Observations from 2011

This is the longest I've gone between blogs. I don't like to make excuses, but moving, waiting to get a new computer, and general laziness do come to mind.

Nonetheless, I thought it would be great to close out the year with a few observations and lessons learned in 2011:

- If you're unemployed and need to blame someone, "occupy" something. Wall Street was just the beginning.

- Insightful, thought provoking people don't run for President.

- If I had to do it all over again, I would have been a divorce attorney.

- Online dating was created so people could now lie to thousands of people at the same time.

- My parents have finally started embracing technology. They think Atari "pong" is really cool.

- After a marital separation, you love your spouse as much as the Jews like Ahmadinejad.

- The best movie of the year may be a silent film, which should tell you a little about the state of current films.

- Songs by Lady Gaga and Katy Perry sound better when sung by the Chipmunks.

- Between reality television and virtual gaming, some of us no longer recognize fact from fiction.

- Alcoholism is never the answer, but sometimes, it's a decent suggestion.

- Our children are like medication with side effects - they make us feel better, but can cause diarrhea.

- God rested on the 7th day, so men would create football and avoid their wives on Sunday.

- If post offices keep closing, we'll have to create a new moniker for someone "going postal."

- If you use Youtube, Facebook, and Twitter, you can save a bundle on coffee with friends.

- Regularly reading your friend's blogs is the greatest form of charity that you can do.

- I'd like New Year's resolutions if you didn't have to commit to any particular year.

- They play hockey outdoors once a year. Every job should have the same outdoor policy.

- Why take the kids on an expensive trip to Space Mountain at Disney, when you can ride a NYC taxi for five bucks?

- Using FaceTime on an Apple computer can show everyone how great you've been aging

- When life has you by the balls, kick life in his.

- Steve Jobs should have created an app for dying. This way, he could just press the reset button.

Self Storage

Let's not kid ourselves. Money just isn't what it used to be. Many people are unemployed, and if you're lucky enough to still have a job, you're probably doing the work of two people. The housing market is stagnant, and several properties will be forever underwater.

And yet, the malls are packed. It's difficult to get a restaurant reservation during primetime, and new cars are flying off the lots.

Less money breeds more spending? I don't think I've ever seen a better blueprint for financial ruin.

But I refuse to fall into the trap. Corners must be cut; budgets must be slashed. So, I've decided to begin with my housing arrangements. I find myself currently between homes, and rather make a deposit on a pricey condo, I'm going to stay with my furniture...

In my storage facility.

That's right. At just $286/month, even subsidized housing can't compete with me. It's not spacious, but it has everything I need.

First, it's climate controlled. That's very important, especially during the winter months. And because I don't have to pay for utilities, I'm saving a bundle. It's a bummer that I don't have any windows, but thanks to my 24-hour security key card, I can step outside for fresh air any time I want.

It also comes with a sizable garage for my car. Because I'll be the only one staying over, I have plenty of room for my car and other garage staples. If my friends want to visit, there's even plenty of extra space for them.

The key to making this work, however, is the proper preparation. First, you need a reason to have an ample amount of furniture migrate with you. A foreclosure works nicely. An eviction, bankruptcy or old reliable, a divorce. You're suddenly out of the house with plenty of furniture to spare.

As long as you have a couch, coffee table, lamp, small refridgerator, dresser, a bed and a television....you have the makings of an excellent storage facility apartment. Besides, you don't want to overfurnish. You'll be able to invite some guests, but a Super Bowl party is out of the question.

Entertainment can be tricky. You'll have to install a satellite dish on the roof, and indoor Wi-Fi could prove challenging. However, it's probably just a few short months away before Apple creates a new device that will be compatible with a storage facility.

When it comes to hygeine, you'll have full access to the corporate bathroom. And the best part is, no lines. The shower is a tough one, but I would suggest keeping a garden hose with you, which can be installed somewhere outside. If you buy a spray nozzle and elevate the hose, you'll have a makeshift shower head.

