About Me

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Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Andrew was born in London, UK, raised in Toronto, Canada, and cavorted in Ohtawara, Japan for three years. He is married, has a son, a cat named Freddy and a dog named Shaggy (after the dudes in Scooby-Doo). He has over 35,000 comic books and a plethora of pioneer aviation-related tobacco and sports cards and likes to build LEGO dioramas. Along with writing for a monthly industrial magazine, he also writes comic books and hates writing in the 3rd person. He also hates having to write this crap that no one will ever read. He also writes an aviation blog: Pioneers Of Aviation ( https://av8rblog.wordpress.com/ ) - a cool blog on early fliers. He also wants to do more writing - for money, though. Help him out so he can stop talking in the 3rd person.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Not Finding Supernatural On TV

Do you know what I hate?

It's not finding my favorite show on TV - Supernatural... specifically Season 10 in Ontario, Canada.

Considering its stars practically live in Vancouver nine months of the year while it has been filming for lo these past 10 years, you think someone in Ontario would pick it up and broadcast it!

CHCH out of Hamilton had done that the previously bunch of years - but no longer.

What's a loyal viewer to do?

All one can do is Bay to the Pirate gods a day after the show is to have aired and thank the lucky gods that some Americans think enough to share it - or so I hear.

I wouldn't know.

Do you know what I hate?

It's not finding my favorite show on TV - Supernatural.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Illogical Logic

Do you know what I hate?

Illogical logic.

So… how's your week going?

Mine's mostly meh, but it's because it's neither good nor bad.

Although my son may not be playing soccer this year, owing to baseball commitments, I will once again help out with a soccer team as an assistant coach in an effort to even out the nice left-arm of the sunglasses tan I have on my face right now thanks to a mere 40 minutes out at a local batting cage this past weekend.

I can only imagine what some of you folks with a pale complexion, like my wife, must be dealing with.

But it's not all rosy me.

For those of you who know or maybe even care, I spend most of my creative writing time putting out a daily blog called "Japan—It's A Wonderful Rife" for… hmm… coming up to the five year anniversary in a few months time.

It was originally done to be a somewhat chronological diary that would showcase the 88 or so comedic columns I wrote about my three-year stay in Japan between 1990-1993 while a junior high school English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.

I actually open the blog with the weird statement: "I didn't want to go to Japan. To be perfectly frank, I was just trying to get laid."

I explain how I was a near-26-year-old virgin that had never left home before despite seven years of post-secondary education, and that I rarely had a woman smile at me (still a concern as the years go by), nor had any knowledge of how to look after myself as I had never cooked, cleaned, done laundry or gone shopping before… I might have gone shopping once or twice with the boys in preparation of a camping trip. I'm pretty sure a couple of women somewhere have smiled at me as I walked away.

By the way… you know how they say that every camping trip always has one guy who snores like a jet plane with asthma? Don't you believe it! And while I won't speak for my fellow happy campers, I've always had a nice, peaceful sleep.

You see… that's the sort of self-deprecating humor I use.

Right from day one, I utilize that same style of "let's poke fun of others" but "make sure you poke fun at yourself" kind of writing. The point that is evident to people with a sense of humor and a functional brain is that everyone is the same, but different.

In Japan, I did learn how to do all the little things, as I suppose I learned them all through osmosis by watching my parents all those years... and despite trial and error, I did learn how to grow up and as a child of the 1960s am still learning how to grow up on a daily basis.

I don't think the Japanese people are any different than anyone else… they live, love, laugh, hate, work, have family, eat, play, have sex and die - hopefully not in that order. Yeah, politics and religion and other crap is part of the equation, but all in all, aside from different circumstances, they are the same as everyone else.

It's that attitude that made surviving Japan a pretty simple experience for me - regardless of how frustratingly difficult or easy or was on a daily basis.

Anyhow… I'm not sure when or why I decided to deviate from merely writing out the funny stuff about Japan to offer news or features or essays or opinion pieces on everything from art, social stuff, history, geography, religion, war, to the sights, the sounds, the smells of Japan, but I also decided to offer up my daily diary… which can get downright sexy, and thus increasingly nauseating for those of you with more puritanical tastes than myself.

It's all pretty funny.

It's about MY evolution… as a person… where yeah, I come off looking and sounding like a complete egotistical ass clown, because in hindsight, that's how I see myself 20 years removed… but of course, back then, everyone else was wrong and I was right.

