I don’t know if this is a Vegas thing or a nationwide thing but what in the hell is the deal with pedestrians that have the audacity and nerve to take their time walking across the street. This is a huge pet peeve of mine. And I’ve had multiple conversations with my brother and my buddy Mike in regards to this.
I don’t mind stopping for pedestrians but some of these idiots (scumbags) take walking across the street to a whole new level. Many of them don’t use the crosswalks and I often wonder if they even care about getting hit. Perhaps one day I’ll just hit them because sometimes they make it so difficult not to plow into them and continue down the road.
Often, these individuals walk very slowly and will stare you down while you approach. They have this sense of entitlement of the streets. Cars must stop for them. Often, their pants are around their knees and you get to see their boxer shorts as they arrogantly take their time walking across the street. If you look at these individuals in the face they look right at you as if they’re willing to fight you, or fight the vehicle you’re driving. It’s really ignorant. If you honk or yell at them you’ve created a war.
You’d think these individuals would hurry across the street, you know, so they don’t get ran over. Nope. They’re never in a rush and usually enjoy the fact that you have to stop for them. I wonder if they even know that if they get hit, while not in a crosswalk, the driver is rarely held at fault. And even if the driver was held accountable they’d be dead anyway. Every time I read an article about a pedestrian getting hit I always wonder if the guy in the vehicle was a little bit like me and just had enough and conveniently just kept driving.
The 80's- What a Decade!!!
The 80's!-- What a Decade
Monday, August 30, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Gimme your change. Now!
I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older or perhaps I’m becoming more cynical or even if it’s coincidental, but I’ve been noticing lately that the homeless have become more forward. More brazen. More confident. More rude.
There was a time I remember when a confrontation with a homeless man/woman went something like this…
Homeless: Hello, sir. Could you spare some change? I’m hungry. (And that was followed by the reason they were homeless)
Me (with a warm heart): Oh yeah, sure. Here you go. God bless.
I always gave. And I never judged. I always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Who am I to judge?
You want a beer? Fine.
You’re hungry? Cool.
Drug habit? Ok. Again, whatever, here’s a buck. God bless. See you later.
I’m beginning to reevaluate my free handouts and monetary generosity. Why you ask?
Well, twice in the last two months I’ve been approached by- quite frankly- rude homeless people. I will share with you one of the cases…
I was at the gas station and I was on the phone with my dad. It wasn’t a life altering conversation but it was pretty important. A homeless woman came up to me and very abruptly and loudly said: Can you spare some change? She had all the classic symptoms of being homeless- dirty, smelly, bad hair, greasy nails, worn out shoes, etc. She was indeed without a home.
I looked right at her, smiled, and signaled “hold on” by giving her the nonverbal pointed index finger. It’s something most normal people do when they’re talking on the phone with someone and only need a quick minute to wrap up the phone conversation. I was actually planning on giving her some change but my hands were full with my phone and the gas pump (I was pumping). I really didn’t feel I was being rude and I thought to myself this lady can wait a sec. She certainly wasn’t in a rush, was she?
Were my 3 quarters, 3 nickels and 2 pennies something she just couldn’t wait for?
Was she in a rush to get home? Doubt it.
Was she late for work? Doubt that too.
Well, no later than about 45 seconds later she came back up to me- while I was just about done with my conversation but not quite finished- and very rudely said: I asked you a question!
I was shocked. Not annoyed, just shocked. I got off the phone and not knowing what else to do I gave her some change. When I gave it to her she looked disappointed. I guess I looked like a guy worth a few green pieces of paper. (Never mind I had on a sleeveless T-shirt, mesh shorts and sandals and I was putting gas into my beat up truck that I rarely wash)
I may have been willing to give her 2-3 bucks if she hadn’t been so rude but this woman was downright mean. In hindsight I wish I hadn’t given her the money but it’s OK.
I have nothing against the homeless and I do feel for many of them. And I almost always give change when someone asks me, but there are certain ways to ask. When you want something from someone show some manners! Perhaps this woman’s rudeness is what caused her to not get jobs which in turn caused her to go homeless.
She probably would go to interviews, interview fairly well, and then at the end of the interview would scream DID I GET THE JOB OR WHAT!?
Well, we were considering you, and your resume looks fantastic, but we’re going to go with someone else.
Yeah, that’s probably why she’s homeless.
There was a time I remember when a confrontation with a homeless man/woman went something like this…
Homeless: Hello, sir. Could you spare some change? I’m hungry. (And that was followed by the reason they were homeless)
Me (with a warm heart): Oh yeah, sure. Here you go. God bless.
I always gave. And I never judged. I always gave them the benefit of the doubt. Who am I to judge?
You want a beer? Fine.
