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JWR 2.1 - You Go, Girlfriend!
...So I says to Mabel, I says--Excuse me a minute.
Oh, hello again. What can I do for you?...Oh, you want a Rambling?...What if I’m not up to starting another whole new year of Ramblings? Did you ever think of that?...I thought not. You’re kind of upsetting and aggravating me...No, YOUR mama...Fine:
So...this past weekend I had an experience that kinda pissed me off. I don’t know. It probably shouldn’t, but it does. Allow me to share it with you, if you will. You know that Chucky Cheese game where you have a little padded mallet and you hit these plastic moles that pop up from holes--Whack-a-mole? You know the game? (It’s all about the game and how you play it.) Well, I realized that guacamole and whack-a-mole are essentially the same thing. You pronounce guacamole wah-ka-mo-lee and whack-a-mole could so easily be guacamole, just add and “e” sound at the end and change the front slightly. Kinda like that Tyme and time machine thing. I should have gotten that much sooner, but you know men.
A couple other things that make me a little perturbed:
Minnesota. Minne-soda. Soda. But they call it “pop” not soda. This has been on my mind for well over a year. Soda. Pop. Soda-pop. Coke. Cola. Coca-Cola. They dropped the Cola from the name, now it’s just Coke. (They should’ve dropped the coca after they removed the cocaine.) They dropped the pop from the name, now it should just be Soda. Soda. Soda. I have a delicious soda. You have a cheese sandwich. I have a soda. A soda. Soda. Soda. You have a sandwich; I have a soda. Soda. I think soda is right and pop is wronG. With a capital “G”. Pop is a retro fifties drive-in chicks on roller skates Fonzie grease slicked hair and muscle cars word, whereas soda is the default. Soft drink. Now you’re getting all euphemistic. But that’s about the extent of complaining I can do about Minnesota, except for the bitter cold and me without a jacket walking to a Chinese restaurant to be waited on by a European girl with blue hair--but I digress.
The St. Paul skyline at night is really beautiful. I thought it looked like Legos. It seemed kind of perfect, you know? The colors deep like the artificial plastic and the lines so straight and the corners so sharp.
On the drive back to the little corner of SE Wisconsin I live in, I was wondering about daylight savings. I asked my traveling companion, SP, if the whole world sprang forward and fell back. And he told me, “Yeah, pretty much.” I think he was just talking out of his bum, but like I know. I find it difficult to believe that Russians spring forward along with the Koreans. Or the Israelis and the Burkina Fasoians. It seems like such an American thing to do--skip an hour every other six months and then repeat an hour six months later. We need to control things. How better to exert our seemingly iron-clad grasp over tyme than by manipulating it for our farmers who don’t really need the extra daylight after all due to the lights on Case-New Holland formerly Case Corp. and John Deere tractors, thank you very much Wind Point Elementary School Career Day.
Then SP tells me that Arizona doesn’t spring forward or fall back and I hit the roof. Arizona doesn’t change time with the rest of us? Who the hell are they? Those miserable--I didn’t watch my buddies die face down in the muck so those sunny bastards can have years on end of uninterrupted day/night synchronicity. Arizona doesn’t fall back. Arizona doesn’t spring forward. Well excuse me. I didn’t know that Arizona was so special that they didn’t have to live by the arbitrary rules that the rest of us do.
You know what I think? I think Arizona is the least outstanding state of them all so they’re trying to make a name or themselves as the bad ass go your own way but not in the good Fleetwood Mac kind of way. Just imagine that if you were even more boring than Rhode Island. New York has New York City. Texas has cowboys and big onions dipped in beer batter and deep fried. Michigan has Detroit Rock City. California has everything. Colorado has mountains. Alaska (freak state #1) is huge and wondrous. Hawaii (freak state #2) is a group of islands inhabited by people not quite like us. Illinois has Chicago. Wisconsin has cheese and me--some say we are simpatico. Virginia has the FBI and D.C. in it’s arm pit. Maryland has the distinction of being home to some people’s favorite city. Florida has O.J. and interstate snipers. Washington state has rain and Frasier. Oregon is the goal in the ever popular cheap computer game “Oregon Trail.” Rhode Island is tiny. Louisiana will be under water soon and has Mardi Gras. Arkansas has apple sauce. Nebraska has white gangstas (true, they use Uzis). Minnesota has a funky governor and twin cities and Lego looking buildings and an intricate interstate system in Minneapolis and Prince and a bunch of lakes and cold and is home to a very intriguing person and is right next door and keeps the Canadians away. Nevada has gambling and legalized prostitution in parts. Jersey has gambling. Arizona...has hot. There are no monuments of importance because nothing monumentous has ever happened there and will never because it’s a vast desert of nothing with a couple cities. The only things there are Nate and Heidi Klinkenhammbergensteingoldfish.
Can you tell I’m upset about the no daylight savings time thing. And then SP informed me that there is a small part in Indiana that does not change daylight with us as well. California, I’d accept. New York, sure. Texas, sure. Alaska, I’d expect from a place so far north that it can be perpetual day or night. But Indiana? And a small part? That would be the work of a very bored city council. “What’s on the referendum today?” “Nothing.” “Yeah, just give me a run down, please.” “No, not a thing.” “Oh... well, any suggestions. Think outside the box, people.” “Ooh, let’s get rid of daylight savings time.” “Yeah, yeah! Let’s show those f%#@*&! farmers that we’re not going to take anymore of their S*@#.” “All in favor.” “Aye.” “All opposed.” [Crickets chirping.] “The ‘ayes’ have it, daylight savings time is now abolished in the suburb of North Trapesius.” I'm watching you Indiana. You've been warned. You mess with the bull, you get the horns. Can you smell it?
You know, if I ran a city or a town or an island or anything bigger than a single room, I’d do things differently.
...Yeah, I’d shake it up.
Moving on, the following people are gay:
Evil Inspector Gadget
his niece Penny
the new golden dollar
Canada as a whole
monsters named Rader
Radar from M*A*S*H*
Steven stinkin’ Foster
Dick Chaney (make the connection)
people without their uvula
In conclusion, televisionisdesensitizingtheworldgoodnight.
...Sorry about that. So I says to Mable, I says...
Copyright © 2001 John Lemut