Family: They Don’t Build ‘Em Like They Used To

Get this.  Last night we were eating at the Cracker Barrel because that’s where the kid wanted to go for Valentine’s Day.  So we’re sitting there, cramming pot-roast, meatloaf and pancakes down our gullet and commenting on the lack of diners.  Across the way, I spied a family of five.  On one side of the table sat the parents.   On the other sat three teenage girls.  Every slap-dab one of them had their heads down…intent upon texting, playing ‘Word Mole’, watching YouTube videos, updating their Facebook status.

I sat and watched them for a good 10 minutes.  Not one single word was said amongst them.   I told my husband to discreetly turn around and check them out.  Of course, he whipped around like his chair was on fire to gawk at them.  They didn’t even notice.  Nor did they notice when Husband nearly set himself on fire with a lit kerosene lamp.  Everyone else did though.  I don’t doubt that a few people soiled themselves whilst laughing.

We “tsk-d, tsk-d” like a couple of senior citizens and shook our heads.  Meanwhile, our kid is hunkered over in the corner pretending to play a video game on a Valentine card she got from school.  Five minutes later, she shoved an entire cathead biscuit in her mouth and periodically swallowed.  It was like watching a snake eat a gopher. Disgusting yet fascinating.

But at least we were interacting!  Although, who am I to judge?  That family could’ve been talking to each other with their mechanical devices.  I’ve been known to pick up the cell phone and call Husband at the other end of the house to ask for bacon and cough drops.  So maybe my perception of family communication is a bit antiquated.

Maybe all this high-falootin’ technology has actually brought some families together.  But I’ll tell you this right now here today.  I don’t care how far our technology advances….I’m still gonna force my kid to look me in the eyeball and talk to me with her mouth.  She may hate me for it, but I don’t care.  I’M the decider.

Now I must go plug in my cell phone so Husband can reach me, should he try to set himself on fire again.

Looking For Love In All the Wrong Places

I know there are some of ya’ll out there right this very second, prowling around…trying to find yourself some lovin’ by Monday morning.  And that’s fine…I ain’t mad atcha.  But for all things holy, don’t go anywhere near what you’re about to see here.  Unless you’re a freaky weasel. But let me be the voice of reason.  Come Tuesday, you’ll be stuck with a human hemorrhoid that cannot be removed with the salve.

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Ted Williams: Homeless No Moe

So I didn’t win the lottery last night.   Obviously.  Do you really think I’d sit down to blog if I’d just won $355 million smackers?  Really?  By the time I’d hit ‘Publish’, someone would have already disarmed my alarm system, kicked down the door and shot me in the face.  Trust me….they’re out there, these kind of people.  The same folks who troll the newspapers for obituaries so they can have a burgle-fest while everyone is off mourning.  It’s a shame, really.  Obviously, these people weren’t breast-fed.

Anyway…in case you haven’t already seen/heard this…I’m posting it here.  I’m originally from Columbus, Ohio.  The intersection this dude is standing at is a hop, skip and jump away from the Geh-Toe.  Liquor store ever 3 feet and a crack-house between each liquor store.  So it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that 99.9% of the pan handlers you see around there are drunk with a cracked head.

So I’m sure hundreds of people went flying by this homeless man (Ted Williams) without giving him a second glance.  The newspaper must’ve been hard-up for news so they decided to interview the guy.  And you know the rest.  Uploaded, YouTube, viral, blah blah blah.

Ted may not have bought a lottery ticket last night….but he sure won one today!  Hopefully he can handle all the b.s. that comes with being ‘found’.  So I lift my Mucinex and generic brand bottled water (I’m sick, cheap and can’t drink alcohol) and give you a toast.

Talk on, brother….talk on.