I'm not smart enough to be a woman. Part One.

Second only to my forthcoming bestseller, "Cats and Dogs, an Explanation of the Differences between Men and Women", my new friend Mark Gungor explains it best. 

Women are superior. 

One more thing I wish I'd said

Before we got married, my wife and I attended a course on marriage.

The teacher was a very interesting guy named Billy Grammer.

At the first class, we quickly figured out he was going to be deep.

Billy shared this point of view:

"The basic structure of  the universe is one of paradox or dialectic, which is the phenomenon  of two interacting forces, each of which find their meaning in the context  of the other (male/female, talker/listener, maximizer/minimizer, spender/saver,  etc.). On the surface there are two opposite polarities, each apparently contradicting the other, but what is found on a deeper level is the truth that both polarities are needed to express a greater truth and a greater reality. The tension that exists between these polarities is the drive mechanism for personal growth. The great temptation is to eradicate one side of the polarity so as to bring instant ‘relief’ from the tension generated by the two opposites. The point is this:  God has designed the universe with this built-in tension so as to push us toward the journey of growth (death and resurrection). We, in turn, are very reluctant to grow and wish to constantly get out of this tension so that we don’t have to grow. The truth is that every relationship we participate in forces us to face this dilemma."


It was at that moment I heard one of the funniest statements ever uttered.


A friend of 25 years in the class said,  "Oh, that explains it.  I'm not smart enough to be married."

I still laugh out loud when I think of him saying it with perfect pitch, perfect timing, and just enough volume to let all that needed to hear it, hear it. 


And it wasn't just that it's funny, it's probably true.  At least for me.  But I muddle thru anyway.

When's the last time you and your betrothed discussed the dialectic?  Or your polarity?

And now that I think of it, there's alot of things I'm probably not smart enough to be.  

Hmm, more to ponder.

Why are we so entrusting of a man with an aborted lamb fetus for a hat?

Hamid Friggin' Karzai.

Quaraqul hat.

Technicolor robe.

Nehru shirt.

Heart as black as Newgate's knocker.

But we western fools have propped him up as the titular head of Afghanistan. Cause he looked good. Heck, he was on Esquire's 2007 list of 10 best dressed men in the world.

Unto him we will entrust what the men and women of our militaries and information services have worked for, been wounded for, died for.

Hamid can't control his own brother, much less Afghanistan.

Hamid has already figured out life without NATO.

His ass will be grass when he can't hide behind our ACUs anymore.

So, he's made clear his allegiance to Pakistan over the United States.

He's making entreaties to those nice folks over at the Taliban offices.

Such as this sweet example of justice.

A 19 year old Afghan woman was recently raped. And impregnated by her rapist. For her troubles, she was thrown in prison for adultery. See, under the Talib way of thinking, it's her fault.

Oh, but wait. Old Hamid has stepped in to rectify this.

All this woman needs to do is agree to marry the man that raped her, and she will be pardoned.

And to this bastard, we are going to hand over security gains we've made against the Taliban and al Qaeda in that lawless land and entrust him with maintaining.

We will deserve it when the next 9/11 happens.

The awesome, queer, niggardly irony

One day soon, we are going to run out of words.

We so misuse, overuse, abuse and infuse our language. Many great words can’t be used because their real meaning has been lost.

“That is awesome, man. My car is awesome. My team is awesome. My new phone is TOTALLY awesome .”

Really? Awe is an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, fear, etc., produced by that which is grand, sublime, extremely powerful, or the like: in awe of God; in awe of great political figures.

Your crap isn’t awesome. You might well like it, but awesome it ain’t.

For clarification, try this. Churchill is to awesome as Obama is to underwhelming.

Once upon a time, queer meant odd. Unusual. Out of alignment. It was a great word to describe something that seemed out of whack. “That’s a queer little house in the midst of these mansions.”

At some time a century or so ago, the word queer was used to describe homosexual men. In a derogatory way. Eventually, queer became a common slang term used in a negative connotation by heterosexuals. Queer became a way to put down someone who clearly wasn’t homosexual. “Oh, quit being a queer.”

Then, the word queer was adopted by homosexuals of all types as their own moniker. Like the television show Queer as Folk.

And now, maybe queer is bad again. I think it may have been replaced by gay. Which is misappropriating another perfectly good word. Do any of us now sing, “Don we now our gay apparel” and not have visions of Carson Kressley in our head? And thinking of that verse, when’s the last time you donned something?

So can I use queer or gay anywhere without causing a ruckus?

It’s become almost as difficult as the word black.

For example. Several years ago, in a mind numbing governmental meeting of the Dallas County Commissioners, there was a discussion of issues related to collecting unpaid traffic tickets. Commissioner Kenneth Mayfield stated, “It sounds like Central Collections has become a black hole.” Seems like a cynical, sad, true statement of missing money at a government agency.

But, no. Dallas County Commissioner John Wiley Price and other Dallas County officials said that Commissioner Mayfield had just uttered a racist statement and demanded an apology.

You see. Commissioner Mayfield is, er, white. Or flesh. Or Anglo American. Or Northern European American. Or a honky. I don’t know, but you get the point.

And the offended county officials were, well, black. Or Negroid. Or colored. Or brown. Or African American. Or Caribbean American. Anyway, they were offended.

That event took place about the same time that I and my son Zac got a great English lesson.

Zac was in the sixth grade at an upscale private school in Dallas. And one fine week, his English teacher handed out their spelling words. And on that list was the word niggardly.

Some quick background. Zac’s two best friends from the time he was old enough to walk until they moved away during elementary school years were twin brothers who lived across the street from us. Cody and Cory Hill. And they had a different skin color than Zac. Thankfully, not one of them ever thought anything was different about any of them. They were just kids.