It could get somewhat claustrophobic in there, so you'll need to keep the door open at all times. You'll have a picturesque view of all the other storage bins, and sit and wonder what everyone else hides in these things. Nights could get lonely, so it's important to entice others to begin to move in. If not, I would recommend keeping an active social calendar, so you won't have to stay in the bin for long stretches.

I'll be moving in next month. If you're interested, but unable to commit long term, I'd be willing to sub-lease.

I'm planning an open house.

A Job Like No Other

It's rare when I'm affected by the death of a celebrity. Like everyone else, athletes and actors die all the time. We're reminded of this every year during the Academy Awards and Old Timer's Day when they call our attention to the "In Memorium" montage.

I'm saddened for about a minute or so, possibly ask a few friends if they knew that so-and-so died, and then quickly move on.

Steve Jobs died last week. And everything feels different.

He wasn't related to us, and very few had a chance to even meet him. And yet, it felt like you lost a member of your family. In a way, we actually did. Let's face it, we all see our Ipods, Ipads, and Macs every day. We can't make the same claim for most of our cousins, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. It's sad, but c'mon. Some of these apps are much more entertaining than members of our families.

Steve was a deity. Fans of Apple often looked and sounded like religious disciples. You'd see them on line in front of an Apple store eagerly waiting to be allowed in just to touch the latest Apple device. At an even higher level, we'd watch the media flooding Macworld with baited breath, clamoring to report on the next product launch.

Jobs would walk out on stage, and to many, it was like God appeared. And he was wearing glasses, which made sense because God probably read a lot. It was as if Moses came down from the mountain. Ironically, they both carried tablets. He spoke about the future in a way that no one else could. He told us what we needed in order to move forward. As a people, we listened.

When we look back at what he affected, the results are staggering. The music business, the movie business, publishing, gaming, telecommunications, computer hardware and software. In other words, he touched anything he wanted without having to rest on the seventh day.

Many of us were informed of his death on the devices he created. It seemed fitting and slightly eerie, as if Jobs was communicating from the other side. I read about it on my Ipad. I was asleep on the train. A CNBC alert beeped and I awoke. And although it wasn't a surprise to anyone, it wasn't any less painful.

After all, who's going to guide us forward now? It won't be a President, Warren Buffet, or Oprah. Their is no heir apparent.

When Jobs died, a piece of us died too - - Hope. Somehow, Steve managed to get us through the next season. There would be rumours of new discoveries, there would be rumours about new solutions to problems that were currently unknown. There would be rumours about rumours. And this sustained us. We looked forward to presentations and press conferences; something that rarely happens with our own President. Looking forward to the next announcement harkened back to a simple time, centuries ago, when communities received their news from the town crier.

For a short time, it was nice. Jobs suggested that we "Think Different."

From now on, we'll have to.

Why Animals Don't Need Prozac

Humans are strange animals. Aren't they? We're filled with angst and anxiety that we carry around for years. And by the time we realize how unimportant most of it was, we're probably somewhere between incontinence and a respirator.

Our pets have it much better. And to a certain extent, wild animals have it the best.

But why? Their basic requirements are the same as ours. They need to eat, drink, make, bathe, sleep, and have sex. On the surface, it's a mirror image of our species. Not exactly. What separates them from us is that these simplistic needs are ALL they concern themselves with. Nothing else gets in the way.

Our lists are twice as long. And if you're Jewish, they're even longer.

First, animals never have to worry about money. With the exception of the kangaroo and maybe a koala, none of them have pockets. Without pockets, there's just no room for cash or credit cards. So they don't have any financial worries. Their kids never go to college and retirement plans never enter the picture.

Animals also have the unique benefit of never having to focus on clothes. They don't care about Fashion Week, and last year's style means about as little as this year's. If they have fur, they're always wearing a jacket and if they don't, well, they're in their birthday suits. Fortunately, they don't give a damn. They can walk around naked all day, and nobody sends them to their own beach. They never get arrested.

