A Fashion Statement?

A couple of weeks ago, there was a professional boxing match at Wolff Stadium and I got the chance to work it.  I've watched amateur boxing when I was in the Navy and back when television was

in black and white when Gillette was the sponsor for Friday Night Boxing.  The crowd as a whole was very, very nice and polite, and I certainly enjoyed my 6-hours of being there.

 

I was thoroughly expecting some of my Trailer Trash Thursday fans from baseball season to be there; however, the $25 general admission tickets most likely kept them at home AND the beer did cost more than a $1 for 12 ounce cold one.  These outlandish prices aren't suitable for the Spam Eaters on the west side of town.  Like I said earlier, general admission was $25, but to get a table at ring side was $50 and $60, and all 100 of these seats were filled. There was a total of 700 people at the matches.

 

 

Keep in mind the boxing ring was on the baseball field between home plate and the pitchers mound, and every table and metal chair was on the grass infield....this is certainly good information to have.  Men are men when it comes to what they'll wear to a sporting event and it normally consists of blue jeans, boots or tennis shoes, a shirt without holes and maybe a baseball cap.  

 

The majority of the women, however, were dressed as though they were attending a concert or night club.  I couldn't keep count of the number of women who either wore spiked high heels or those tall club-footed platform heels.  The shoes were obviously coordinated with their "very tight" pants, some being made of leather and others were Spandex, and lllooowww cut blouses to enable the girls to get a view.  And they wore enough bling-bling to raise the Wal-Mart stock 10 points.  As I punched their ticket to go onto the infield toward their tables, I kept saying to myself "Ladies.... ladies.... ladies!  You're at a ballpark for cryin' out loud, not the Hilton.  Where are you're comfortable shoes?"  By the end of the 8th and final boxing match, the total count for shoe related problems were: 3 broken heels, 1 twisted ankle, 4 "oh shit, I just bought these" and 14 spilled beers.  Not bad....it could've been worse.

 

 

Obviously I don't wear high heels nor can I consume enough adult beverages in a year to entice me to do so.  However, common sense should prevail when drinking tubs of beer and/or soda and wearing spiked heels.  Just to reach the women's restroom was a feat in its' self requiring athletic skill and agility.  First, they had to go up 57 concrete steps, a short 25 yard dash to the toilet, and to only be met by a long line of other women waiting their turn to get in.  Oh, those bladders just don't hold as much as they should.

 

Of all the females that were in attendance, there was one that stood out from all the others.  She looked to be in her mid-20's, wore an extremely tight pair of gray Spandex pants, some kind of fringed blouse that would've looked better at a rodeo and a pair of butt ugly spiked heels that looked as though she kicked a zebra in the ass and walked off.  It wasn't what this woman wore that caught everyone's attention (yes, both men and women) it was the size of her butt!  I'll kiss your fanny on main street and give you three days to draw a crowd if I'm lyin', but it looked as though the woman had two basketballs stuffed in the ass of those pants!  And with every step she took, the cheeks of her chubby butt bounced up and down so fast they could've drove a 10-penny nail into a concrete cinder block.  My middle brother has a name for women like that and he says they have "pizza butt", meaning their butt is so big that a 14" pizza could sit on their butt and not slide off. 

 

 

Yes, it's very tacky and not sociably acceptable to talk about a persons short comings, but when Ronald McDonald is envious because you look more like a clown than he does....then it's time to look at yourself in the mirror before leaving the house.  I'm just sayin'......

 

Holiday Madness - It's Every Man For Himself!

The two major holidays of the year are Thanksgiving and Christmas, and more people travel on Thanksgiving than any other holiday of the year.  Both of these two special times of the year have a few things in common to include, but not limited to: lots of food; college bowl games; bombardment with television ads; dysfunctional relatives you've managed to avoid all year; and the hand-to-hand combat that takes place inside stores and parking lots.  As a very wise person once said, "These folks are ridin' the gravy train with biscuit wheels."  And if "incompetence and procrastination could be sold like hamburgers, they would have golden arches over their homes."

