Minor Rant

I have Verizon as my ISP. Why do they think it’s okay to put advertisements in the web mail feature of my account? I’m paying for this service! Why should I be forced to endure ads on a feature I’m already paying for?

… end of rant …

Starbucks

I love Starbucks. I really do. The best drink in existence is a Starbucks Venti® Latte with 3 shots of espresso (notice the correct spelling of the word “espresso” – it’s not eXpresso people! C’mon, get it right!).

However, I do have a little complaint about the drive-thru at Starbucks. Their opening greeting sucks.

A typical conversation at any other drive-thru goes something like this:

“Welcome to (Fill-In-The-Blank-Restaurant), may I take your order please?”

“Yes, I’d like a…”

Not at Starbucks. Oh no. Here’s what you get there:

“Thank you for choosing Starbucks, my name is Bambi. How are you doing today?”

“Uh. Er. Um. Ok, I guess.”

Followed by an uncomfortable silence that stretches on for several seconds.

Why are they asking how I’m doing? Do they know me? They obviously don’t care about the answer to the question, judging by the long uncomfortable silence. I wonder how they’d react if I told them I was dying of some rare incurable disease, but if I could just get a decent Frappuccino® I could pull through. Why ask a question if you’re not really interested in the answer? And if you’re not interested in the answer, for heaven’s sake ask me a question that you really are interested in, like what would I like to drink!

Sorry. It’s early and I haven’t had my latte yet.

Perky People People!

Is it just me, or are overly perky people annoying as hell? I’m not talking about people that are generally in a good mood most of the time, I’m talking about people that are so excited about being alive that they look like they’re about to explode.

I met one of these people the other day. One of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet, so I’m really going to feel guilty after posting this. The problem was that every little thing was incredibly wonderful to her (regardless of how boring and mundane it really was), and she had to exclaim about it.

“Oh my gosh! Is that your computer? That’s so cool!”

“Oh wow! Look at your Darth Vader collection!”

“Oh! That’s awesome! Look! Cool! Sweet!”

It’s like she had just woken up from a 100 year slumber that morning and was experiencing life for the first time all over again.

I run into people like this from time-to-time – though they’re rarely over the age of 12 – and they just exhaust me. And after the other day I got to thinking about it, and at first I wondered how anyone could be that “up,” but then I had this epiphany. Maybe, just maybe, the reason they act like they just popped into existance this morning is because they all suffer from short term memory loss. Maybe they’re just like that guy from the movie Memento – only without the driving need to solve the grizzly murder of they’re spouses – and they don’t remember from one day to the next that the previous day sucked. It would explain so much!

It would certainly explain why, when I encounter these types of people more than once, they always seem happy to see me.

The End Of The World As We Know It

I know that this is a humor blog, so I apologize in advance if you came here for a good laugh. You’re not going to get that today. Today I am sad. I am sad because, for the last three or four days, the big news has been that J.K. Rowling revealed that Dumbledore – Harry Potter’s wise and gentle mentor, and headmaster of Hogwarts – was gay. No, I am not saddened by this revelation. I am saddened that this is considered news. I am particularly saddened by the reaction of some who profess to be followers of Jesus Christ – as predictable as those reactions were. Did you know that every day 16,000 children die of starvation? Why isn’t that news? Where is the moral outrage over that? Maybe it’s time we re-read Matthew 25:31-46. That whole, “love your neighbor as yourself” thing is kind of important – at least it was to Jesus. Maybe we should be focusing on banning hunger before we ban books.

Just a thought.

Back to School Night of the Living Dead

Seriously. What’s the point of Back to School Night? I mean, I know what it’s supposed to be about, but it never really seems to achieve any of its goals.

• Parents are introduced to the faculty – A good idea, but in the context of Back to School Night, an impossible goal to achieve. Anyone who’s ever been to one of these things knows that it’s so crowded and noisy, and the school’s P.A. system is so bad, that if you don’t sit in the first four rows, all you are able to hear is, “I woul…mufflemufflemuffle… introdu… mufflemuffle… ipal, Mr. Smi… mufflemuffle.”
• Parents get to show their support for their children’s education – My children know I support their education. If I didn’t support their education, I wouldn’t be doing their homework for them every night.*
• Teachers get to meet parents and talk about their plans for the year – This only works in an elementary school environment. If the students have several different teachers, each one is only alloted 10 minutes to sum up their entire academic plan of action, and half of that time is spent getting parents in to the classrooms. And “meeting” parents? Forget it. Oh, sure they shake your hand and introduce themselves, but if you were to meet them on the street the next morning they wouldn’t know you from Adam. Not that I blame them. They’ve got over a hundred parents to meet.

This year my youngest daughter entered Jr. High Schoo… er… excuse me, I’ve been told that the new politically correct term is Middle School (though I don’t know what people find offensive about the word “Junior”). Her Back to School Night was on Wednesday, and since her mother was busy with prior obligations I took her (we usually go together). Something hit me that night, as we sat listening to her science teacher talk as fast as she could. I’m older than half of my daughter’s teachers this year! And in some cases, a lot older. Her science teacher, for instance, looks like she just graduated from High School. It was an odd feeling, because up until this point, I’ve always considered teachers to be older and wiser than me. That’s why they’re teachers. I suppose, with my wife being a kindergarten teacher and everything, I shouldn’t feel that way. I guess I did and just didn’t realize it. It was weird. I almost wanted to jump up and say, “Hey! You’re just a little kid. You can’t teach my child!” I resisted the urge, but it was there. So, I guess one of the purposes of Back to School Night this year was to contribute to my midlife crisis. Thanks Back to School Night.

As we walked home that night (we only live about 3 blocks from the school and I couldn’t see a reason to waste the gas), my daughter babbled on and on about nothing-in-particular. “I know. I’m talking too much and not making any sense.” She told me. “I do that when I don’t have much to say.” No, I thought, you’re my quiet one. You only babble like this when you’re excited about something. I doubted that it was Back to School Night, since she had looked as bored as I was through the whole thing. Then it hit me. She’s happy to be spending time with me! My eyes started to fill with sentimental tears.

That’s when the zombies attacked…

*If any of my children’s teachers are reading this… I was just kidding about the “doing their homework for them” thing. Really.