They also can't talk. That means a few important things. They don't spew racial slurs, they don't argue about politics, and they never bad mouth anybody. If you counted the number of times we did these things, you'd quickly realize that if we didn't, we'd never talk at all.

Animals don't have to worry about keeping up with the Jonses. They don't get extra credit for being in a nicer dog house, a spacious place for hibernation, or the perfect spot in a tree. Location, location, location doesn't apply here. Also, nobody drives. If you don't drive, you can't possibly look at cars as a status symbol. Most wouldn't know a Ford from a Lexus, except maybe deer that would freeze a little more in certain zenon headlights.

They never worry about their health. I haven't met one animal yet that's considers hersrlf a hypochondriac. Even if they have a condition that should concern them, they don't pay attention. I've never seen a tiger worry about incontinence. The birds never worry about flu season. Even if it's the bird flu. Does an elephant ever think about cataracts? Does your dog worry about his first colonoscopy? No chance.

Animals' biggest category of superiority has to be....sex. Animals have sex to breed and perpetuate the species. That's it. Not us. We're at a different level. When was the last zebra that worried about erectile dysfunction? Did the Lion King ever ask his date if it was "good for her?" Did a horse ever worry about being thought of as a slut? Not even Equus. Maybe this is why humans who are good in the sack are referred to as "animals."

Animals are at peace. They don't complain to their friends. They don't get medication from their shrinks. They're just survivors. Animals aren't caught up in nonsense. They keep it simple.

A lesson all humans still need to learn.

The Joy of Text

I'm all for communicating by email. I've even come to tolerate messages sent on Facebook. Skype and Facetime don't seem to bother me either. I don't love Twitter, but I do enjoy some of the "tweets." And I must admit, I still have a nostalgic liking for smoke signals and carrier pigeons.

But I have to draw the line when it comes to our laziest form of communication.

Texting.I

It's not the smiley faces or the LOL's that drive me nuts. It's everything else.

First, any acronym should be expunged immediately. Cute shortcuts like OTL and TTYL are like the Cliffs Notes of the human language. Say what you mean. Sometimes, someone throws one at you that you've never seen before. Then you have to keep guessing until it has some semblance of meaning. At the end, you're exhausted and realize that this episode could have been avoided if one of you would have just picked up the phone.

Next up on the list is the use of the letter "U" and the letter "R". As in the infamous, "How R U?" Geez. How lazy is this crap? Have we gotten to the point where we don't even have time to spell out three letter words? Pretty soon we'll be able to shorten everything and bring back morse code.

And it gets worse.

Some people deem it necessary to confirm plans with a single letter. "K." So let's put this into perspective. Our lives are now moving so fast that we don't even have time to spell out 2-letter words. This decision sits at a level that lies somewhere between ennui and illiteracy. I always wondered what the shortened version of not confirming plans woudl be. "NO K?"

We can't even thank people correctly. Instead, we have to show off our creativity and attempt to express our gratitude in as many different ways as possible. When we thank someone, we can say "Thnx" or "Thks." When we don't like something it "sux." If we really like something, we say it "roks." For some reason, we just can't bring ourselves to add the letter "C."

This brings us to the King, the reigning champion, the crown jewel of texting laziness. It's referred to as "Colon P." It almost sounds dirty or like some test you have to take by leaving a sample in a cup and leaving it on the sink. In reality, the "Colon P" is a symbolic way of showing your displeasure.

:P

To truly decifer its meaning, you're required to turn your head 90 degrees to the left. When you do, you'll see an image of a face with a tongue sticking out. This is classy stuff. Somewhere in the future, the spaceships will land. The aliens will emerge and see our used Blackberrys and think that we must have been a very intelligent species.

Of course, if they came to this conclusion, we'd have to check their intelligence.