So, here we are, less than a week away from the big "turkey day" and like a fool I went to the grocery store this afternoon for only 5 items...just 5!  It was all I could do to keep from getting run over by fat women on their Shamoo electric wheel chairs and grocery carts being pushed by wild eyed, crazed men and women in a desperate search for anything resembling Thanksgiving.  Throughout this entire process of organized mass confusion, I've never been able to get my mind wrapped around this concept of leaving the grocery cart in the middle of the damned isle while looking for whatever.  It's as though the people who pull this act of inconsideration are in a world all by themselves and totally oblivious as to what's going on around them. It's not beyond me during the holiday shopping frenzy, to throw random crap in people's carts when they aren't looking. In my demented mind, this act of juvenile delinquency is totally acceptable and is far less hazardous than navigating down an isle of multiple carts strewn here, there and everywhere, or engaging in verbal combat with someone who is obviously unarmed.

 By now most of us have read the jokes about a retired guy hanging out in Wal-Mart and pulling stunts that eventually got him banned from any of the company's stores, such as going into the nearest dressing room, dropping his pants and yelling "Hey! There ain't no toilet paper in here." Nah, I'm not that creative, although I think it's a pretty cool practical joke, and besides, there are "antics" that I've devised over the past few years that are very effective in a crowed store.  Today just happened to be one of those days in which I was in no mood to waste time dancing around half filled carts and I was smiling like a vulture with the first option on a massacre.

The first item on my grocery list was two bags of coffee -- ah, nectar of the Gods!  The aisle I needed to be on was a tangled mess of abandoned carts and people reading labels.  To show my dislike for such acts of rudeness, I went to the next aisle where the baking goods are located and grabbed a few bags dried fruit, four bags of chocolate chips, some bags of pecans and almonds, a medium sized container of Hawaiian macadamia nuts for good measure and a few boxes of birthday candles.  I pushed my cart of booty into the maze where the coffee is located and began dropping one-by-one all these bags into the carts of people who had left their grocery carts unattended and in the middle of the aisle. Boy, are they gonna be surprised at the check-out counter!!!!

As a kid growing up in the panhandle of Texas, my grandfather would load up all of his grandchildren in the back of his old Model-T pickup and take us all down to this little grocery store to buy some penny candy.  While the owner was keeping his eyes on all of us kids rummaging through the goodies, he should've been watching my grandfather because it was not unusual for him to sample the goods while nobody was looking.  I've seen him open a large jar of sweet pickles, take one or two out. eat it and then put the lid back on the jar and place the jar back on the shelf.  He's also famous for opening a new jar of Miracle Whip, stick his finger as far down inside the jar as possible, pull his finger out with it covered in mayonnaise, put his mayo smothered finger in his mouth and swirl it around, then put the lid back on the jar and place the tainted jar back on the shelf.  Before my loving cousin went to her grave, she told me that after watching granddaddy do that she ALWAYS opened ever jar of Miracle Whip she ever bought first to make sure somebody else had not pulled the same stunt as our loving grandfather.

If I pulled a stunt like those of my grandfather way back when in today's environment with all the security cameras and the like, I would probably be escorted out of the store in handcuff's and charged with God knows what.  However, there is more than one way to skin a cat besides starting at the ass.

Have you ever noticed the number of small children left alone in the shopping cart while Mom or Dad are a few feet away looking at something other than their child?  Did you also know that when a three year old is given a Hersey's Kiss chocolate candy unwrapped while their parents aren't looking, they will not only eat it BUT get the chocolate all over themselves and the cart?  Oh, yeah, Hersey's works much better than Gummy Bears because the child will take the candy out of their mouths multiple times before Mom or Dad realizes what's going on.  How about the number of times you've seen women leave their purses unattended and the purse is left open?  Scary huh?  Not exactly the sharpest cheese on the cracker.  Well, never fear.  If the opportunity presents itself to me, I will do my best to leave this person a surprise they'll never forget.  Depending on the size of the purse, I've discovered that small pet chewy bones and toys are great for surprising the person when they're digging around for their wallet at the check-out counter.  And those cloth shopping bags all the grocery stores have to save the environment are fantastic for stuffing pork chops and loaves of bread in.  The imagination is unlimited if time permits!

