The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

De Jour of the Week (6/20/10)

June 20, 2010

6/20/2010

I re-read this poem and it makes me sound very crotchet-y old man-like. That’s only partly true. Really it’s just fun to make fun of loud, trampy 13 year old kids.

Ode to the Mall Food Court

It’s Saturday afternoon and I’ve got nothing to do
I make a decision that I’ll soon rue
Yes, I’m on my way to the mall
To window shop and have a real ball.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You’re 13 years old for God’s sake,
So put some damn clothes on.

I arrive and holy cow look at that parking lot
I’m liable to rot before I find a spot
Aha!, a spot!, there, by the Sears
Please don’t walk in the middle of the street my-could-you-walk-any-slower dears.

The parking lot experience is now behind me
And I’m approaching the mall entrance quickly
What treasures will I find here today
And at what overpriced prices will I get to pay.

I’m in the body of the mall, looking for one of those maps
How long until Apple has a ‘You Are Here’ mall map apps?
The video game store is calling to me first
Then some Sbarro for pizza I always think will be better than it is, and a drink to quench my thirst.

“Excuse me,” the gaggle of ten year olds move aside
I feel awkwardly old and tall – yes, I’m an adult that likes the ‘Star Wars Legos’ game, don’t be snide.
With a new, used video game in my hands
I’m heading to the food court to let mall-food grease fill my glands.

Are those shorts, or are you wearing a wedgie?
Shouldn’t you have hit puberty before owning a shirt with the playboy bunny?
I’m in the food court, and I’m having trouble getting around
These teenagers are dressed like idiots, and they make so much sound.

Where are the parents, where is someone not on a cell!
Jeans that skinny can’t be serving your, you know, that well.
I’m in line for my pizza and I’m overhearing some ‘conversations’
The future is bright! It’s hopeful! … But I’ve got my reservations.

I survived the mall, which is saying something
And I’ll admit I’m judgmental and harsh – but not over nothing.
People, please, make your sons and daughters wear pants that fit –
And parents who dress like those kids – you look dumb as shit.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
You’re 13 years old for God’s sake,
So put some damn clothes on.

Copyright 2010 Brad Stanley

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Du Jour of the Week

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Weekly Wacko (36)

June 18, 2010

Hey, look at that box! It’s made out of soap … (Anyway, it’s the weekend, so that’s reason enough to be nice to everyone.)

Smile Pretty

I’ve had several female friends who have told me about things like this, but never a guy friend – so if you want to comment and write about something knock yourself out.

The various friends told me about guys they had big crushes on who were quite a bit older. These guys wouldn’t do anything to lead them on, but they were nice. This is all it takes when you have a little-kid crush (you can still have these as an adult, like the time I sat by a baseball player’s wife on an airplane). But, they remembered vividly years later going out of their way to see the guy and act spazzy and stupid around him. They were harmless-fun type situations.

My example of this came before the start of 7th grade. My family had moved from Kansas to New York. When we got there my parents took their usual action to help me make friends – they “encouraged” me to sign up for sports teams (they did this for my brother and sister as well).

There was a summer track program that was going on currently, and I could show up as I pleased. My mom was thrilled by this because it meant I could try and make some friends before school started, and so I was forced to be thrilled as well.

The first time I went out to one of the meetings (basically people just jogged around a track to prep for fall sports) a high school girl, aka an older woman (ooh la la), told me that she thought I was ‘cute.’ She said this in the same way she would’ve said it to a dog, but that didn’t matter. She told me I was cute.

Oh yes, you can bet I took that home with me. It’s amazing how clearly I remember that even to this day.

So this weekly wacko comes with a sentimental preach – smile at somebody, say something nice for no reason other than you happened to think something nice about them – you’d be surprised how you can make someone’s day without even trying.

Of course, I don’t practice what I preach, but that’s a crazy idea anyhow.

(I would be too preoccupied with making sure people don’t think my compliment is a come-on.)

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Weekly Wacko

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My Zombie Roomy (6/17/10)

June 17, 2010

6/17/10
I don’t really like scary movies, and zombie flicks are included in that. I have an active imagination, and I don’t need any fuel to scare the crap out of me.

But, I’ll tell you, lately I’ve had a craving to watch a zombie flick. I feel sort of bad about this, too. I feel like if I had a dog for a roommate and I had a craving to watch ‘Old Yeller’. What’s wrong with me? Why do I want to watch zombies eat it?

I decided to be tactful about it, so I got a zombie flick and a sad human flick, that involved people dying. We watched the human flick, ‘Saving Private Ryan’, and the zombie cried during certain parts (that’s a sad movie!).

I thought, ok, yeah, crying makes sense. So then we put in a zombie movie, and he cried (as far as I could tell) an equivalent amount. I didn’t know what to do, but it was sort of contagious, so I cried a little too.

I think I won’t be watching another zombie movie for a while.

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My Zombie Roomy

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