Hopefully this made you LOL, or at the the very least, gave you a :)

9/11.....a thought process

Ten years ago, sitting in a downtown office in New York City, I had many thoughts running through my head.

The first of which was trying to process the enormity of what had just happened. Hijacks, terrorist suicide, crash landings, and an act of war were all words and phrases that circled the wagon otherwise known as my eyes.

So now I was half way home. I knew what I was thinking as it related to the day's events. Now it was time to move on to the other half. What were the perpetrators thinking?

Yes, I eventually figured out that the terrorists wanted to use our own planes against us, destroy national landmarks, and wreak havoc on several thousand lives as well. But as the weeks began to pass, I found myself once again asking, "what were they thinking?"

Did these trained assassins and their leaders not think that there would be retribution? Did they not think that it would bring our nation together in complete unity? (at least for awhile anyway). Could they not surmise that we would eventually win the game of hide and seek and find their militant masterminds? Or that these events wouldn't force the improvement of our security personnel?

I couldn't know for sure. In fact, I still don't. Because the attacks from a decade ago still seem unfathomable to us all.

Today we commemorate and honor those who fought and lost their lives 10 years ago. We do this with flowers, processions, and speeches not only at Ground Zero, but in small towns and communites across the country.

At the most symbolic site of all, buildings have once again risen. A pool glistens with a continuous flow of water, symbolic of the memories of those we lost, forever alive in our collective consciousness. The names of the deceased are emblazoned in stone all around this pool, once a pool of blood, and now of water. Families snapped photographs of the names of their loved ones, and some even used paper to trace them, so they had a version at home as well.

Politicians arrived but left politics behind. Religion was absent from the ceremonies with the only reference at all being, "God Bless America." The media broadcasts had more moments of silence than moments of commentary.

Just what were the terrorists thinking now? Ten years later, we came together as one yet again. The city rebuilt and so did many companies, fire stations, and families. The buildings rose once more and so did we. Because that's what this country does. It remembers, it heals, and it moves forward.

Whatever your thoughts are today, make them proud. And let's hope that next time terrorists plan to think....they do it twice.

Apocolypse Now

Can someone please explain what's going on? We're just a few weeks shy of the 10th anniversary of 9/11. And if the memory of that horrific day wasn't enough, the world has now shaken New York with an earthquake, followed by the upcoming wrath of some woman named Irene that's supposed to be a real bitch.

How am I supposed to handle all this? I already have to worry about the price of gas, the debt ceiling, the unemployment rate, and the rising cst of college. I don't have time for natural disasters.

Maybe New York was overdue. New Orleans had their turn, and almost seceded from the union. The Carolinas regularly watch their couches float down the street, cows soar through the air in a tornado infested Kansas, and California shakes their booty every year.

So now it's our turn. Up to now, the biggest disaster we've had to deal with in this town was the New York Mets. But an earthquake and a hurricane in the same week? Talk about sticking a knife into our backs. We're not used to this.

And if someone has to punish New York, the least they could have done was go with one of the biblical plagues. I'm not talking about the biggies. Turning the Hudson River to blood, and killing our first born can't be condoned. Even I have to draw the line somewhere.

However, many of the other plagues would be a nuisance, but much more tolerable. First of all, I think we can handle a deluge of frogs. Some of them are even cute. But if you have an aversion, we'll just release a bunch of snakes and in a few hours...problem solved.

From here, we move on to Knats, Flies, and Locusts. I'm not a fan of any of these, but if you hire the right exterterminator, this is easily resolved. This city has successfully dealt with bed bug infestations. So bring on the locusts.

Boils could be an issue. Nobody wants to go on an interview or a date with one of these. It just ruins the moment. Boils may have been a threat to Egypt long ago, but that was before the invention of the Z-Pack. Moving on, I don't want to make light of Diseased livestock. This is a serious plague. Fortunately, we've already had experience with mad cow disease, so we wouldn't exactly be in foreign territory. The Bible also references horses, asses, camels, and oxen. I would feel bad for most of these animals, however, we all have some asses in our lives that we wouldn't mind seeing diseased.

