (September '06)

The last few days have contained a wealth of blog fodder, but nothing that substantive enough to merit a blog in and of itself.

By way of compromise, I present this mixed-up and chaotic amalgam of blog fodder. Take it as you will.

Why I need a digital camera:

I have a job that involves driving all over the place just outside of a city that serves as the social hub of the Southeastern states. By virtue of being just outside of the city, I still see vestiges of rural America hanging on for dear life. These vestiges include cars being used as planters, trailers with more square feet of addition and deck than actual original trailer. Signs with hilarious misspellings and backwards ideas, vehicles propped up with construction equipment for routine maintenance, etc.

By virtue of being on the edge of Atlanta, I can see things like I saw today. What did I see, you might ask? I saw teenagers dressed up like comic book characters walking around the mall. I saw twenty-somethings dressed up like fairy-tale characters walking around in the Sports Authority, and I saw thirtysomethings dressed up like cartoon characters walking down Akers Mill road. Most notable was one poor lass who was walking around in an outfit that required that she wear black bikini bottoms--which were all but obscured by her pasty white belly spilling out over the top of them.

I might be evil for saying this, but if I had a digital camera right now we'd all be laughing together.

Now, for all I know, this may be completely normal for frequent shoppers. I don't shop that often, and if I do shop it's almost always through Sierra Trading Post, an online retailer of great convenience.

I was out shopping today for one of two extremely elusive items.

When I was in college, I had a navy blue, XL, 100% cotton Duke sweatshirt that I picked up in a lost and found somewhere. Never before or since have I had a better sweatshirt, and the day it was taken from me will stand as one of the blackest in my personal history. I'm not sure exactly when that day was, but the sweatshirt was broken in, comfortable, and highly coveted by many lasses at my school. To this day I am sure that it was pilfered by some harlot...but back to shopping.

I don't care so much about the logo on the shirt or even the color, but a thick, 100% cotton sweatshirt is my prey, and thus far the prey has remained elusive--pushed out of its natural habitat by the more wily and numerous cotton/poly blend.

The other item I seek has remained even more elusive.

I want a real rugby shirt. When I was a kid, there was a company in Narragansett, RI called Ruggedwear, Ltd. Ruggedwear made real rugby shirts. Rubber buttons, heavy stitching, and 100% cotton fabric so thick and stiff that it was almost akin to unwashed canvas upon initial purchase. The shirts were pricey, and limited to a few styles, but there was no better rugby shirt available anywhere.

One sad day, Ruggedwear closed it's doors, and not since that sad day have I been able to find a real rugby shirt worth getting. My hopes remain high that perhaps in a country that actually plays rugby, the real rugby shirt still roams freely in the stores and pro shops of that land.

I did finally cave and get a rugby shirt that was closer than anything I've found since Ruggedwear. The North Face makes a decent rugby that's 100% cotton and almost--but not quite--thick enough and sturdy enough to pass muster. The shirt stands as a fine shirt with significant merit, so I went ahead and purchased it. Plus, it'll go great with my Carhartts.

On to some pet peeves.

Today as I was making the turn back onto my street, I saw a beautiful young lady of African descent walking down the street towards wherever she was going. As I drew closer, I noticed that someone had painted the poor girl's hair a ridiculous reddish-maroon color. I have seen girls much like this one with hues of blue, green, yellow, and even bright pink atop their noggins. Who told them that his was a good idea? Her hair was fine to begin with, and suited her quite well, I'm sure. So why paint/dye/vandalize it with bizarre colors? It's just silly, is what it is.

As we rounded the corner past her, I saw a young lad walking down the street. My heart almost went out to the lad, as I assumed he was too poor to afford a belt. I made this assumption because he was obviously wearing clothes handed down from a taller and perhaps morbidly obese relative. As we neared him, it became apparent that the clothes were in fact new, and therefore must be his own. The kid couldn't even walk normally in them! in order to facilitate locomotion, he had a big fistful of crotch fabric in his left hand as he walked down the street. I assume it was only fabric, or his tight grip would also imply an unhealthy strain of masochism in the lad. Why would the boy want to wear pants so big that he couldn't walk in them, and a t-shirt so long that it would serve quite well as a semi-formal shift for a plus-sized woman? Furthermore, why would he want to walk down the street in public looking like he's afflicted with an incurable case of the itchy dingus? It just bugs me, I tell you. No wonder kids are getting so fat these days. Dressed like that, there's no way they could run!

My final pet peeve for this section has to do with driving. For the sake of brevity, I'll just say this: If you can't stop behind the big white bar at the intersection, if you can't make a turn without slowing to a crawl half a mile before you actually turn, if you can't figure out how to use the turn signal, if you can't just suck it up and go when it's your turn, if you can't stay off of my ass on the highway, if you pass people on the right, or if you drive at night with your brights on while ANYONE else is on the road, you should not only get your license revoked, you should be sterilized and rendered mute so that you can't pass your incompetence on to future generations.

To close, I'd like to offer up a few real-life conversational gems from the past week (with one or two classics thrown in.)

From my wife:

"Oh honey, I saw your blog about gaining weight and how people have reacted. Don't worry...you look cute as a fat man!" (this was said with a completely straight face in an honest attempt to make me feel okay about weight gain.)

Another gem from today:

Me: "Okay honey, I'm looking for a 100% cotton sweatshirt. I don't care about the color or the logo, just the fabric."

My wife, in response: "Those socks over there are 100% cotton."

From the lady at the redneck gas station/restaurant/baitshop/souvenir store in scary hillbillyville, GA:

"I love that hat, but my sister would like it even more. Ha, ha, I swear, she's just like a n*@@3r. She sees anything bright and shiny, she wants it!"

From my co-worker:

"Wow, it sucks that you had to pay that much to get your truck fixed. It's a good thing you don't have a dog yet."

My buddy Tommy, on his first day at a new massage therapy school:

"Hi, my name is Darrell, and I'm here because when I was in the joint, I gave back and neck rubs for cigarettes and ramen noodles. That went so well I thought I might make a career out if it."

We live in one heck of a world, huh?