Idle Ramblings of a Slightly Mad Man

People handle grief in many different ways and people like to remember the dead in their own meaningful ways but what I don’t understand is people that will plaster across the rear windshield of their car a memorial with all the information of that individual which should be placed on the headstone, not rear window of a car. 

Driving into work this morning is a Dodge Magnum with a rear window full of what amounts to an obituary.  It was large writing, contained a picture/image of the deceased, birth and death dates and noting that the deseased was a loving cousin, sister, brother, mother, aunt, uncle, neighbor, homeroom mother, scout leader, gang member, father and animal lover.  

It was almost like it was being shoved down my throat that this person had died and I had better recognize!

I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but when something like this is shoved in my face, and no, I really could not avoid it as this vehicle was in front of me in bumper to bumper traffic, but when this is shoved in my face I guess I have to just vent about it. 

If you want people to read about  and remember the dead, place an obit in the newspaper like everyone else.

I was thinking about the one time I traveled and got stranded in the Atlanta airport.  It was a great time if you can believe it.  We made the best of a terrible situation.

I had a flight from Miami to a connection to Atlanta.  I had made the connection in plenty of time but due to thunderstorms rolling up the East Coast, we were delayed.  The gate lady for the airline kept announcing that the flight was delayed and finally after 2 hours sitting at the gate waiting for boarding to begin I met a few people that were also from Philly and getting pissed at all the delays. 

Finally, the pilot came off the plane and I overheard him talking to the gate lady that according to radar, the storms are moving slowly and we are stuck for at least another hour. 

The gate keeper then announced that it was going to be at least an hour before the plane would board and that if we wanted to get something to eat we could but don’t stray far.  So this girl I was talking to and I went to the Wendy’s just 3 gates down and ate some lunch.  When we returned - 45 minutes later - the plane had boarded and taken off.  Without us. 

Needless to say, the girl and I were pissed.  We were not the only ones either.  There were about 5 others that did the same thing as us and went to get a meal.  Then the gate lady stated that we should not have left the gate area.  The group of us of course went nuts.  After much protest, the airline was able to get us all on the next flight - 8 hours later. 

So what was one to do?

The seven of us decided that since we had until 10PM until our next flight, we would make the best of it and we decided to play a game and have at least one drink in every bar in every terminal in the Atlanta airport. 

By the time it was boarding time the seven of us were blasted.  Looking back I am surprised that they even let any of us on.  By this point we were drunk, obnoxious and boisterous. 

The two hour flight home was uneventful but when we arrived in Philly we decided that we should go out some more and hit a few bars around town.  I met a few great people, unfortunately, after that night we never kept in contact with each other.   

We don’t have a song.  Other couples do, but not us.  You usually hear other couples songs at their weddings.  They go out and dance to it and everyone goes “Awwww…..” while I throw up in my mouth.

Last night we were laying in bed and my wife asked me to sing to her our song.  Now she knows damn well we don’t have a song and she is, for some reason, setting me up for an argument when all I want to do is go to sleep.  It is already mid-night and I have to get up early for work but do I get quiet?  No!  I get, “Sing me our song!”

Long story short, the wife and I were friends for the longest time before we became and item.  We were both in long term relationships when we met and became friends and when they fell apart we decided to move in together and then one day we just looked at each other, like two old folks asking each other for sex, and I said “Do you wanna?”

She said, “Do you wanna?”

I said, “Sure, why not”

So we hopped a flight to Vegas and got married.  No big wedding.  No family.  No reception.  Nothing. 

Since we never really dated, we never really had a song.  Besides, I am not a mushy guy that hears a song and thinks wow!  That reminds me of my woman.  *insert eyes rolling here! 

Which leads me back to last night.  Laying in bed, trying to fall asleep when she nails me with her “sing me our song” request.  It was way out of left field and I certainly was not looking for an argument at that moment, but she clearly was. 