I make no apologies for my past life's ass-ness. I admit it. I see it. I don't revel in it, and if it appears as though I do, you can be pretty damn sure it's me and my sense of humor.

Apparently I have one. I have proof!

When I left EB Games (a video game store chain store) at Sherway Gardens in Toronto yesterday with my son, the clerk thanked me for the laughs… you know, because I actually talked to him as a person - something I actually do quite often at places I walk into…. it's why any store I frequent more than once - they know who I am... and even if it's not true, it sure seems like I get that special service that makes me feel special. (I like to believe that the folks I deal with are actually nice staff, and treat everyone that way whether they deserve it or not.)

Anyhow… here's a poor segue... I sometimes put out these blogs that deal with sex.

I try to be fair and present the facts or the fallacies and when I say I don't know something, I'm pretty straightforward about it, but since this is also MY blog, if I say something, it's because that is what I know… though I will preface it by stating it's not necessarily the gospel truth, just the facts as I know them to be.

I have often gone through multiple, multiple sources of information, each one conflicting the other in an effort to provide a one-stop-shop of factual information… I've spent 20 hours researching some of these blogs, and almost as long writing one or two of them, just because I want to give my best effort with the best information possible.

If you care to read it, I care to provide good, honest information.

So I wrote an article entitled: Why Japanese Women Like Gaijin (Foreign) Men, sort of as a companion piece as to why Japanese Men Like Gaijin Women.

I explained the pro's and con's to the best of my ability.

I am extremely self-deprecating in this article:

"I did okay considering my fair to middling looks... and yet, of all those opportunities, only once did I ask a woman out.

Every other time... I was asked out by the women. Both gaijin and Japanese women."


Or, how about this one:

"I thought - for the first time in my life - that I was hot sh!t. Of course... by the time I got to Japan at the age of 25, I was still a virgin. So, hot or not, I still had that problem filling me with self-doubt every time I looked at a woman."

And so…  I always find it amusing when I get hate mail accusing me of being a sex addict or disgusting misogynist pervert.

Here's such a comment that I received on Monday, May 26, 2014. I'll leave the typos in, because fug… typos are typos… everyone makes them.

"An intersting testimony, but the way you speak about yourself is disgusting.
A kind of overconfident sex addicted. After having watched a few Bollywood film, i think it's a comon for people of your ethnicity. Males chauvinis thinking to be wonderful. I see it with people from India being financialy succesful in the US. Such arrogant and unfriendly people.
Neverless looking to the scholl programms in the USA and Canda compared to Europe you are all under educated."


So… the story I wrote is interesting, but apparently because I am perceived to be someone who can easily talk about sex and enjoys sex, I am disgusting, which helps explain why over 1-billion people from India are arrogant and unfriendly.

I love stuff like this…

Okay… I can't resist. TYpos:

  • 'intersting' should be 'interesting';
  • 'comon' should be 'common';
  • 'chauvinis' should be 'chauvinist';
  • 'financialy' should be 'financially';
  • 'sucessful' should be 'successful';
  • 'Neverless' should be 'Nevertheless';
  • 'scholl' should be 'school';
  • 'programms' should be 'programs' or 'programmes';
  • 'Canda' should be 'Canada'.

Not bad… only nine typos, which I hope are typos, otherwise our scholl system am in dyer straights.

Well... maybe not Canada's. Every kid is forced to be able to read the back and understand the back of a hockey card by the time they are 24-months-old. 

So… should I be concerned about this Anonymous commentator's racist comments and generalizations?

No, not really… it's a free country… or at least I assume he or she is from a 'free-country'… and everyone is entitled to their opinion and everyone's opinion is correct, even if they aren't correct. That's why they are called opinions and not unadulterated facts.

Do you think the person writing in realized they were racist by damning all people from India as arrogant and unfriendly merely because that's what he or she has come up against in their daily life of watching Indian Bollywood movies?

Why watch a Bollywood movie if they hate Indians? Well, because he or she doesn't hate Indians… he or she just finds them arrogant and unfriendly.


Dude or Dudette, you should know that Indians often describe themselves as the most racist people on the planet, as they seem to hate everyone or dislike everyone who isn't of their caste or religion or from their province.

Maybe that's true, but maybe it's not. One person said that - my father did a long time ago, and I doubt he would own up to saying something like that now, but I've never taken it as the one and only truth.

