Can you cough up a lung?

The cloud of sickness has finally receded from the corners of my head. I spent the majority of last week in a haze created by a cocktail of sinus tablets, cold and flu liquids and any losange that claimed to shorten the life cycle of any known virus. I hate being sick and I’m a terrible patient. I tend to walk around the house moaning, which makes be feel a little better but doesn’t do much for my homes inhabitants.

I had every intention of writing last week, but my view of the events around me must have been distorted by my medication.. Here is what I worked through last week:

Castro has resigned the Cuban Presidency so he can star in Latin version of MTV’s “Run’s House”. As long as I can remember, I’ve seen images of Castro in his Army Green Military suit that he adorns day in and day out. Now there is an announcement that he is retired and ever network carries footage of Fidel lounging in his red Adidas track suit (honestly, with a beard that stlyish, that could be me in 50 years). My mind swirled with the possibilities. Has Castro been rocking a pair of shell toe 3 stripe kicks with his military outfit all these years? When the US ends this silly trade embargo with Cuba, will Steven Tyler break down the symbolic wall with his microphone stand only to find Castro and Rick Rubin kicking back? I’m not sure when this new show will premier, but I look forward to Fidel’s sitting in a bathtub, chomping on a cigar, sending a text message to Elián Gonzalez with the weeks highlights—I love a good reality show.

It’s possible I hooked up with Hilary Clinton. This is a possibility that I can’t defiantly deny with any certainty, but I'm definitely getting the wrath of a scorned woman. For the last week, Hilary has been calling my house every other day and she sounds PISSED OFF. For the most part, I’ve been too weak to rush around the house to answer the phone, so I voicemail do it’s thing. Repeatedly, I would hear the faint screeching of Hilary’s voice coming from the other room, as she left a 3-4 minute message. I’m not sure where this interaction took place, but I know she has been criss-crossing Ohio and NyQuil puts my head in such a fuzz that I can’t account for all my time last week. To put some closure to this matter-- Hilary, whatever happened, whatever I promised, I’m sorry and didn’t mean it (just like your position on Free Trade).

The US Military destroyed a falling satellite with a missile, possibly with Bruce Willis as commander. I was shocked to find out that Bruce Willis was capable of producing a hit, but I’m more concerned with the thousands of pieces of falling debris that are on their way to Earth. The news reports attempted to project a reassuring tone, stating that the shrapnel chunks were less than the size of a football. A softball meets that size criteria and I don’t want a softball hitting anywhere around me at the speed of a gravity. There is no prediction as to the location of these pieces of metal, but the hope is that most will fall into the ocean. As I sucked on a Halls drop I thought, “It would suck if you were going out to sea on a cruise, decided to lay out on the deck for a little winter tan, only to be struck by a sharp piece of metal falling out of the sky”. Hey NASA, can I at least get a date range for falling metal so I’ll know if I should keep the top on my Jeep? It would be nice to plan for the days when these items will be re-entering the atmosphere, so that I can make sure the thin canvas top will be available to provide a little resistance as I’m assaulted from the heavens?

At last, I’m happy to report that I’m feeling much better and my dependency on gel caps is gone. I can once again return to my station in life.

Open Note to Cube Dwellers

I’m disturbed by co-workers that have framed Star Wars & Star Trek posters in their cubes. In my mind, framed posters translate to rooms at home dedicated to action figures, most likely arranged to recreate a scene from the movie, which leads to full size costumes in the closet and role play games with their significant other (assuming they’ve convenience someone else to get naked with them).

I get the appeal. I’ve seen the movies, I enjoyed them……….when I was 12. Princess Leah was hot and who doesn’t want to manipulate others with their mind. But growing up means putting aside childhood delusions: The Force, The Easter Bunny, Social Security.

Attention Cube Dwellers “Keep your freaky fetishes at home. It’s impossible to take anything you are saying seriously when I have to stare at Luke Skywalker talking to a 900 year old green dwarf or read a list of the Top 10 Things You Learned Watching Star Trek”. As a general rule of thumb, if you are in the process of making a living, keep your freak flag at half mast. Attend conventions during your vacations, name your kids Aniken or Kirk, just please, keep this crap out of the office so I can go about my boring ass day without the confirmation that I’m working with adult sized bed-wetters.