The last two plagues are most closely related to the weather issues we've been having. Thunder and hail would definitely cause a few traffic accidents which wouldn't be good for anyone. Thankfully, we've dealt with the consequences of global warming for so many years that a hailstorm would seem like a walk in the park.

Lastly, we could have Darkness. Now, I could see how this would have been a problem when the Bible was written. And some of us, even now, would have a problem finding decent candles in the house. But times have changed. Thanks to Apple and Amazon, there are several devices we can use in the dark and not miss a beat. Also, many of us look better in the dark, and some of our family members have been in the dark for years.

Hopefully, we'll see very little of Irene. Stay safe.

Who passes on EZ-Pass?

The Summer is meant for driving. Driving with the window down and the radio on (that would be satellite radio) cruising the crowded roads. Unfortunately, more cars means more traffic. But don't worry. We all have EZ-Pass.

Well, don't we? It only costs $1 per month; a small price to pay for staying mobile through a toll.

But everytime I find myself navigating into the assigned EZ Pass lane, I wind up passing a huge line-up of cars on either side. There are people actually reaching for their wallets, or rummaging through their glove compartments for spare change. And these lanes barely move.

These people represent the final hold-outs. Drivers who took a stand in protest by claiming:

"I will not place adhesives on my windshield."
"I never gave up Disco, so why would I start paying my tolls differently?"

I've always wondered. Who are these people? Why are they content to sit in a line like morons, while every other car on the road breezes by them? Without a budget for exhaustive research, I can only provide my own anecdotal evidence. These drivers must come from just a small group of the general population:

1- People in witness protection programs. This makes logical sense. You wouldn't want to give anyone your address, especially a state run agency.

2- Criminals. If you're wanted in any state, you certainly wouldn't want the GPS quality of an EZ-Pass getting in your way.

3- Lonely people. After all, there's nothing social about flying through the toll lane. But when you pay cash, think of all the fun you can have with the toll collector.

4- Dummies. These people are all around you, and "if you see something, say something."

You can't blame EZ-Pass for trying. They didn't just roll over. Instead, they stepped up their game with a second generation product - - Express EZ-Pass. Now, instead of hitting the brakes to insure that your EZ-Pass registers, you can keep your speed and breeze through like Lightning McQueen. This was golden. Who wouldn't want to save valuable time on their trip?

Well, this didn't work either. To this day, thousands of cars would rather slow down than speed up. I think it says something about our personalities. EZ-Pass? High energy, Type A, driven personality. No EZ-Pass? Lethargic, unmotivated, and no ambition.

Imagine if we could use the existence of EZ-Pass as a way to select people for dates or job interviews? "How long have you had EZ-Pass?" "Where do you see it in 5 years?"

I hope as you read this, you're already a member of the EZ-Pass tribe. If not, drive through life at your own risk.

Naming Rights.....and Wrongs

Is your name your destiny? Not for all of us. I've been through many serenades of "Rowe, Rowe, Rowe, your boat," but not once did I feel the desire to join the Navy, go out for crew, or train to become a Pirate.

However, there are several notables whose careers and actions have literally been shaped by inheriting their parents' last names. The most recent phenomenon is Amy Winehouse.

I've never found humor in the demise of an addict, but this one defies gravity. Amy "Winehouse" had an alcohol problem. Let's call it a big problem. To add salt to the wound or to the margarita, her first hit single was entitled, "Rehab." The lyrics even said:

"They tried to make me go to rehab, I said, no, no no."

I wish she would have gone. But seemingly, she was doomed from the start. She was a Winehouse.

Politicians are just as prone to the curse of the surname. Next up is a guy who takes lewd pictures of himself in his boxer shorts, and not much else. Then, he posts them on the internet specifically for young girls to see. Is it possible for a guy like this to be named anything else other than "Weiner?" If he thought ahead, he would have removed himself from the ballot earlier in his career and refocused his energies on getting a job at Nathan's or Hebrew National.