To be fair, I've met a lot of arrogant and unfriendly people from a lot of countries, including: Russians, Americans, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, England, Italy, Croats, Serbia, Bosnia, Mexico, Philippines (actually, not from there), Germans (actually, not from here either)… but you get the idea… there are idiots everywhere… both arrogant and unfriendly, but I've also met so many other people from those countries and more where it's the exact opposite.

I might sometimes come across as being arrogant and unfriendly, but that might be because of a certain circumstance… but that's not who I am.

And to say that you have formed an opinion of an entire race of people from a country - these brown Caucasians - just because you've watched a few crappy movies, is quite hilarious to me.

Perhaps we should use the American media view of Indians whereby we are all clerks at a convenience store (like Apu on The Simpsons), or brainiac nerds like Raj on The Big Bang Theory, which of course doesn't explain why there are these other three brainiac white nerds on that show, if we must talk about color.

Or maybe that guy who played Kumar in those awful, but still funny Harold and Kumar flicks, or maybe that Bug guy on Crossing Jordan

Or, maybe we talk about all of the white guys who play Indian dudes in movies… like Ben Kingsley as Ghandi or that dude in Short Circuit? Yeah, I know that somewhere in his past Kingsley has some Indian blood - probably that's why he's arrogant and unfriendly.

One of my best bud's is a white guy who drives a taxi… not an arrogant and unfriendly brown guy. Who knew that there were white taxi drivers? Stereotype! Thank god, he's not brown... we wouldn't want the smell of curry from some rag head to upset people's delicate constitutions as they are being shuttled drunk from one bar to the next.

Regarding the commentator... he or she sees arrogance and unfriendliness from successful Indians in the U.S. Man or Woman... stop hanging out at those places. If you are talking about people you work with, well, not being an overly successful brown guy living in Canda, I'll defer to your knowledge on such topics.

But come on.. just because you are either too lazy or too ignorant to understand the nuances of the written English word as presented in my blogs, it's no reason to denounce an entire race anonymously.

Look… have an opinion, all you like… you'll note I haven't removed it from the blog. I don't give a sh!t.

Keep the language clean, but it would be nice if you could actually comment about the points in the article, maybe WHY you were looking for this topic (you don't just accidentally find this topic via Google, unless directed here by some other strange blog or website - and then... why would you want to read it, especially if it's being written by a guy you think is Indian. I'm Canadian, chickie-poo. Perhaps you should slam all Canadians, because my social upbringing was formed in Canda! Wahoo! Everybody get cancer and smoke weed! Yeah! Every night is hockey night! We love the fact that we get more snow in Toronto than in Buffalo and Minneapolis! We love the fact that women in Toronto are legally allowed to go topless!!! Yeah - healthcare that doesn't bankrupt people, because we put people before dollars! Yeah, let's go burn down the White House again like we did 200 years ago! Crap... can we have our Stanley Cup back, because nothing says hockey better than a team from Los Angeles winning it. Anaheim, not excepted. Wahoo! Canadians!)… but unless you want to sign your real name - and why wouldn't you? What have you got to be afraid of? - please keep your racist comments and thoughts to yourself.

Do you know what I hate?

Illogical logic.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

McDonald's Happy Meal Toys Not Always As Advertised

Do you know what I hate?

I hate that McDonald's Happy Meal toys are not always as advertised - like the toy in the photo above that is still being given away 18 months after it was first released.

I really, really hate the hit or miss aspect of the Happy Meal toys at McDonald's.

Now... let me get this out of the way... I enjoy eating the McDonald's menu here in Toronto, Canada.

I am aware that by living in Toronto, I may not be privy to such awesome golden arches fare as Japan's teriyaki burger (which is quite good - I lived in Japan for three years - read my blog about my adventures: HERE), but the rather plain-jane food I do get is good.

I can almost hear the collective gasps and sucking in of air between the teeth, as I admit to such horrendous admissions of horror.

Yeah, yeah... I don't even care what animal I'm eating, all I know is that I like the food. Although I am always a little confused when I find out that the McRib is coming back for a short period of time, as I had always believed that the animal flesh it was carved from had long since been extinct.

Strangely enough, I actually want to go to McDonald's more than my eight-year-old son, Hudson, and while he enjoys his Happy Meal, he is becoming more and more disillusioned with the great big upside down dubba-ya, as apparently not all McDonald's restaurants are created equal.