4 Things I Don’t Understand

1. Do I have a magic refrigerator? I bought a 12 pack of Miller Lite months ago. By my estimation, I’ve finished this 12 pack at least twice. How can you drink a beer twice you ask? This is tough to do if you don’t posses a magic refrigerator like me. I’ve consumed or given the final Miller Lite away at least 3 times over the last two weeks, but I opened the door this evening to retrieve my trusty tub of humus, and sitting next to grapes was another Miller Lite. This feature wasn’t listed on the manufacture’s specs when we purchased the unit, or I would have been sure to buy the model that made Newcastle.

2. Why were Fergie and Carrie Underwood wearing a ring on the Grammy Awards that looked as if they won the Superbowl? Does Eli have some explaining to do?

3. Are the Grammy’s or Strip Clubs a better representative of popular music? I consider myself in plugged into today’s new music. I know the saga of Amy Whinehouse and all nominees for song and album of the year. This confidence was challenged when I found myself at a clear shoe fashion show a few weeks ago and had no idea what half the songs played during the exhibition. I was there with a youngster who was able to fill in the gaps of our game “Who the hell is this”. (The other indicator that I was the old guy in the club was my degree of fascination with the sound system and light show than the girls on stage). But as I sit and watch the Grammy’s, I know these bands. I know these songs. I would feel better about my pop culture IQ if I didn’t remember that the Grammy’s gave the best hard rock album to Jethro Tull instead of Metallica. Strip Clubs or Grammy’s—what’s the barometer.

4. What is it about John Lennon’s voice that can lower my blood pressure by 50 points?

Quench My Thirst

I was sitting with my son last week, on a hard plastic table inside Sam’s club, awaiting the end of the checkout process. These idle times in life present little life lesson that I should pass along from father to son. His understanding of the world around him is evolving very quickly, so I try not to overload him with everything I want to teach him at the moment it flashes into my head. This form of self restraint causes me to keep a mental list of the things I need to teach him in the future. Addition to the list Item # 2018— When presented the option, the perfect beverage is always a Large Suicide, no Diet.

My head began to spin as I watched two high school kids purchase cups for the fountain drink and then proceed to the drink dispenser and only select Sierra Mist. “Just Sierra Mist”, I thought, “What’s happened to the creativity of today’s youth”? Does this lack of inventiveness stem from their repressive upbringing in a household that imposed a single beverage selection for consumption or is it their elders fault for their ignorance to the wonders of a flavor combination that is created with a Suicide Drink?

As we left the store, I began to crave a sugary drink that is now foreign to my sugar free world. Sugar and hyperactivity is for the young. I no longer have the enough energy to maintain the sugar high for 12 straight hours before the inevitable crash. My mind began to fill with the drinks of my youth and I present to you the definitive list of Soda Beverages:

Top 5 Ranking: Schweeepes Ginger Ale, Orange Crush, Squirt, Cherry 7-Up, & Dr. Pepper.

It’s not only sodas that have consumed my thoughts of late. Six years ago, my addictive personality discovered the wonder that is a Bloody Mary. I was in the ‘Ville for the weekend and felt a degree of shame as I ordered a beer at 11 am. Instead I decided to try an American Tailgate classic as my early morning beverage. My first drink provided a full bodied beverage with the perfect mix of spice, flavor and enough sodium to preserve my intestines for the remainder of the winter.

How can you not love a beverage that is garnished with a small side salad? I’ve had Bloody Mary’s with Celery stalks, olives, lemons, limes and once a dill pickle. At Mike Ditka’s in Chicago, they serve a Bloody “Mike” with a shrimp skewer that should be classified as an appetizer. I use to sample Bloody Mary’s wherever I went, rating each place on a comparable basis to the Eggplant Parmesan Scale. This experimenting stopped when I ventured into foreign lands and tried Toronto’s version—The Bloody Caesar. I was introduced to some repulsive red liquid called Clamato juice, which must be Canadian for “Tomatoes marinated with smelly feet”.

Even though my thoughts are filled with exotic beverages, I return to the reality that is my day to day intake. My consumption of Bloody Marys has subsided and have been replaced with a daily can of V-8 to address my tomato based habit (removing the liters of empty Vodka bottles from my recycling bin). So, I’ll settle for some reduced calorie (read flavor) Cola and save up my sugar credits for shots of Black Haus in the spring on the back porch.