Wall Street is not immune either. Let's face it. How could a money manager take your funds and purport to return exactly 10% for over twenty consecutive years? Recessions, inflation, 9/11, oil crisis....it doesn't matter. You get 10%. Nobody asked any questions. At least not until the emergence of a virtual unknown named Madoff who admitted that he built his grandiose lifestyle by illegally "making off" with his clients' money.

Overweight comedic actors have last names like "Candy." (John) Baseball players have first names like "Homer" (Bush) and powerful members of Congress have last names like "Armey". (Dick) Hockey players have actually been named, "Playfair" (Larry)

Think about your own last names and see if you've missed your calling. Based on a just a small sample of my own Facebook contacts which include a "Schaefer", a "Mehr", and a "Berger", there should be a brewer, a politician, and a fast food franchise owner just ready to rear their heads.

Game Off

Tomorrow will mark one of the strangest days of the year. All (4) major professional sports will go completely dark. Flip on the tube at just about any other time and you're bound to see someone throwing a ball either to or at someone else. There's football on Thanksgiving, basketball on Christmas, baseball on Easter, and an outdoor hockey game on New Year's Day.

But on July 13th, ESPN may as well be broadcasting the yule log.

So now that the rest of us will have some extra time on our hands, let me suggest a few novel ideas to pass the time.

MEET SOMEONE FACE TO FACE

I know this is a foreign concept for most, but it may be refreshing to actually speak to someone in person. This will require that you put away your LOLs so you can spend some quality time with your BFFs. You'll have to unplug Skype and disconnect from Facetime. Close Facebook and Link yourself out. Disconnect the Twitter feed, and feed your face in the presence of someone else.

WATCH A SHOW ABOUT VAMPIRES

This shouldn't be very hard to find. Between "True Blood", an airing of any of the Twilight films, a copycat rip-off of either of these on the WB, or perhaps a documentary on Bela Lugosi, you're bound to find a pair of fangs somewhere. I'm not sure when vampires became sexy, but someone has clearly decided that going on a date with someone that could puncture your neck with their teeth makes for very good television.

READ A BOOK

I'm not suggesting that you don't currently read. Due to electronic readers, we're probably getting through more books than ever. I just think it would be nice to actually bust out an old hardcover the size of an SUV and get through a few chapters in bed with dim light. For some real fun, shut off the lights completely, and use candles. Your kids will probably ask that you call the power company, but you'll explain that "you're going old school, because that's how you roll."

WORK ON A JIGSAW PUZZLE

Most of us haven't touched one of these babys for years. But do you remember how much fun and relaxing they were? Somewhere along the way, we buried these with our baseball cards and our dolls. Others may have tried to resurrect an interest with our kids' oversized Sponge Bob puzzle, but it ended quickly when you reconfigured all (6) pieces in :30 seconds. Buy a puzzle of the map of the United States, and see how many states you get wrong.

TALK TO YOUR FAMILY

The "how was your day?" perfunctory question does not qualify. Initiate some meaningful dialogue. Ask your husband how much money he lost last week on gambling. Question the kids on what they did at camp today, and when they reply, "nothing," ask to be reimbursed. Finally, ask your wife about why she's sending status updates to her old boyfriend on Facebook.

TAKE A DRIVE

Do you remember when your parents used to do this? They'd say, "let's go for a drive." You didn't know where you were going, but it got you out of the house and probably created some good memories along the way. Your best chance of convincing anyone to do this again is targeting your spouse who can actually draw on past experience. Because if you take the kids for a drive, it will be to drop them off for a playdate, the mall, or anywhere you aren't.

All these are good options. Of course, you could always copy what I do.

Watch classic sports on TV.

Divorce.....The Musical

Another Tony Awards kudoscast has been put to bed and this year's big winner went to a musical with a satirical view of God and Mormonism. I'm sure that no one was happier than Mitt Romney.