For example, while I could go on and on about various deficiencies at any particular fast food chain, the McD's in Toronto, on Dundas just west of Kipling is the one closest to me... and while I have noticed some improvement, with the manager tossing out food that was waiting too long for its companion foods (still shouldn't happen, as that costs money), the shop seems to be getting worse and worse in the way it works with children... who should be the lifesblood of its once and future kingdom.

By that, I mean... the Happy Meal, and more specifically, the Happy Meal 'toy'.

Once up on a time it came in a paperboard box - and sometimes it does - and sometimes it doesn't - and it had games and cut-outs and things to amuse the children. Sometimes it comes in a Happy meal paper bag, and there are fewer things to play with and nothing to push-out... and then it comes in the regular no-fun, non-Happy Meal paper bag.

And then there's the kid's toy.

On national television, McDonald's cheekily advertises it's kid's Happy Meal and brazenly proclaims to the clamoring rabble that "xxx" toys are available for the girls, and "yyy" toys are available for the boys... but when you finally give in to the annoying anthill mob and take the kids to McDonald's and order the Happy Meal, and are asked to verify if the meal is for a boy or a girl... rather than receive one of the six advertised toys (and I checked the availability dates), we instead get a toy, oh... let's say SpongeBob SquarePants... that the company first began giving away back in the summer of 2012.

It was a toy giveaway for SpongeBob, yes, but also for the 2012 Summer Olympics! It's 2014 and the Winter Olympics are on! Why am I still receiving this bullcrap toy??!!  

And they continue to give them away at this restaurant because ordering in a butt-load of kid's toys once in 2012 is a whole lot easier than ordering in the latest kid's toys in smaller amounts every few weeks... because who needs to make kid's happy when all you need to do is provide convenient food in a timely manner - sometimes making people (like me) wait over 10 minutes for a kid's Happy Meal (hamburger, fries, yogurt, chocolate milk), a Big Mac sandwich, and a Angus Burger (bacon & cheese) meal (with a Coke)... having to make the Happy Meal twice because it was sitting out on the counter (not even under a heat lamp)...

... and while the manager did say sorry for the wait (thank-you), there was no "thank-you and here's a coupon for a free small fries for your next visit" - which ensures that there will be a next and then having to go home and discover that the kid's toy is from the 2012 Summer Olympics SpongeBob SquarePants set of 16.

A set of 16? The Olympics were on for what 21 days? Do they expect parents to take their kids to McDonald's 16 times to get the whole set?

If I do that, my kid will never make an Olympic team!

What is even more sad is that the 2014 Winter Olympics are on now. What the hell do we want with a kayaking summer Olympic toy in February of 2014? We don't.

My kid is so disgusted. We have agreed to never go to that McDonald's again, and will gladly drive the extra distance to a McDonald's that actually offers the toy that is being advertised nationally.

Again... I am aware that McDonald's is franchised... but the head office needs to get a better grip on some of its representatives.

I am tired - and so is my son - of receiving crap.

I am aware that you - McDonald's - state that the toys are at participating McDonald's in teeny-tiny letters on your television adverts, but that is still not good enough.


It is still the illegal practice of "bait and switch", and it sucks.

You don't even want to know how many times my kid has been stuck with one of these LEFTOVER toys - and they are leftovers! - the money I've wasted because he wants a particular toy, only to discover we;ve been ripped off again... or it it still... whatever.

I guess not all McDonald's restaurants are not created equally. 

Hey - I know you give out good toys with the happy meal, like the Batman glasses:
I look like I'm constipated, but these McDonald's Batman glasses are dynamic.
... and the new LEGO Movie lenticular cups such as this that change images:
All cats are evil.
But... that's because I can't trust the McDonald's near me to get my order correct, get it to me in a timely fashion, or to provide my kid with a truly happy meal.

Because... let me tell you... there is nothing worse for a parent than having to placate an upset kid who was supposed to get a Happy Meal and a toy he saw advertised on television. If you can't trust television...

For the record... I like the McDonald's at Bloor and Markland in west Etobicoke. They never screw around with a kid's happiness re: toys.

Do you know what I hate?

I hate that McDonald's Happy Meal toys are not always as advertised.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Getting Older

Do you know what I hate?

I hate getting older.

Sure the alternative is that I stop getting older because I am dead, but all told, the pain-in-the-ass little things that accompany wisdom with age are annoying.