What is the big deal of a couple song? Why is it so important for her to all of a sudden, at midnight, to need to have a couple song?  Why is it that stupid stuff like this keeps getting me into trouble? 

This time it is about one of my Compulsions.  When I load the dishwasher I have to have it loaded a certain way.  If it is not, I will take everything all out and then reload it the correct way.  My wife and I have had major arguments over this topic and it has been  really ugly at times. 

My biggest peeve is how the silverware is loaded.  I have to have all the spoons in one section of the silverware basket, all the knifes in another, and all the forks in yet another.  They also have to all be handles down.  This makes it easier to unload too.  Then I can grab a handful of spoons and BAM! they are away.  Grab a fistful of forks and BAM! they are away.  Quick, easy, simple and efficient! 

So last night, my wife approaches me with a huge grin on her face and in her right hand is a rolled up magazine.  I thought that I was about to get hit for something and I get ready to take evasive action when she tosses me the latest Consumers Report. 

She told me to turn to page 41 and read the bottom about loading a Dishwasher.  As I read through it, everything I know about loading is holding true until I get to the last 2 items.   “… mix spoons, forks, and knives to prevent them from sticking together.”  As I get done reading it all I look back up to my wife who starts yelling, “See!  See!  I am not an idiot!  The silverware is supposed to be all mixed up!  You have been complaining and reloading for years for no reason!  Don’t you feel stupid!” 

So I am wrong.  Again.  And I don’t feel stupid about it.  I guess that this is one compulsion that I can scratch off my list and get over.  No more stressing about how the dishwasher is loaded. 

Now about that toilet paper…………………..

I have had time to think about my compulsions lately.  Maybe it is more than thinking, maybe it is more like obsessing over them.  I started a list of the compulsions I have.  As I got to writing these things down I never realized how compulsive I am. 

• When I make a sandwich with lunchmeat and cheese I have to put down the meat on the bread first then cheese.  Cheese never goes first.  But Cheese is always the last.  So this means that on one side the bread, condiment and meat touch and the other side the bread, condiment and cheese touch and yet I have to make the sandwich by laying the meat first.
• When I make peanut butter and jelly, I have to make the sandwich with first the peanut butter and then the jelly.
• When I drop the Browns off at the Superbowl, I have to wipe a minimum of three wipes.  No less no matter how clean the TP looks after the wipe.  (You know you all look too so don’t get all grossed out.)
• When I first enter my hotel room, the first thing I do is to put the shampoo and the conditioner and soap in the shower. 
• When I cut the grass it is always the same pattern and direction. 
• Every Sunday I have to listen to Breakfast with the Beatles.
• In my office at work I have to sit facing the door.  If I am away from my own office and I don’t have my own desk to work at I will find an empty conference room where I can sit at the table facing the door. 
• Dishwasher has to be loaded with cups all in one spot, plates together, spoons in one slot, forks in another, etc…
• When I am in the shower I have to wash my hair first, and then face, then the rest of the body from shoulders to toes. 

 I am sure I have more and just the few I have written so far is enough for all of my regular readers (all 4 of you) to give me hell over. 

I wrote up the below post while on my flight home on Friday.  I got caught up over the weekend with family stuff and never posted it.  I almost was not going to and then I decided I would but edit out the language.  Then I thought that you readers deserved a little insight to the mind of the Mad Man and see how I really felt about what was happening.  So below is the unedited version of my flight back from the West Coast. ……………………..

 Normally I don’t go off on these wild, rage filled rants but God Damn it I am pissed.  Let me go back a few moments to earlier this morning as I was getting ready to fly back home.  Everything was going well this morning, the weather was looking nice from my departure site and my arrival site and I was even the first in line dropping off my rental car.  Life was good up until that point.  Then it all spiraled downhill from there. 

I come to find out that the TSA flagged me for extra security screening.  That is not really a big deal.  I understand why, and I support the need to keep flying as safe as possible.  I am happy to do my part and be patient.   