You’re hungry? Cool.
Drug habit? Ok. Again, whatever, here’s a buck. God bless. See you later.
I’m beginning to reevaluate my free handouts and monetary generosity. Why you ask?
Well, twice in the last two months I’ve been approached by- quite frankly- rude homeless people. I will share with you one of the cases…
I was at the gas station and I was on the phone with my dad. It wasn’t a life altering conversation but it was pretty important. A homeless woman came up to me and very abruptly and loudly said: Can you spare some change? She had all the classic symptoms of being homeless- dirty, smelly, bad hair, greasy nails, worn out shoes, etc. She was indeed without a home.
I looked right at her, smiled, and signaled “hold on” by giving her the nonverbal pointed index finger. It’s something most normal people do when they’re talking on the phone with someone and only need a quick minute to wrap up the phone conversation. I was actually planning on giving her some change but my hands were full with my phone and the gas pump (I was pumping). I really didn’t feel I was being rude and I thought to myself this lady can wait a sec. She certainly wasn’t in a rush, was she?
Were my 3 quarters, 3 nickels and 2 pennies something she just couldn’t wait for?
Was she in a rush to get home? Doubt it.
Was she late for work? Doubt that too.
Well, no later than about 45 seconds later she came back up to me- while I was just about done with my conversation but not quite finished- and very rudely said: I asked you a question!
I was shocked. Not annoyed, just shocked. I got off the phone and not knowing what else to do I gave her some change. When I gave it to her she looked disappointed. I guess I looked like a guy worth a few green pieces of paper. (Never mind I had on a sleeveless T-shirt, mesh shorts and sandals and I was putting gas into my beat up truck that I rarely wash)
I may have been willing to give her 2-3 bucks if she hadn’t been so rude but this woman was downright mean. In hindsight I wish I hadn’t given her the money but it’s OK.
I have nothing against the homeless and I do feel for many of them. And I almost always give change when someone asks me, but there are certain ways to ask. When you want something from someone show some manners! Perhaps this woman’s rudeness is what caused her to not get jobs which in turn caused her to go homeless.
She probably would go to interviews, interview fairly well, and then at the end of the interview would scream DID I GET THE JOB OR WHAT!?
Well, we were considering you, and your resume looks fantastic, but we’re going to go with someone else.
Yeah, that’s probably why she’s homeless.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Good for the Skin...
My normal summer routine is waking up at 7:36 in the morning, with the dogs, and letting them out. Actually, I wake up at 7:36 because of the dogs. I could probably sleep until 9ish but Molly won’t have that. No biggy. During the school year I’m up at 5:45 so getting up at 7:36 is really like sleeping in. I digress.
Well, this morning when I let the dogs out I noticed it was a bit humid. I looked up the weather report and the humidity was 12%. This really doesn’t constitute “humid” but for people that live in Vegas this is very moist. People from Houston, Atlanta, and Tampa would laugh at me for saying moist or humid when it's only 12%.
Now I love my wife. She loves me. But whenever I mention that it’s humid outside- followed by “I hate the humidity”- she has the same two responses. "The humidity is good for your hair. The humidity is good for your skin." Wow! Great. Thanks sweetie.
You know what? Keep your humidity! I’d rather be dry and comfortable. I’d rather not have the perpetual feeling of that just got out of the shower feeling. I’d rather not feel like my car is a sauna. I’d rather not be sweating because the trash had to go to the curb. Humidity- and places with high humidity- are no place I want to be for long periods of a time. I’d rather have dry skin and mediocre/bad hair. I’ve been living in a hot, dry climate all my life and you know what? My hair isn’t that bad and the cost of lotion has not caused me any financial distress.
My wife and I were married in Texas. We just so happened to pick a weekend when the humidity was in the 90s. I can’t lie. It was brutal. Things I didn't know: I didn’t know that toenails could produce sweat. I also didn’t know that you could soak through 4 undershirts at a single outdoor event. I didn’t know that your forehead remains shiny even when you’re indoors.
Furthermore, everyone looks like they either just got done running 6 miles or just went through intense child labor. No one looks relaxed, clean and comfortable. No one!
And when you mention this to the locals all they can do is smile and say “I know. Bad, huh?” And my response is “how/why do you live here?!”
I know it can get hot here in the desert (116 degrees), but I’ll take that heat over 90 percent humidity any day of the week. You can keep your moisture and the bugs that comes with it. I’ll keep my dry heat. Thank you very much.
Have a sweaty day...
Well, this morning when I let the dogs out I noticed it was a bit humid. I looked up the weather report and the humidity was 12%. This really doesn’t constitute “humid” but for people that live in Vegas this is very moist. People from Houston, Atlanta, and Tampa would laugh at me for saying moist or humid when it's only 12%.
