Driving While ???

   In the wake of this week’s airline fiasco where two pilots overshot their destination by 150 miles, I have some questions that need to be answered. The pilots have made a statement that they “lost track of time while using their laptops to workout crew schedules.” I find this incredibly hard to believe, as I have been in a drunken, alcohol induced stupor on MANY an occasion and awoke to find myself in another house or even a nearby city that I had no recollection of going to. Hell, I have even opened my eyes to find myself in clothes that I am sure were not mine. But I have never, never, never been sober and lost track of 150 miles and 93 minutes of time. Sure, a lot of my life is blurry, spotty to remember at best, but I cannot recall saying “Wow, look at that, I just blinked my eyes and it’s an hour and a half later, oh and were in Houston!” I wouldn’t say that I’m afraid of flying, (I once went skydiving), but I do have “control issues” when a pilot has my life in his hands and I am not even allowed to be a “back seat driver.” So here are my concerns that I would like addressed to help me get my sense of trust back in the airline industry.


1. In most major U.S. cities, it is illegal to drive a car while talking on a cell phone. If you have an accident and passengers are hurt or killed, the authorities can press criminal charges on you. I’m no rocket scientist, and I am not a licensed pilot, but I’m kind of thinking that flying a commercial jet is probably harder than driving my truck. With this being said, isn’t using a laptop more tedious than talking on a phone? Do we really need to tell someone that is flying our plane to please put the laptop down?

2. If laptop use while flying is now acceptable, then is it now o.k. for me to get up to use the bathroom while the plane is taking off or landing? I mean, the stewardesses are always harping on you to buckle up during this time, but I feel it is not as bad as flying while Yahoo-ing. If the pilot thinks that it is a must for him to check his porn sites while playing God with my life, shouldn’t I have the final say on when I take my bathroom breaks?

3. As I have only flown on a few flights that lasted over two hours, I regretfully had the chance to eat an in-flight meal but twice. Do you think that the passengers got an extra meal on their flight? It did go over its time by an hour and a half after all. I think they all should have at least received a couple extra bags of those cool peanuts and maybe a few of those really neat airplane bottles of vodka. You really can’t put a price on air safety, but I know that vodka would have made it all better with me.

4. I wonder if the airlines are worried about the blame falling on them instead of the pilots. Maybe they are worried about the public’s perception of airline safety now? I can see the bumper sticker propaganda they will flood the market with; “Planes Don’t Kill People, Google-ing Pilots Kill People”. And the pilots can retort with the excuse that they have a new “diagnosed disease”. They can call it “Dumb-Ass Pilot’s” disease.

   I can’t imagine what was going on in those passengers’ minds as they looked at their watches and wondered why they were still in the air. I would like to think that if it ever happened to a flight I was on, the stewardesses would have the sense to start a free open-bar and pass out a couple decks of cards, maybe even shed those stuffy jackets they wear. You know, make my hour and a half “worth-while”.

The Holy McGrail

“Big Mac / Filet O Fish / Quarter Pounder / French Fries / Icy Coke / Thick Shake / Sundaes and Apple Pies” Do you remember this catchy rhyme that McDonalds used during the eighties? I have often wondered why there was never any mention of the McRib Sandwich. I have been a combo meal buying fool for almost forty years now, (not all of them by choice, as I will explain later), and have never grasped the reason(s) that this particular sandwich never received the status it deserved.


As a child, nothing pleased me more than a hamburger or box of chicken nuggets from Mickey Dees. We did not eat out a lot so this was always a treat. But somehow after hundreds, maybe thousands of McCombo meals my taste buds rarely become excited when they see the golden arches. I am now a parent and my children also “crave”, as I did when I was their age, old Ronald’s menu. So, when I have lost the battle of where our “next potential heart attack” will come from, like many other parents, I too must find something that I can stomach on their McMenu. For me, it is the McRib. There is just one problem with my decision. The McRib is only a seasonal menu item. It seems that as fast as it McGraces us with its BBQ flavor, it quickly disappears for no known reason. Which always leaves me wondering……………………… MCWHY???

Why is it that the McDonald’s McRib extravaganza cannot last all year? Is there a special season that the sacred McAnimals can only be hunted? Maybe there is a tightly regulated Mclimit on these magical McBeasts which limits supply to the worldwide demand. I have even envisioned that the processing plant that “McMolds” these McRiblets has an extremely short expiration date on their product and it takes a whole year to “regenerate” for the next McBatch of “almost meat molds.” Surely there is no possible way that this shortage has anything to do with the unique McBuns. What about the McBBQ sauce that the rib-like product is swimming in? I suppose there is the possibility that the sauce is made from rare McHerbs and McSpices that are harvested in a secret South American jungle next to the McPickle and McOnion farm.

Either way, there just isn’t a front running answer to the McShortage of McRibs. My days of enjoying McNuggets are far behind me, and my children have passed the age of “Happy Meal Amazement.” If McDonalds wants to keep a long time customer coming back in the McFuture, they need to rethink the whole McRib “season.” With all of the new fast food chains popping up every day, I am sure that I can satisfy my taste buds somewhere McElse.

The Good Old Days

   As a child growing up in the seventies, a typical Saturday at my father’s house went something like this. Woke up to the sound of the Roadrunner demolishing ole Wile E Coyote again and hustled to the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal. Dug waaaay down in the cereal box to see what really cool prize I could snag before my siblings arose. What’s it going to be today? Maybe a matchbox car, or a balsa wood airplane, or one of those really cool magic marking pens that you needed the spy decoder to read. Dangit!! Another one of those Barbie rings. I guess I’ll tell my sisters and let them fight over it. Hmmm, if we all eat a second bowl today, maybe dad will buy another box for tomorrow?


