This is not a political blog. I have no desire to rant and rattle on about my political views and why you should or should not vote for this one, that one, or the third one who really shouldn't even be running because he's just mucking up the chances of the second one. There are plenty of blogs exactly like that, though, so if that's the horse you want to ride, well, do a search and saddle up, cowboy.

This is not a blog about the short-comings of the American education system or the stupidity of the next ( or any) generation. If you think the school system failed you and you can still read this, then congratulations,Kilroy! You managed to rise above it. Kudos to you.

This is absolutely not an anti-American blog. I may have named it "Stupid America", but as corny as it sounds, I really do love this country. I will, however, admit I am often embarrassed by it. I just don't understand how a country that once gave us Ben Franklin, Thomas Edison, Sojourner Truth and Walt Whitman could now be serving up Real Housewives, teen vampires, info-mercials, Humvee limousines and all things Kardashian. Where, exactly, did we go off-script? This blog is my journal of musings on American culture and mores as I try to find some answers.



Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Welcome To The Non-Sequiturium



      Well, here we are again. To combat writer's block and my lack of inspiration and enthusiasm of late, I've decided to introduce a possibly recurring feature I'll call "The Non-Sequiturium", in which I basically spout off random thoughts and anecdotes which will mostly have nothing to do with anything else or even each other. And really, isn't that what blogging is all about? Unless you're one of those ten trillion mommy bloggers who blog about how cute it is when your kid eats your lipstick and then gets sick in your purse ( Awww!! Precious. ), Or maybe one of the legions of Jesus bloggers who blog about, you know, Jesus. Which is cool with me, really. At least Jesus never ate anyone's lipstick. Not that I have a problem with kids or Jesus, I just don't care to write about either of them. What I do care to write about is:

Hipsters today are wearing things that the hipsters 20 years ago would have deemed "unhip". "Hip" is in the eye and time of the beholder/purveyor/hipster. But...there is no way a mullet hairdo is ever going to be ironic. Just say "No".

Last night I had a dream that Ray Romano and Jennifer Beals were doing a big Vegas review of Flash Dance, complete with feather head-dressed showgirls and a crazy laser show, and I was at a dress rehearsal. It was...odd.

I find it interesting that feminist Simone De Beauvoir's name can be loosely translated as Simone De Good Lookin'...

I heard an argument the other day over which generation invented "goth". One person said it was invented in the 90's, the other said the '80's or maybe even the '70's.  My vote goes to the Victorians, because they are some creepy bastards. Go read some Poe and examine some curio cabinets full of shrunken heads, mummy powder and strange bones and tell me otherwise. Not to mention the waistcoats, stove pipe hats and bustles, spirit photography,  mourning jewelry, mourning portraiture, mourning EVERYTHING... Like I said, creepy bastards. Bow down before the ones you serve...

How did Huey Lewis and the News ever get a recording deal? What were people thinking in the '80's?

After the telephone was invented, there was a debate as to what exactly should be said when one answered it. Alexander Graham Bell preferred the phrase, "ahoy-hoy", which was a fairly common greeting in the 1870's.  Eventually, "hello" won out,  but Mr. Burns on "The Simpsons" still uses "ahoy-hoy", because old habits are hard to break.

I read in today's paper that the average monthly rental price of a New York City one bedroom apartment is now $2,535. That's just insane.

I also read in today's paper that dentists are getting hot under the collar because Macy's has changed the route of its annual Thanksgiving Day parade from 7th Avenue to 6th Avenue starting next Thanksgiving. Now, why should the dentists be so upset? Well, because this means that their hotel rooms won't look out on the parade anymore. You see, the dentists have their annual "meeting" ( read: Bacchanalia ) in New York right at Thanksgiving, and their hotels are always along the parade route so they all have a great view.  The "meeting" organizers are angry and upset because they say many will not show up now. Hmm. What the hell goes on at this dental convention, and is nitrous oxide  involved?

I heard that the woman who invented the scrunchy is a multi-millionaire now. I wish I invented the scrunchy. Seriously, how hard could it have been?

I am always amazed at the people who jockey for the absolute closest parking spot they can get,  so they don't have to walk too far when they go to the gym to use the treadmill.

The most common plastic surgery procedure in the world is liposuction. Ick.

There used to be a store in NoLita ( the neighborhood north of Little Italy) that sold only rice pudding in dozens of flavors and varieties. I wonder how long that lasted.

When I was a kid I was absolutely terrified of Bigfoot. Bigfoot, according to various 3rd grade class mates,  had been sighted in Central Park. Also in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, and Alley Pond Park in Queens. That Bigfoot got around.  There was no logic to these alleged sightings, but how could my very wise friends be wrong? Their sister's friend's cousin's buddy had actually seen Bigfoot while playing baseball/riding a bike/walking the dog.  The whole school was in an uproar. Bigfoot supposedly could be recognized by his eerie, half-moon eyes, which shone deep yellow. (Apparently the fact that he would be a seven foot tall hairy upright creature with huge feet was not enough of an identifying marker).  Each night I would close my eyes and see those shining yellow half-moon eyes. I slept with a night light on every night. If I slept at all, so scared was I that Bigfoot would barge into my room one fateful  night and what, eat me? Scare me to death? Finally, my brother, in his infinite little kid wisdom, said, " How could Bigfoot get up to your room? How could he get to an apartment window or even the second floor of a house? He would stay in the park and hunt squirrels. Duh!" This seemed to put my mind at ease about Bigfoot and I rested easier, until, shortly thereafter I switched my unfounded fears to UFO's and aliens. They could easily get up to any window, since they flew around in space ships and could also land in trees and on flat roof tops. Looking back, I realize, I was a weird kid. And also, it's no wonder I'm a fan of "The X-Files".  I want to believe...

3 comments:

  1. There used to be a restaurant (if that's even the right word) near NYU whose menu consisted of coffee, tea, and babka.

    It was really good babka.

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  2. Thanks for the peek into the world that is you!G

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  3. I feel I should say that I don't dislike the mommy bloggers. In fact, there are some that are really fun to read. And some bloggers are mommies but not necessarily mommy bloggers. They write about lots of stuff, and just happen to be moms as well, and sometimes write about that. Which is great. One of my faves:http://www.midwesternmamah.com
    Very much worth checking out!

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