In my 30s I began to go grey. When I was 40, I cut my pony-tail - grown for the last time - off.

I did it for two reasons:

One - because I was 40 and not George Carlin.

Two - because I had developed grey in my long curly and wavy tresses (it was half-way down my back). Now grey I could handle (maybe)... but this was a long patch of 22-inch-long white grey hair that went straight down the middle of my long hair.

I looked like a chocolate version of Pepe LePew...

So I cut off those wonderful tresses… have you ever seen the Wizard of Oz movie - the original…. you know what the cowardly lion looked like? That was my hair. I was beautiful in a masculine sort of way.

Man... I was the king of the forest.

Put'em-up, old age… I'll fight you with one paw behind my back.

Ugh... I'm going broke buying boxes of Just For Men.

In my 20s and early 30s, I often grew a French-cut beard in a few days - and looked pretty good in it… but then the grey hairs started popping up on my face. And now I won't grow a beard again. Too much salt and not enough pepper.


And now it's grey hairs in my nose! WTF is that? Why is it wiry? Why does it grow so fast? Why is it clustering right near the front? I also have to trim the nose hairs nearly daily or I'll go completely feral!

My eyebrows… who would have thought it… I really have to pay attention to my eyebrows… the frigging things want to start growing all over the place like an unkempt Russian garden. So I get out the weed whacker and deal with it.

At least I have always plucked the few odd hairs to ensure I had two eyebrows. Those don't seem to be growing as much anymore.

But… I have also noticed that my hairline is receding…. and why is there a single ultra fine blonde hair growing out of the middle of my forehead?!

I've slept with many a blonde honey, but have never, myself, been a blonde before. Also… I'm pretty sure my hairline was never that low. Caveman yes, low hairline like that - never!

And why is that single hair suddenly four inches long?! I searched for it yesterday and it wasn't there - but it's there today!

And is my hair thinning at the back?! Oh crap! It is! Why is my hair thinning back there?

Why is there hair growing out of my ears? I'm plucking those bastards all the time! And shaving the fuzz on the lobes!

Thankfully I'll never know if I'm going grey down... there.

But dammit… my chest is going grey. And are those grey hairs on my arm?! I have to pluck them, too!

And I don't even want to know what's going on on my back!

Okay… enough of the hair brained comments…even though I have always been particularly vain about my hair. It was the one vanity I had that I would admit to.

How come I'm suddenly a size 11-1/2 shoe? I was a 10-1/2 until two years ago! And now I also have an extra wide foot? What the hell? I used to have the perfect foot-long foot… now it's bigger! And wider. Oh well… at least I won't tip over anytime soon.

And… a big foot means a larger wang, right? Let me check. Nope… it's not growing. Dammit. I probably shouldn't have checked that here at work.

Growing older, I find that I grunt as I sit down and grunt as I get up. It's not a strenuous activity, so why I am doing it?

I tore my meniscus (fibrous cartilage in my knee) two years ago doing Tae Kwon Do. Thank god it was something macho like that.

I tore it when I was stretching my quad muscles… kneeling and then leaning backwards. When I was younger… even as little as 10 years ago… I could lie all the way back and place my back flat on the ground with my legs under me. Years of soccer and years of cardio and weight training at the gym were also part of my routine… granted… I hadn't been part of a serious training regimen since 1999…but even as I lay vertically declined and pushed weights in the 700-pound range and higher, I always joked that the muscles would never fail me, but my knees would.

Who knew that I was Nostradamus the Second. Not I, apparently, or I would never have abused my knees that much.

This time - pop goes the meniscus, and now I have something that needed an X-Ray, and MRI and a CT Scan to diagnose. The good news? I don't need an operation because it's only a Level 2 tear. The bad news? It never heals. It hurts when I run or kick a soccer ball or climb the stairs or cross my legs for too long… I can only make it worse, get to a Level 3, have an operation and not have it feel any better because the arthritis pain that started after I hurt it, will always be there.

On the plus side, I'm teaching myself to kick a ball with my left foot... but planting that right leg to properly strike it is a bugger.

I've already had my first kidney stone. High cholesterol? Sleep apnea? Need to cut down on sugar…

Oh - how the mighty have fallen.

In my late 20s and 30s, women used to chase me for dates... and now... even if I caught fire at work I don't think a woman would stop to even spit on me a little.   

I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror… which is okay, because….

