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Friday, October 29, 2010

Cigarettes and Cell Phones

The other day I was poking around the Internet and came across a blurb claiming cigarette addiction has been replaced by cell phone addiction. It made me stop and think and then my cell phone rang and I leaped across the room, knocking over a lamp, to answer it.

It was a wrong number. Some woman named Ethel was looking for a woman named Lucy. Damn.

Later that night my cell phone battery went dead. I foolishly had forgotten to charge it. Damn me. I quickly plugged it into the charger and watched the battery blink and blink and blink. I stood still watching the blinks until my dear cell phone regained its strength. I was forced to cancel dinner plans. Without a fully charged cell phone I wasn’t about to go anywhere.

With my happily charged cell phone I was finally able to relax. I crawled into bed knowing that anyone anywhere was now able to get a hold of me. That cell phone battery mishap took its toll on me both mentally and physically. I slept like a baby.

The next morning I was clear headed and able to ponder the cigarettes and cell phones comparison as I dunked my chocolate biscotti into my cup of freshly brewed Costa Rican coffee.

Cigarettes cause lung cancer, yet people cannot stop smoking. Cell Phones can cause brain cancer, yet people cannot stop using them.

Cigarette smokers have no concern for others when they’re blowing clouds of cancerous smoke in your air space. Cell phone uses have no concern for others when they’re talking loudly in public places about inane crap no one else wants to hear.
Cigarettes are expensive. Cell phone plans can be quite costly.

Cigarette smoking yellows your teeth. Cell phones held too tightly to your ear cause “flat ear” syndrome and red ear.

Cigarette addicts cannot go a minute without a lit cig hanging from their wrinkled lips. Cell phone addicts cannot go a minute without a cell phone held tightly against their ear drum.

Cigarette smokers are fanatics about their brand. Cell Phone users are fanatics about their brand and ringtone.

Oh damn...

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Painted Ponies

Los Angeles is full of little wonders and today I discovered one within a couple of miles from where I live. In my nineteen years living here I never knew it even existed until today.

Tucked away in Griffith Park is the Griffith Park Merry-Go-Round. It’s not just any merry-go-round. It’s got painted ponies. It’s got organ music. It’s got history.

Oh yes.

The Griffith Park Merry-Go-Round was built in 1926 and brought to Griffith Park in 1937. It’s got 68 horses and everyone of them is a jumper.

For a mere two dollars I was able to travel back in time to my childhood and re-experience the total awe of the painted ponies going up and down and up and down while the merry-go-round music played merrily.

My painted pony was quite gentle. No horse farting. No horse snorting. No throwing me. No horse smell.

Oh the freedom of riding my pony... grasping the reins with one hand and swinging my arm in the air yelling “Yippee kai yay!” I wish someone had taken my picture.

Okay, okay, okay... so it was a ceramic horse bolted to the ground, but for an ex-suburban now city boy like me it was four minutes in the wild, wild, wild west. I felt like a combination of John Wayne, Gene Autry, and the Three Amigos.

Next time I go I’m gonna wear my cowboy hat.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

A Great Passenger

Imagine this: You’re a 57 year old woman who owns a car. You live in the upscale Corona del Mar, CA suburb. You see a homeless person in the nearby park. You befriend the homeless person. You tell the homeless person she could sleep in your car.

How nice. How citizen of the year. How CNN Hero of you to do such a wonderful thing.

Then one night the homeless woman dies in your car. In your passenger seat. Dead. No pulse. No breath. No heartbeat. Dead.

You don’t call 911. You don’t drive into the woods late one night and dump the body. You don’t pull the body from your car and gently place it in a Hefty trash bag and toss it in the nearby dumpster. You leave the body in your passenger seat... for 10 months.

Rigor mortis. Decay. That once happy homeless face sags into a sunken sadness. Skeletal.

And you still don’t remove the body. Instead you pop open a box of Baking Soda and place it strategically in your car to help suck up the odor, and you cover the body with a blanket. Those California nights do get chilly and you don’t want a corpse catching a cold or worse, the flu.

That’s exactly what happened recently. Can you believe it?

The police discovered the dead passenger when they found the car illegally parked. The homeless woman had shriveled to skin and bone weighing barely 30 pounds. The 57 year old owner of the car said she was afraid when she discovered the body so she decided to do what she did. Nothing.

The big question is why...

I think the owner of the car saw a selfish opportunity and took it. She kept the body in her car so she could drive in the carpool lane during rush hour traffic.

Friday, October 22, 2010

I’m Back...

I have been so negligent with writing my precious thoughts in my blog.

I could say it’s because I’ve been wasting time in the hammock of laziness drinking pomegranate martinis and eating raw oysters, but I’d be lying.

I could say it’s because I’ve been on a whirlwind tour of the world dining with kings and queens and the occasional common folk, but that would be a boldface lie.

And I could say it’s because I was kidnapped by tea party terrorists and forced to listen repeatedly to Sarah Palin speeches until my ears bled, but everyone knows I’d kill myself before I’d subject myself to repeat listens of that bitch’s voice.

The truth is I’ve been wrapped up in life. Lots of life. I’ve been working on a film production and I’ve been busy with writing a couple of film projects. The sun would come up and before I knew it it was well past sundown, time to collapse into bed, only to do it all over again.

Because I was so busy I broke a rule I once promised myself I’d never do. While peeing at a urinal I answered my cell phone and conducted a business conversation without losing aim and wetting myself. It was a little tricky holding the cell phone with one hand and my “manhood” in the other, but I did it and I did it well. I don’t think the person I was talking to had a clue.

Of course I felt pangs of guilt. I did. But mixed with the guilt was a little pride that I did it flawlessly.

I promise not to do it again. Mother Nature and business calls shouldn’t mix.

I’m back everybody, I’m back...