Now I love my wife. She loves me. But whenever I mention that it’s humid outside- followed by “I hate the humidity”- she has the same two responses. "The humidity is good for your hair. The humidity is good for your skin." Wow! Great. Thanks sweetie.
You know what? Keep your humidity! I’d rather be dry and comfortable. I’d rather not have the perpetual feeling of that just got out of the shower feeling. I’d rather not feel like my car is a sauna. I’d rather not be sweating because the trash had to go to the curb. Humidity- and places with high humidity- are no place I want to be for long periods of a time. I’d rather have dry skin and mediocre/bad hair. I’ve been living in a hot, dry climate all my life and you know what? My hair isn’t that bad and the cost of lotion has not caused me any financial distress.
My wife and I were married in Texas. We just so happened to pick a weekend when the humidity was in the 90s. I can’t lie. It was brutal. Things I didn't know: I didn’t know that toenails could produce sweat. I also didn’t know that you could soak through 4 undershirts at a single outdoor event. I didn’t know that your forehead remains shiny even when you’re indoors.
Furthermore, everyone looks like they either just got done running 6 miles or just went through intense child labor. No one looks relaxed, clean and comfortable. No one!
And when you mention this to the locals all they can do is smile and say “I know. Bad, huh?” And my response is “how/why do you live here?!”
I know it can get hot here in the desert (116 degrees), but I’ll take that heat over 90 percent humidity any day of the week. You can keep your moisture and the bugs that comes with it. I’ll keep my dry heat. Thank you very much.
Have a sweaty day...
Saturday, August 21, 2010
We Won!
I love sports. Love them. Like millions of Americans I passionately follow my favorite teams. I love the Buffalo Bills, St Louis Cardinals, UNLV athletics and since I met my wife- the Texas Aggies.
As much as I love my teams, however, I am not a “psycho” fan. Nor do I lose sleep, get nervous, or go through long bouts of depression over the outcomes of athletic events. Not worth it. Sports are entertainment, not life. So if the Buffalo Bills lose a football game it really isn’t the end of the world.
What annoys me about sports the most is seeing or running into what I like to call “psycho” fans. We’ve all seen them. Usually an overweight, balding guy in his 40’s. He has the vanity plate that say YNKEEFN along with the license plate cover. He also wears the hat and jersey and knows everything about all the players and he takes it to heart when his Yankees win or lose.
What irks me the most about these types of fans is when they refer to their favorite team as WE. I cannot stand this. But people do it all the time. And I hear it all the time. “Yeah, we lost last week to the Lions. Next week we play the Packers.” Excuse me?! No, the (insert psycho fan’s team name here) lost to the Lions. You sir had nothing to do with it. Nothing whatsoever. The only people that should use “we” in reference to a team are the actual players on that team.
This really annoys me when people do this, but they do. These “psycho” fans just don’t get it. Athletes don’t care about you or your job or your life. They don’t know who you are. So, I really think some of these fans need to tone it down a notch. Keep things in perspective. And for the love of God stop saying “we lost” or “we won” because that would mean you’re on the team. You’re not.
As much as I love my teams, however, I am not a “psycho” fan. Nor do I lose sleep, get nervous, or go through long bouts of depression over the outcomes of athletic events. Not worth it. Sports are entertainment, not life. So if the Buffalo Bills lose a football game it really isn’t the end of the world.
What annoys me about sports the most is seeing or running into what I like to call “psycho” fans. We’ve all seen them. Usually an overweight, balding guy in his 40’s. He has the vanity plate that say YNKEEFN along with the license plate cover. He also wears the hat and jersey and knows everything about all the players and he takes it to heart when his Yankees win or lose.
What irks me the most about these types of fans is when they refer to their favorite team as WE. I cannot stand this. But people do it all the time. And I hear it all the time. “Yeah, we lost last week to the Lions. Next week we play the Packers.” Excuse me?! No, the (insert psycho fan’s team name here) lost to the Lions. You sir had nothing to do with it. Nothing whatsoever. The only people that should use “we” in reference to a team are the actual players on that team.
This really annoys me when people do this, but they do. These “psycho” fans just don’t get it. Athletes don’t care about you or your job or your life. They don’t know who you are. So, I really think some of these fans need to tone it down a notch. Keep things in perspective. And for the love of God stop saying “we lost” or “we won” because that would mean you’re on the team. You’re not.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
A new look... Shave or Move Out?
Today was shave day for my mustache. 2 days ago was shave day for my beard. Or, as better described, my best attempt at a beard. I’m kind of facial hair deprived. However, I’ve never really gone longer than 5-6 days without shaving. So this summer I gave it the ‘ol college try. I stopped shaving around father’s day and decided to see what would happen. I actually kind of enjoyed the experience. And I liked my facial hair results.