Oh well, off to the great outdoors. My yard was my kingdom and the neighborhood was the entire planet. First I have to get ready for the days adventures.

1. The perfect stick to use as a sword, gun, eye-gouger…Check!

2. My trusty old bike (Evel Knievel motorcycle stand in). Check!!

3. Shirt (This was optional). Check!

4. Canteen full of Kool-Aid. Check!

   Looks like it is going to be another hot, sunny day. I may need to refill the canteen with my neighbor’s garden hose later. After hours of sweat, dirt, skinned knees, and future calluses, dad says it is time for lunch. Woohoo, P. B. and J. with potato chips. This is great AND we get to come inside to eat while The Lone Ranger reruns are on. I scarfed down a couple sandwiches so now it is time to get back to my outside adventures. Another few hours of “jumping the Grand Canyon” on my “motorcycle” and …..hold it…..Dad is calling. I hadn’t noticed it was dark already. Oh well, those conquests will be there tomorrow. Time for a Mr.Bubbles bath to clean all the blood and dirt off of me. Gotta have my Batman Pajamas on as we all gather around the television. Dad has a surprise for us all. Cracker Jacks. This might be my chance to make up for this morning's prize debacle. Yessiirree!! It looks as though I am the proud owner of a Super Bouncy ball! I manage to get in trouble for almost knocking everything off the knick knack shelf while Dad watches Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. He finally lets us know that it is time for bed and my brother and I have a tug-of-war with our Stretch-Arm-Strong all the way to our room. Another day in the books. Maybe tomorrow I’ll jump the Astrodome on my bike?

   I remember all this as though it was still happening and it makes me sad for our children. No-one wants to be outside when they can play X-Box in the air conditioning. The government says that it is dangerous for people to drink out of water hoses. We make our children wear helmets when riding their bicycles and wouldn’t dare let them roam the neighborhood and get out of sight. Corporations are cutting back everywhere. When was the last time your children opened a cereal box or a Cracker Jack box to receive something other than a paper prize? Where are all the wholesome cartoons? (I still think it’s funny when the Roadrunner speeds across the canyon without a bridge and Wile E Coyote takes a thousand foot plunge into a boulder) It is sad to think that my children will not know the joy of a world without caution. We teach our children to not trust anyone and anything. I wonder if this trend will continue and somehow THESE will be “the good old days” to our children. MMMMM…….all this reminiscing made me hungry for some Cracker Jacks. Gotta Go!

2012 Doomsday

   Lately there seems to be a growing interest in the Mayan calender and their doomsday predictions. Scientists say that the Mayan calender ends on the Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012. We are then led to believe that this calender predicts the end of the world through a great flood. The "great" Mayans predicted it so it must be ...right??
   Well I personaly haven't spoken with any Mayans lately, well o.k., ever. So I have no way of knowing if this is truely what the calender means, and public "knowledge" has a history of changing from time to time. I mean, these scientists are probably the same guys who said it was good for you to increase your red meat and eggs intake in the seventies, only later they tell me that it caused my clogged arteries and high blood pressure. So I am going with the tried and true saying, "I call bullshit." Let's think about this together. I will try to simplify my reasoning:

1. Bookmaking.  I am one who loves to take the favorites in a bet. They are called the favorites for a reason, they predominately win. So , that being said, man has forecast the end of civilization for literally thousands of years, and no one has got it right yet. No One. That's zero percent correct. Not Jim Jones, the Egyptians, those Hale Bop comet chasers, and I'm going out on a limb here to say that the Mayans don't have it right either. Of course, sooner or later the favorites bet tends to get upset. But I can't believe this is the one. Play the odds.
2. History. If the Mayan's were so damn smart, why aren't they still around? No one knows exactly what happened to them. Just vanished. The platypus managed to stick around and not go M.I.A. Hell, the Chinese have been here for a few thousand documented years and they didn't disappear. And who would you rather have calculating the endless mathmatics of the universe? A Chineese grad student, or a loin clothed cannibal living in the jungles of South America that doesn't have the intuition of a platypus?  No brainer there.
3. Religion. If you choose to believe the scientists version of the calendar then you probably aren't a Christian. The Bible speaks of a totally different end to the world. No water there, only a firey Hell. God already did the whole "flood the earth" thing. Nothing new to prove. And besides that, what Christian would believe that God would end all of existence just four days before his birthday? The Bible says God made us in his own image and I know that I personally love my birthday parties, so God must too. Why cheat yourself out of all those gatherings in your honor. In my opinion, the Mayans could have gathered more support from Christians if they would have chosen Halloween as a day of obliteration.
4. Drama. As a nation, a people, and a world population, we love drama. What could be more dramatic than to predict the end of everything? Mass hysteria in the streets. A shockwave of second guessing as the day draws near. Tons of finger pointing , and when the day passes an outcry of "I told you so" raining down from the buildings. You can't write that story without someone buying it, and people WILL buy it. (Note to self...get a couple of those "The end is near " shirts made)
5. What's Behind Door #2 For those of you who choose to believe that this is nothing more than an extreme marketing ploy, you will be faced with life changing decisions. Decisions that may very well affect the outcome of your own personal eternity. Pray....don't pray.   Repent...Don't repent.   Pay the December bills.....Go spend the cash at the riverboat with a room full of hookers. If you don't think those are decisions that will affect your eternity, go ahead and spend the cash. When December 22 rolls around, go home and tell your wife where you've been and see how that forever-after works for you.

   In closing, I will not personally be at the riverboat on December 21,2012. I will probably be working or sitting at my computer waiting to write my first "I told you so " blog. Until then I will be waiting for a group of scientists to show up at my door with the solutions to these problems. Besides, I get some of my best Christmas shopping done on that week.