This past February through April… my vision went south and now I was told I needed to wear glasses… on top of my contact lenses when I want to read a book or write - which sucks considering I'm a writer and voracious reader.

And why do I hate so many things? Have I become a grumpy old man? The only positive is that I haven't been grumpy enough to write a blog here in five months - but my buddy Christian at the Toronto west LEGO store kind of urged me to write one this past Monday... so this one is for you!

Is this middle age? Will I live to be 100? No? Then I'm long past middle age! That sucks even more, now that I have actually written it.

On the plus side… I still have my health. Riiiii-iiight.

Do you know what I hate?

I hate getting older.

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Being Ripped Off By Publishers

Do you know what I hate?

It's being ripped off by book and  magazine publishers.

This is all about price.

Recently, I purchased a collection of Japanese manga (comic book) stories called Naruto.

It was a collection in book form of previously published material from a Japanese magazine called Shonen Jump.

To be honest, the brand name is unimportant, or where it is from - this is a global rant.

Anyhow, after I bought the book and finished reading it over a couple of days, I noticed the price, or should I say prices, on the back of the book.

It was $9.99 in Canadian currency.

But, only $7.95 in U.S. dollars.

What the hell? Or, if you prefer, WTF?

In case you are unaware, the Canadian and U.S. currencies having been trading at or around par for quite some time now. Like since 2007.

So, why am I forced to pay an extra $2.04 for a book available cheaper in the U.S.?

At first I thought - well... maybe this book was printed before 2007.

Well, the original material was first printed in 1999 in Japan. but, the first edition of the collected works in English was printed in 2003.

That explains it, right? Wrong. My copy is the 23rd printing from April 2010. If Canada and the U.S. weren't at par at the time, we had a stronger dollar than the U.S.

So why am I being asked to pay more?

For years, back in the 1980s and 1990s - when Canada's dollar sucked when compared to the US, people like myself who collected comic books often had obscene exchange rates imposed on us by Marvel Comics and DC Comics.

While the difference per dollar may have been about $0.30 in exchange, these publishers, and others, often were asking for 40 cents more on the dollar.

It got so that I couldn't afford my hobby, and I was forced to choose which books I really, really wanted to read and began cutting back on what I purchased.  But what did it matter - the publishers still got my money - and more. But that also meant some books lost a reader. And probably a lot more than just me.

It's either pure and simple greed, or publishers are too cheap to pay for a new cover to the magazine or book, as that means higher printing press rates.

So... instead, you cheap bastards make the consumer pay.

And you are right... if I don't like it, I don't have to purchase your product.

After 40 years, I stopped collecting comic books. I have close to 40,000 comic books. Some old, some rare, some shrewdly purchased, and some bought new from the comic stores.

And books from book stores? How's business folks? People still reading a lot? Or is there a reason why you also sell coffee there and offer free wi-fi? Is there a reason you also sell toys like LEGO there? It's a book store. Books. Paper.

I prefer to purchase used books because I am tired of being ripped off by publishers. Which is sad, you know, because as a writer, the last thing I would want to do is hurt another writer.

But your narrow-mindedness is causing me to call a halt to the purchase of new books, too. And I hate doing that.

Now... I know major book seller Indigo (here in Canada) is also concerned about the outrageous price difference regarding Canadian and US currencies... it offers discounts on the larger, more expensive books and proffers on-line deals... but I don't care... most of the books I purchase are simple paperbacks... mysteries, comedies... books that aren't affected by their deep discounts.

I don't blame Indigo... at least they are doing something, when really, they don't have to.

But... we all know where the real problem lies, don't we? The place where everyone is concerned that print is dead... that no one is buying books anymore because no one is reading.

You're shooting yourselves in the proverbial foot.

Do you know what I hate?

I hate being ripped off by publishers.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Walking Behind Women In Shopping Malls

Do you know what I hate?

It's walking behind women in shopping malls.

Do you see that photo above? I'm at the very back of that line, I'm hungry, and this is my daily nightmare.

Now hopefully that 'woman' crack wasn't too sexist a comment. It's an observation thought of every day as I walk through a busy shopping mall at lunch time searching for food or LEGO or Easter eggs or hair color (I'll deny it if directly asked).

I'm a quick walker, but I also have my wits about me. That means I observe when there are idiots on their cell phones ambling along the pathways like drunks on a bender, or small children walking without their parent's guiding hand ambling beside me so I can avoid them.