Here though is where it really begins.  This flight that I was on was packed full.  Not a seat to be spared.  As a passenger, I do my part, making sure that I follow directions and I have my one carry on luggage and a briefcase, laptop bag or purse as my additional item.  I DID NOT HAVE A PURSE, BY THE WAY.  I had my carry on and my laptop bag.   

There are some lofty pricks out there that believe that the rules do not apply to them.  They bring on their carry on luggage, briefcase, garment bag, laptop bag, shopping bag of snacks and their Starbucks, that’s right, your trip is not complete without your fucking Starbucks.   

And no one employed with the airlines will say anything to these assholes with all the extra luggage.  I don’t care if you are first class or economy class, the rules are the fucking rules.  Follow them.  But does it stop there?  Oh no the hell it doesn’t.  When they go to board with all their shit they have their hands so full with their luggage, laptop bag, briefcase and Starbucks that they are unable to give the ticket clerk their ticket so asshole has to hold up the line while he makes the attendant go through his jacket pocket and dig out the God Damn Ticket.   

HELLO!  TICKET LADY!  Here is your fucking opportunity to tell this prick that he has too much shit.   

Of course you all know me all to well (all 4 of my regular readers) and know that I am not one to let stupid shit like this pass by, I speak up and loudly say, “There is always one on every flight that has to hold up the line”  He shoots me an angry look but so what.  What can he do?  His hands are full. 

We board the plane and once inside we all have to wait while all the passangers that brought more than 2 items stow and secure all of their shit and they don’t even use the space under the seat in front of them.  No, the arrogant pricks have to put all of their stuff into the overhead and completely fill up the bin.  The whole line again has to wait for these pricks and expect the rest of us to wait because they can’t follow the rules and guidelines.   

I know what is going to happen once the plane lands and we are ready to disembark from the plane.  These guys are going to hold everyone up again as they gather all their items out of the overhead bins.  Assholes.  Learn to travel  within the rules.   

People piss me off.  The airlines piss me off.  The rules are made simple.  People need to follow them and the airlines need to enforce them.   

And if you are one of these arrogant, asshole pricks that just has to bring everything, including the kitchen sink as carry on, I hope you learned something from this rant.   

Thanks USAir and thanks for another wonderful flight experience. 

And thanks to the assholes that provided me the material for this posting.

Did you get one of those desktop calenders like the sell in the mall.  The kind that you read something smart, witty, or cartoonish on each day.  I did.  I get one every year.  They are nice and useful but I do have one complaint about them.  You have to wait one entire week to even use it.  I hate having to wait seven days to view the first cartoon or fun fact. 

 So here is my thought, why not have these calenders start on Christmas Day so that we can begin using them right away? 

In the meantime, I will just sit here and leave my calender in the box for a few days before I can use it.

Is there no airplane etiquette anymore?  I know you are in cramped quarters and personal space is at a premium but when someone has their legs stretched out so far under your seat that they are actually touching my feet, that is where I draw the line.  And so began my 6 hour battle last night on my flight home from Seattle.

I was sitting in the middle seat, which it uncomfortable and tight to begin with.  There is nowhere to spread out nor can you lean too far to the left or to the right.  Most of the time you need to sit straight in the middle.  So here I am, sitting uncomfortably in the middle seat minding my own business when this guy behind me slides his feet under my seat and starts to touch my legs.  This made me slightly uncomfortable so I moved my legs slightly hoping that he would get the subtle hint that my legs were there and he would back off.  That did not work.  There was a time or six when his feet would come all the way under my seat to where I could see his shoes next to mine.  For the next few hours it was a war of his leg touches and my subtle hints. 

At one point, I pulled my legs back so hard and fast into his feet, hoping that he would get the message that he was invading my space but alas, he did not.  I finally had enough and I turned around in my seat and loudly said to him “Listen Larry Craig, I tried to be subtle about this footsie game you insist on playing with me.  I don’t swing that way.  Maybe you can try a bathroom stall when we land.”   With that, I spun back around and returned to my seat.