But don't worry. This year's roster of Broadway Shows had something for all shapes and sizes. We had The Normal Heart (Aids), Catch Me if You Can (white collar crime)and Sister Act (identity theft.), to name a few. And this doesn't even count all the foul language that had to be removed during several acceptance speeches. So after a year like this, it would seem that Broadway has now officially covered every possible tragedy or vice known to man. All except one.

Divorce.

Divorce: The Musical. I already smell Tony. After all, what fun is divorce if you can't sing about it? There have already been successful shows about dating, marriage, and raising a family. So how is it possible that the Great White Way has avoided divorce for all these years?

Act I

The opening number would be a bouncy tune called, "I Do." Think a big wedding with lots of singing and dancing; a Broadway natural. After this, the show picks up some steam with the very steamy number, "Honeymoon Sex." which contains the famous line:

Don't read your iPad, not a single blurb
Just shut off the lights and post Do Not Disturb

The show's tone takes an ominous turn when the orchestra plays fan favorite, "Diaper Rash" which helps introduce a baby into the storyline. There's an uproarious ending where the lead holds on to the final note for over 20 seconds, ending suddenly when his baby son pees in his father's eye.

The end of Act I has a pivotal moment when cyber infidelity is "exposed" and relayed to the audience in a hard rock tune called, "My Twitter Girlfriend." It's a great visual as enormous computer screens are strewn across the stage as adjoining iPads dangle aimlessly from the ceiling.

After a short intermission consisting of several couples from the audience fighting near the restrooms and at the bar...Act II begins.

ACT II

The second act begins with a jazzy number which introduces both divorce attorneys who reveal their diabolical plot to drain their clients of their assets. They dance around with briefcases which open intermittently and cash falls out. The song is called, "We're the Only Winners," and undertones of "We are the Champions" can be heard in the chorus.

Next is a memorable little ditty called, "Alternate Weekends". It's an excellent courtroom scene where both parents fight over custody and has all the intensity of Jean Val Jean pleading to the Judge in Les Miserables. The tone changes quickly into a gentle ballad sung by the show's children while sitting in their therapist's waiting room. "My shrink is Crazier than Me" showcases great harmony.

The ending of "Divorce: The Musical" leaves the audience wanting more as we never really find out if our beleagured couple ever officially remarries. However, they reminisce about what could have been in a final song called, "You Ruined My Life."

Casting begins next month.

Pointless

My name is Adam and I'm a Points-a-holic. Yeah, you heard me. I love earning points on any and all of my purchases. I think it all started with the original Discover Card. The more you charged, the more you received back in cash credits. Then I graduated to converting my charges into airline points that could be applied to domestic flights. When I finally worked my credit up to elite status, I moved into the in crowd with American Express.

And this was the best of all. I could convert points into gift cards or concert tickets. They even told me about ways to double my points. Seeing that my totals were actually getting me somewhere tangible, I now look for points anywhere I can find them.

This is what recently led me to signing up for a points program at Sephora. Well, maybe it wasn't all about the points. The cashier was cute, dressed in all black and very friendly. She also said that my purchases would accumulate with every purchase I made, and that I could eventually apply the to products in the store. I said, "why not?", and she asked for my email address to seal the deal.

And here's where a man's mind turns to silly putty when just the right female's asking for information. This mistake, which seemed so innocent at the time, has now made me a member of the Sephora Beauty Insider - an email newsletter for the latest product highlights at Sephora. In this era of Big Brother technology, I could only naturally assume that Sephora would have a historical track of my purchases, and send information on the different colognes I've purchased over the years.

Guess again. Thanks to the highly unsophisticated Sephora marketing team, I'm now getting the latest information on products I would use only for an enhancement to a Halloween costume. Thanks to Sephora, I'm now learning about exciting products like "face luminizer gel", "pore purifying strips", "glossy balm", and "self-tanning body mist." Nothing on cologne, or anything else that pertains to men. I would have even settled for insights into face and body wash. But no......I was stuck with face luminizer gel.