You Might Be A Dome Dweller

I've heard Jeff Foxworthy do his skit on You Might Be A Redneck multiple times both on television and in concerts, and it got me to thinking "I know people like that".  So, like Jeff, I got to thinking back on all the people I've known and worked with over these many years and decided to clump some of these folks into the group I call Dome Dwellers.  These individuals have been known by other names besides Rednecks and the ones that come to mind are Hillbillies, In-Bred's, Coastal Clampetts and Mayberry Misfits.  Certainly none of these nicknames are very flattering; however, they do a good job in identifying those individuals who are out of step with the rest of society.  So, here a few examples of how I classify people as Dome Dwellers:

·       If you require a high dosage of anxiety medicine before leaving the city limits or county line…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you still have every car, stove, washing machine, dryer or tractor that you’ve ever owned, and they’ve been sitting in the middle of a field turning into rust…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If a relative in another state invites you to stay at their home for the holidays and you go to the Post Office to apply for a passport and visa……you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If your idea of “lettin’ loose and raising hell” is playing dominoes on the courthouse lawn with the spit and whittle club…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If all your friends and relatives have the same facial features…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you think drinking beer and shooting out electrical transformers with a high powered rifle is “just a little innocent fun”, but having to register any firearm a blatant attack on this country’s 2^nd amendment…you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If your concept of a “night on the town” with your girlfriend is taking her to a 7-11 for a Frito pie, Honey Bun and Dr. Pepper…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you think a person having more than four vehicles at one time in various stages of demolition in their front yard is a person of “financial wealth and importance”…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If your children get more pleasure from shooting “snot rockets” at one another than reading a good book…..they might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you only drink water that’s been through a brewery first…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If your children can recite by name and year every country western singer to have performed in the Grand Ole’ Opera, but have no clue who the current President of the United States is…..they might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If family disputes and arguments are resolved with the intervention of the sheriff’s department and EMS…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If your home is declared a historical significance by the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA)…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If all the clothes in your closet and the furniture in your house have the same matching camouflage color and print…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If the only reading materials in your home are Sportsman’s Guide, Bass Pro and Cabela’s…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you think urinating off the tailgate of a speeding pick-up truck should become an Olympic team sport…you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If watching your 90 year old grandmother stand flat footed and spit tobacco juice into a one pound coffee can over the top of a box car is fun…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you think picking your nose and toe jam on your neighbor’s front porch is not a social disgrace…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If you don’t think “pinching a loaf” in the litter box of your girlfriend’s cat is bad manners…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

·       If going to funerals and weddings are the only places you know where the “hot babes” are…..you might be a Dome Dweller.

Doctor's Office Waiting Rooms - Would Rather Get Snake Bite

Throughout our lives there are going to be multiple times in which we'll have to suffer the boredom and frustration of having to sit in a doctor or dentist waiting room, and it seems like time has virtually stood still.  The best comparison I can come up with is like having your tonsils being removed by a proctologists...you're gonna get in the ass one way or another.