I could hear him behind me calling me an asshole and he had no idea and that what I had done was uncalled for and I could care less.  I made my point and he had stopped - for about an hour.  Then it started up all over again.  There was about an hour left of the flight and I really did not want to have another verbal exchange with this guy who was now just being spiteful. 

I reached down under the seat in front of me and pulled out my metallic silver Sharpie marker from my laptop bag.  While his feet were sticking out under my seat, I drew on his sneakers little happy faces, squiggle lines, a few choice words, etc…  At this point I figured I had my revenge and resigned myself to putting up with his rudeness until we landed. 

When the plane landed and we were ready to disembark.  Not once did I look at the guy or say another word to him.  I grabbed my bags and like everyone else I made my way into the terminal.  It was not until we were out of the jetway before I heard him exclaim “What the ****!”  I guess he noticed his sneakers.   By this time I had blended into the crowd. 

 With a big smile I made my way out of there and met my family who were picking me up.  When my wife asked me how my flight went I just smiled and answered great.

It is nice to know that this problem is not confined to just my area of the country.  Driving into work this morning I drove behind a woman that was performing a full make over in her car during the morning commute.  What impressed me most was her ability to drive without the use of her hands since they were both occupied with the daunting task of teasing (I thought teased hair went out of style long ago) and brushing her long mane.  This feat was performed while going about 65 MPH too.  Her skill and mastery of driving without hands while performing a make over would make any professional driver envious.  Not once did she swerve or veer out of her lane.  I was tempted, since I was driving a rental car, to pull my vehicle up along side her closely to see what would happen if I was to nearly sideswipe her.  Would she be able to react quickly enough?  I would bet she would no longer need to tease that hair anymore.

That being said, what I have found interesting is that drivers here are more courteous on the road then drivers back east tend to be.  For example, when you are trying to get over a lane and use your signal other drivers will easily let you in.  Back east, someone would have sped up just to make sure you will never be able to get over.  I have been trying hard to be a courteous drive here.  Years of conditioning make it tough to overcome sometimes. Traffic around here is way worse then New York, New Jersey, Philly traffic.  I can’t believe that anyone gets anywhere on time around here.  Folks here are telling me it can regularly take 2 hours to make a 25 mile commute in and around the city.  That is nuts!  I have more of appreciation of my commute now.   Give me Philly traffic any day!     

I love an early morning flight.  I love that I can hop on a plane and be practically be anywhere in the country before lunch. 

What aggravates that hell out of me, and this happens every single time, is that the gate for my flight is always the very last gate in the terminal.  I have to walk 200 yards, 2 full football fields, to get to the gate.  Every fracking time!  I am getting sick and tired of it.  For once I would love to have a flight depart from gate 1.  Or at least be in the 1-8 range. 

The airline gods are messing with me.  I know they are and quite frankly I am getting pissed over it.  I don’t want to have to walk halfway to Seattle to just board the plane that is taking me to Seattle. 

As I am walking past the other 30 gates I notice that many of them are not even occupied this early in the morning.  If they are not being used then why is it I am always having to walk all the way to the end of the terminal?  I have already waited in the 100 yard security line.  And for those that have never been in the Philadelphia terminal, there is not an electronic walkway.  You have to hoof it through there. 

I arrive in Seattle and walk through their airport, which is not too bad, and walk up to the car rental counter to get my car.  They tell me that I have to go to the Preferred Counter.  Where is that?  Walk down to the up escalator, go across the walkway, take the down elevator and you will find the counter there.  So let me get this straight?  If I step off a plane I can rent right where I get my luggage but if I am preferred I have to walk halfway back to Philadelphia?  You got to be kidding me!  This Preferred stuff does not seem very preferential.

Anyway….  this is my rambling for the day.