My wife, on the other hand, hated it. Guess who won? Well, I’m clean shaven as I write this blog. Wife won. She always does. Being as I had the facial hair for like 5 weeks I kind of look weird to myself now that I’m clean. I’ll get over it. I did like it though. I really, really did. And since I’ve never been a big fan of other people’s opinions of me, I wasn’t too concerned of the comments I received. I do enjoy being married, and I ultimately have to keep the wife happy, so the beard had to go. It was fun while it lasted. I enjoyed being called homeless by some of my friends, and mountain man by others.
Honestly, what it came down to, is that I just wanted to try something different for a while. It wasn’t a lifelong thing, nor was I trying to annoy my wife. I just never did it before so I thought I would. Since my dad is facial hair deficient I knew it would be a battle, but again, why not? I’m off all summer and a little pubic face never hurt anyone.
I will say this about beards: they’re cool looking but very itchy. Mustaches with a beard are fine; mustaches solo are awful. Most women don’t like beards (and not just my wife). Beards make you look older. Food gets stuck in facial hair.
But overall, I miss my beard. I want to grow it out again for the winter. So, I really hope my wife lets me... I'll keep you posted!
Welcome to America!
Recently I was at the airport picking up a friend of mine- Cole Martin. He’s awesome and also a blogger but this blog isn’t about him. As I went into the airport I began one of my favorite pastimes- People Watching. I don’t know why I love doing this but I do. It doesn’t matter where I’m at or what I’m doing but people watching is so fun. Basically, it’s watching people that don’t know you’re watching them. I guess the law calls that stalking. Whatever. The airport- and Las Vegas in general- is a wonderful place to watch people. Actually, the more I think about it, Las Vegas could be the capital of the world for people watching.
Well, I came upon a couple who was really excited about being in Vegas. As I got closer to them I realized something was different. They were French. They were speaking French. And then it hit me. I wonder how many people come to Las Vegas for their first stay in the United States. My god! Can you imagine? A person coming to the United States for the very first time and they get off the plane and they walk into an airport full of slot machines, half-naked advertisements, and tuxedo clad limo drivers looking for wealthy people. They then get to walk outside, get in a cab and see the LV strip. I mean don’t get me wrong, we could do worse as a nation than Vegas as our representative, but I’m just not so sure LV is the best, most honest, representation of our great country. I guess it beats Yuma, Ariz. or El Paso, TX but what a culture shock it would be to come to the States for the first time via Sin City.
Is there really anything American about Las Vegas? Does Las Vegas encompass the American Dream? Who knows? Who am I to say? I love it here but I also know this place is, well, crazy. And it’s also very unique which is one of the reasons I love this place. Where else can you eat a steak at four in the morning? Or drink beer at 7 a.m. with other people? Where else will you find millions of hotel rooms that are rarely empty? I could go on but this isn’t a blog about Las Vegas. I just don't want foreigners getting upset when they visit Detroit and their asking where the MGM Grand is.
Next time you’re at the airport in Vegas look around. And look at anyone that looks foreign and ask yourself- is this their first time in America?
More importantly, who told them- if you really want to experience the U.S. then go to Las Vegas, NV. Ha ha…
Well, I came upon a couple who was really excited about being in Vegas. As I got closer to them I realized something was different. They were French. They were speaking French. And then it hit me. I wonder how many people come to Las Vegas for their first stay in the United States. My god! Can you imagine? A person coming to the United States for the very first time and they get off the plane and they walk into an airport full of slot machines, half-naked advertisements, and tuxedo clad limo drivers looking for wealthy people. They then get to walk outside, get in a cab and see the LV strip. I mean don’t get me wrong, we could do worse as a nation than Vegas as our representative, but I’m just not so sure LV is the best, most honest, representation of our great country. I guess it beats Yuma, Ariz. or El Paso, TX but what a culture shock it would be to come to the States for the first time via Sin City.
Is there really anything American about Las Vegas? Does Las Vegas encompass the American Dream? Who knows? Who am I to say? I love it here but I also know this place is, well, crazy. And it’s also very unique which is one of the reasons I love this place. Where else can you eat a steak at four in the morning? Or drink beer at 7 a.m. with other people? Where else will you find millions of hotel rooms that are rarely empty? I could go on but this isn’t a blog about Las Vegas. I just don't want foreigners getting upset when they visit Detroit and their asking where the MGM Grand is.
Next time you’re at the airport in Vegas look around. And look at anyone that looks foreign and ask yourself- is this their first time in America?
More importantly, who told them- if you really want to experience the U.S. then go to Las Vegas, NV. Ha ha…
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