After having worked with my young bride for over 13 years consulting with physicians, it came as no surprise the majority of medical practices don't exert any effort in seeing their patients on time.  And whenever I mention this to the doctor and his staff that a patients time is just as important as theirs, that's when I receive a barrage of excuses as to why it's impossible to get patients in the exam room at their scheduled time.  Some of the reasons I get are valid, such as a patient comes in complaining of a stomach ache and the next thing patient knows they're being taken by ambulance to the hospital for a ruptured appendix.  Oh yeah, this is serious!  Or the patient complains of shortness of breath and unable to keep food down.  After a few tests and an x-ray the physician tells the patient he is scheduling them for a visit with an oncologist, because it looks as though they may have something that requires medical attention NOW.  OK, these are valid reasons for not seeing the patients in the lobby on time, but what if there are no serious emergencies?  It's those normal, routine, day-to-day illnesses and injuries that don't require a visit to the emergency room, and the lobby resembles a California traffic jam during rush hour traffic.  When it comes to the art of conversation and logical thinking, most physicians are defiantly color by numbers people.  Grasping the concept of common sense and logic just escapes them!

As I've grown older, it's not that I don't have more patience on purpose; it's just that I have no desire or time to care about all the pointless drama....get straight to the point and move on.  Here's an example of what I'm talking about.  Whenever I have to see a new doctor for my own health needs, I have a mental check list that I go through when I first enter the lobby:

- Does the place look and smell as though it's been cleaned or does it resembled the Fort Worth
  stockyards?
- What condition are the magazines in...torn to shreds, used as coffee toasters? No reading materials?
- If there's a TV, what kind of programs is on? Color or black and white television?
- How long is it taking for patients to be taken back to the exam room?  Before their old enough for
  Social Security?
- And how many drug rep's have come in the door and sent straight back to see the doctor, because
  they've got lots of food, cookies and drinks for the staff?  This is basically bribing the staff, but it's
  an acceptable business practice in medicine and that's why a lot of the office staff are great candidates for hooking up with the Jenny Craig program and fight diabetes forever.

 Should I not get a warm and fuzzy from my mental check list, I get up and walk over to the counter where I ask to speak with the Office Manager, who at times is also the doctor's wife and/or husband and is watching the store to ensure they're not being cheated.  When this important person arrives, I talk to them in a slow, calm manner and say "Look, I don't want to cause a scene or anything, but I just wanted to give you an opportunity to avoid a potentially ugly situation."  Usually they reply "What type of ugly situation are you referring to?" And that's when I give them my 30-second elevator speech and it goes like this: 


"I promise that if I'm left here in your lobby much longer having nothing to read but these cheesy, outdated magazines on 'how to avoid anal pain during child birth', 'six easy steps in learning how to knit' or 'does your lover really understand you inner most feelings?' I'm going to be a very unhappy camper.  And once I'm in the exam room waiting for God knows how long for his majesty to make a grand appearance, I'm going to dismantle the exam table; go through every drawer and cabinet in the room taking anything that isn't nailed down; pump the blood pressure cup up to its' maximum capability without exploding; and realign your weight scales.  And if that doesn't make your butt want to suck a lemon, I'll take the tunning fork and get  it to humming like a mocking birds butt on a high line wire and hold it up to the window in the exam room.  This is when the real fun starts!!  That copper wire running throughout the window glass is connected to your burglar alarm system and when the tunning fork vibrates next to the wire, we then play my favorite game of How many police, fire and ambulance vehicles can we get to this office in 10- minutes?  Doesn't that sound like fun?"

By now the Office Manager is either (a) picking up the phone to call security, (b) can't believe the sheer gaul I have for making demands on her, (c) thinks I'm crazy as a shit out rat and needs to be medicated, or (d) retorts with her own threats of stating she will "perform a colonoscope on me using an IV pole if I don't take a seat and wait to be called."  Now, here is the question that just begs to be asked, "have I or have I not ever followed through with my threats?" and the answer is a resounding yes!  But with only one exception...I've never able to get the tunning fork to hum at the right frequency to set off the burglar alarm......yet!

I would rather wear pork chop underwear and walk through a den of lions than have to wait in the lobby of a dentist or doctor's office.  I'm impatient and bore very easily, and that's why my young bride normally escorts me to all my appointments and thus, it's less likely in my being placed in handcuffs and taken off to the county slammer and hopefully not becoming Bubba's prom date.  I always behave....just not necessarily well.