I purposely walk about 1-1/2 meters away from the store entrances/exits because people (women) frequently come barreling out of the stores without a care for what is walking in front of them.

I don't want to take anybody out with my 200-pound-plus frame and superior walking power. Despite body fat, I have a lot of muscle. I also have a purpose, and I know what it is when I enter any mall.

So I am observant.

I swerve out of the way of the children, incessant phone talkers, those people who walk slowly four abreast oblivious to the fact that there are other people in the mall.

And sometimes... I am forced to walk behind women. It happens every day I am in a shopping mall.

Normally - especially in the summer when the clothing is shorter - I enjoy walking behind women. I don't dawdle or ogle, but I look and admire briefly, with just the right amount of testosterone and intelligence so as not to be obscene.

I observe, because that is what I do. I look and I learn.

But despite my appreciation of the female form in all its glories, as mentioned, I really do hate walking behind women at shopping malls.

Why? Because women at shopping malls, whether alone or with a gaggle of other women like to stop suddenly in the midst of their walking.

Oh! There's something to look at! A sale on something I don't need or want! But it's on sale, so I'll actually be saving money!

Because I am ever vigilant, I am able to quickly side-step these bouncing Betty's, but it's still annoying. I'm getting older and pretty soon I won't be able to dodge my balls quickly enough to get out of your apparent right of passage.

I'm not saying I have the right of way - I don't. This is a shared information superhighway.

I am observant. I am wary of where I am and that there are other people in the mall - why can't they? Why do I have to avoid other people? I'm the faster and heavier vehicle on the road. I will run you down and you will possibly get hurt. I don't want to do that. You don't want me to do that. So why do you put yourself in possible harm's way?

It's like driving and being aware of your surroundings. I'm a damn good driver who no longer speeds. I've never smashed into anyone - but that's because I provide myself with enough time and space to react properly.

I expect other drivers to do the same, and to a large extent both male and female drivers do just that.

But at the mall, all bets are off.

So I have to dash to a side to avoid rear ending these women, which only sounds a lot more interesting and fun than what it really is.

It keeps me on my toes, but it's hardly fun for me.

If more people were aware of their surroundings and actually gave a rat's ass about other people, fewer people would get hurt or become an annoyance.

Why should I have to look out for your well-being as well as my own? It's not fair and I hate having to be responsible for everyone when all I want is to get rid of my grey (I'm not going grey!).

Kids, the elderly, pregnant women, women with strollers - whatever. That's cool.

I know it's rough, and I have no truck with you. But when I walked the malls with my son in his stroller, I was always aware of where we were. I didn't want him to get hurt.

And I don't want to hurt anyone... but can you give me a break, please?

Yeah, yeah... women like to shop while men go to malls to purchase. No problem. Just be aware.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
(Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5)

Do you know what I hate?

It's walking behind women in shopping malls.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Easily Solvable U.S. TV Police Dramas

Do you know what I hate?

Easily solvable U.S. TV police dramas.

There is nothing worse than sitting down for what one supposes is a police drama - well, written, well-acted and thought-provoking only to have it spoiled early on in the broadcast.

If that seems like a paradox, it's not.

What spoils it for me is how often a whodunnit is solved because of who has been cast in the show.

Maybe I'm going to spoil it for you, too, but if you are watching a police drama, check out the actors.

I don't mean the usual cast, rather I'm talking about the special guest stars.

As soon as you see a well-known actor appear in a role longer than a cameo, you know who did it.

No well-known actor worth his salt is going to be hired to play a minor role. No! They are being hired to play a major role. And... 9 times out of 10, that person is the criminal.

Don't believe me - check it out. Everything from CSI, to Law & Order and all points in-between.

It's ridiculous.

Perfectly well-written and acted shows ruined by the casting director.

Hunh. Maybe I should say I hate casting directors.

If you to find that this fatal flaw in casting to be true, might I suggest you watch a British cop drama - all over PBS on Masterpiece Theatre and others. DCI Banks, Midsomer Murders, Frost, Lewis, Inspector Morse, Cracker, Lovejoy... shows I suggest because unless you live in the United Kingdom, you probably don't know these actors or guest stars and as such, there will be no clue as to who actually did it.

As an aside, I believe only Midsomer Murders actually has proper sound pick-ups. I find I have to crank the volume up quite high on all the other shows, as their outdoor sound quality is appalling.

Do you know what I hate?
     
Easily solvable U.S. TV police dramas.