Janky Holidays, and Date-Ending One-Liners

Part I: Janky-Ass Holidays

The 4th of July is upon us. Now, I realize that The House of Un-American Activities is going to be all over me for saying this, but... I don't really like the 4^th of July. Or to be more accurate, I find it boring. "Forth of July"? "More like Bore-th of July." Heh.

But what about our Forefathers?
Yes, I know.

But what about our nation declaring its sovereignty?
Yes, I know.

But what about the slaves being set free?
You're confused and you need to go back to school.

So, why is this holiday met with such indifference from me? Don't I like barbecues? Don't I like not going to work? Aren't I glad I'm not forced to watch cricket and drink tea every afternoon (caffeine makes me jumpy)? Yes, to all the above. So, what's my beef?

1.) Our flag is ugly. Please don't give me a knee-jerk reaction, but stop, take a minute, and look at our flag. Are you looking? Seriously, what the hell is that!? THAT, ladies and gentleman, is bureaucracy embodied. THAT is what happens when art is made by committee. "We should have stars!" "No, we should have stripes!" "Okay, okay, you two..." Yes, it's the symbol of our great country, but you know what? It looks like a fishing lure, and a cheap one at that. You ever notice that when someone wears pants that look like the Brazilian flag, or the Jamaican flag, it actually looks kind of cool? Wear pants that look like the American flag, and you've got the loudest, tackiest duds ever. Well, here's a secret… it's not because it's pants, it's just because it's shaped like pants that you notice, and it's going to be EVERYWHERE on the 4^th.

2.) Our national anthem is not pretty... but to be fair here, most national anthems aren't pretty. If the mute button didn't exist I'd never make it through day one of the Olympics. BUT, where ours goes really awry is that it's damn near impossible to sing! Only the elite singers among us can hit those high notes and actually sound good. Our national anthem is exclusionary by nature, and, on a personal note, the tune bugs me.

3.) And, if I'm to be honest, this is one here is the real kicker for me. This is where I am fully prepared to stand alone, and have the rest of the world judge me. One and Two are hardly factors when stacked up against this one. Are you ready? Okay… here goes… I think Fireworks are lame. Yes, that's right, I said it. You can all moan and wail now, but it's true. Y'know, when I was a kid, they were kind of cool. They're pretty, and they go boom, and stuff. But let's get real here. How far has technology come in the last, say sixty years? You look at a computer from 1950, and you compare that with today's computers... well, there's just no comparison. But look at the fireworks from 1950, and look at them today... yeah... there's really no significant difference. Yes, they've figured out how to make fire in a few new colors. Yes, they can make them explode so that they look kind of like smileys or hearts, but overall, it's still pretty much the same thing. If we expect so much from IBM, why don't we expect as much from the makers of pyrotechnics? I give fireworks a big, "Yawn"... especially if they're far away. People who climb up into hills to see the fireworks that are set off fifteen miles away make no sense to me. I will cheerily flick a bic lighter a foot away of your face and it will be way more exciting. This is where, every 4^th of July, my friends/family and I become divided. They want to go somewhere to see fire works and I would rather… learn to yodel, or really do anything else.

So, that's why I'm a bad American. Today.

In an entirely unrelated story…

Part II: Date-Ending One-Liners

I've been thinking about this all day, and I'm really not sure why, but this is a real story from my real life. Those who know me will not be so surprised; those who don't may be in for a shock. I'm not sure why I'm sharing it, exactly; I suppose I'm hoping that my personal foibles will be your collective merriment. Here goes...

Some years ago, I was on a first date. I don't even know if it can be called a date; it's was like a pre-screen for a date. She'd asked me to come visit her where she was tending bar, and I obliged. I was sitting there, and we were having a nice little conversation. It was going alright. Not amazing yet, but certainly not bad… and then I heard something. A couple stools down from me a woman was talking to her friend and said something to the effect of, "Yeah, so my girl friend and I went to this club…", and I started laughing.

I turned to my date and said, "Why is it that a woman can say, 'My girlfriend and I are going to go shoe-shopping,' and nobody bats an eyelash, but when I say, 'I'll be right back, I'm going to go suck my boyfriend's dick', everybody like, assumes I'm gay?"

Stone. Cold. Silence. And a blank stare to go with it.

It's not everyday where you can pinpoint a single, precise moment where everything went to pieces. This was one of those rare moments.

Now, some of you may look at that as a "What NOT To Do" story… but I'm not so sure. If this girl didn't find that remotely funny, then, clearly, she was not destined to become Mrs. Rose. We would have found that out sooner or later, so didn't I really just save us a whole lot of time?

I think so.

Happy Fourth of July, everybody.

Your assignment this week: Get out there and be somebody!

Love,

BR
7.3.07 1.24am

P.S. While we're out waving our flags and eating our hotdogs tomorrow, let's take a moment to reflect on how Scooter Libby's jail sentense was just commuted by the effing President of our country! Once again, hooray for America... have another hotdog, fatty.