When he transferred from public school to this private school in the sixth grade, Zac made a new best friend. His name was Chris. And Chris had the same color skin as Cody and Cory. Which was a different color than Zac’s. And Chris was one of about three kids in the whole school whose skin color was different than Zac’s.

Chris and Zac made each other laugh constantly. They could make eye contact and crack up.

And so when the teacher of English handed out the words of the week, Chris looked at Zac. And they both started laughing. And tears rolled down their 11 year old cheeks from trying not to wizz in their pants. Because they saw the irony in the situation.

And Zac got hauled to the principal’s office. Because the teacher assumed wrongly that Zac was misappropriating the word niggardly. And I got called to the principal’s office. And despite my protestations, Zac was suspended for a day for being racially insensitive.

From then on, I was niggardly with my donations to that school.

Oh, how ironic. Or was that coincidental? Or paradoxical? Or bad luck? Or, just plain dumb?

The Magic Playhouse

This is so cool.

Can't find it on the internet.

Not at any Black Friday sale.

If you can find one, you are extremely lucky.

It's called The Magic Playhouse.

You can crawl into this thing and you are transported.

One section is called The Dream Lair.

These are the directions on the outside:

"If you enter, make sure you make a wish because your dream will come true."

And then this:

"Star Light,
Star Bright.
First Star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might
Have this wish
I wish tonight.

-Read this when you make your wish"


Inside The Dream Lair there is a very tranquil room with lots of tiny lights that poke thru the ceiling. You can lay on your back and imagine they are the stars. It is amazing how free, and warm, and safe, and fun it is. You can imagine almost anything in there, and it comes true.

On the other side of The Magic Playhouse is The Color Dome. Here, there are no rules other than to have fun. And have fun with color. Crayons. Pens. Markers. Chalk. Colored duct tape.

You can color the floor, walls and ceiling. Anything you want! And no grown ups can or will be upset!

There is a skylight and a window to allow enough light in so you can see all the colors.

Boys love it. They imagine forts. And race cars. And spaceships.

But girls really love it. It's where we can talk to our best friend and imagine what the world will be like and then it becomes real.

Grown ups just don't get it. Which is what makes it so awesome.

And best of all, you can't buy it. And each one is totally unique.

The one we just got is starting to wear out. Boys just don't take good care of things. Is there anyplace where they don't like to wrestle?

If I'm lucky, the next one will be even bigger. My daddy says there is a store that sells refrigerators nearby and they have really big boxes.

A Day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our Almighty Father

By the President of the United States of America.

A Proclamation.

The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God. In the midst of a civil war of unequaled magnitude and severity, which has sometimes seemed to foreign States to invite and to provoke their aggression, peace has been preserved with all nations, order has been maintained, the laws have been respected and obeyed, and harmony has prevailed everywhere except in the theatre of military conflict; while that theatre has been greatly contracted by the advancing armies and navies of the Union. Needful diversions of wealth and of strength from the fields of peaceful industry to the national defence, have not arrested the plough, the shuttle or the ship; the axe has enlarged the borders of our settlements, and the mines, as well of iron and coal as of the precious metals, have yielded even more abundantly than heretofore. Population has steadily increased, notwithstanding the waste that has been made in the camp, the siege and the battle-field; and the country, rejoicing in the consiousness of augmented strength and vigor, is permitted to expect continuance of years with large increase of freedom. No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens. And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him for such singular deliverances and blessings, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to His tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with the Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquillity and Union.

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the Seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this Third day of October, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and of the Independence of the Unites States the Eighty-eighth.

By the President: Abraham Lincoln

Sentient Beings

I was expecting the letter.

Although we had not anticipated any issue with the fire community about the TV commercial, we had spent considerable time talking about the parakeet. (If this blog makes no sense, please read the entry from a few days ago called, "When the air is on fire")

We expected some nutjob would protest that the man might have saved his pants before he saved the bird. Even though the bird is shown safe and sound at the end of the spot.

So, when an envelope from the good folks at P.E.T.A. showed up on my desk, I was ready.

Love 'em or hate 'em, you have to hand it to the folks in that ugly little building in Norfolk, Virginia. They know how to get noticed. They know how to use the media. They have a strategy and they execute it.

One of their ways of creating a ruckus is their annual bad behavior awards. The mainstream media just love to cover them.

Their modus operandi is to review advertising that depict animals in any way. They then determine whether or not in their estimation it is a positive or a negative depiction. If it is negative, they then send a "threatening" letter to the advertiser stating that said company and agency risks getting a Litterbox award if they don't stop running said ad. So if you don't bow to their threat, they get you. If you do bow to their threat, they also get you by announcing your willingness to negotiate with terrorists.

I already had my response letter written in my head. Not only had we saved the parakeet, we had already pulled the commercial so as to be kind to humans! And we had done it BEFORE we ever heard from P.E.T.A.

Their letter started as expected. Yep, we risked being on P.E.T.A.'s naughty list.

But then I was thrilled when I read what had them upset.

It wasn't about the parakeet at all.

We had offended cats.

In a magazine ad directed at young men, we had written something to the effect of, "The only bad thing about having a girlfriend is having to allow her cat to sit on your khakis."

The folks at P.E.T.A. said that cats were "sentient beings". Our ad had the potential to cause many a cat hurt feelings.

I still remember the note back to them. We explained that we had tried to focus group the ad with cats, but they showed total disinterest.

And we made a commitment. No more cat jokes, on one condition.

P.E.T.A. had to show us at least one cat that could read.

Still waiting on their response.