I should have really learned my lesson. All points programs are not created equal. Some are merely looking for your email address so they can blast you with email sensory overload. That's why you have to be selective. Signing up for Best Buy makes sense. Bath and Body Works? Not so much. The same rules apply for credit cards.

Go into any mall, and in any store, and if you agree to open a credit card with them, they extend a total discount of 10-15%. Before long, you realze that you're carrying around about 10 credit cards you don't need and you're suddenly on 10 new email lists that you'd like to delete before every opening them. One thing I know is that I'm not alone here.

Why do we all fall for these clearly obvious marketing tactics? Is it just to save money, or do we somehow boost our egos when either accumulate or apply points. It evokes a sense of arrogance. You become a Points Elitest or Points Snob. And you can't share these points and can only remain with you. So really, what's the point of all this?

It's something our Mothers all taught us a long, long time ago. Don't take candy from strangers.

Bring Your Father to Work Day

My kids rarely ask me what I do for a living, and it's probably a good thing. I'm not even sure I know myself anymore.

However, when my company mentioned that they would be participating in a national "Bring Your Child to Work Day" event, I jumped at the opportunity. This day would not be haphazardly strewn together either. There was an agenda, and a real educational purpose. The children were to be graced with an opening address by the President of our division; a privilege that most employees rarely see.

The children were asked to shadow their parents around the office, and even interview them in the process. They were then expected to report back to the hosts on their findings. They were to be shown a "sizzle reel" explaining the basic tenets of our organization, and the unique capabilities of our sales and technology departments. After lunch, the day would consist of writing ad copy and working on producing their own television commercials.

I decided to take my youngest daughter because my oldest had a scheduled field trip. She was genuinely excited until she saw the agenda. Write copy? Make a commercial? That seemed too complicated and several feet above a 7-year old's head. I explained that they wouldn't make the projects too difficult, but she had her trepidations. Even an innocuous word like "storyboard" freaked her out. I told her it was like writing a comic strip, but she said she couldn't draw. I simplified it and said you just put a few words below a few sketches, but this worked about as well as a small band aid on a bullet wound.

It took a few weeks of prodding, but I finally convinced her. And so, the little girl ventured out on her first day at work in the big city. She was nervous, and who could blame her? Strange environment, new kids. It got me thinking about that feeling we get when starting any new job. We feel like kids.

She arrived promptly and I introduced her to some of my co-workers. She was shy, unlike the way she is almost anywhere else. The agenda began with the ceremonial meet and greets.

They asked each child what they wanted to be when they grew up. Everyone picked their top choice. My daughter had 4: Doctor, Dancer, Singer and Teacher. Holy crap. I'd have to work until I'm 97 to pay off the educational expenses. Maybe she could save money and become a dancing doctor or a singing teacher.

Shortly after, the kids were asked to interview their parents. And this is where the transformation began. If a salesperson entered my office when she was interviewing me, she tried to usher them out. She started forming allegiances with other people so she could get help escorting the more aggressive ones out. The kids were soon asked back into a conference room to share their findings and my daughter said brusquely, "you can leave now, Dad." First she removes colleagues, then she removes me.

After working on her commercial, she started using words like "green screen" and "tag line" like they had always been in her vernacular. One of the producers said that she has a knack for writing copy. People in human resources told me that they were impressed with her participation level. Several salespeople liked her assertiveness.

At the end of her work day, she noticed an employee pacing around his cube, wearing a baseball glove. He was tossing a softball in the air. My daughter's instinct told her to ask what he was doing. He said, "I'm bored." My daughter quickly replied, "shouldn't you be working?" There was deafening laughter in the office, as my daughter showed that she may be a natural born manager. I let her sit behind my desk and when a salesperson approached her for rates, she quoted them 40 percent higher than me.

During the last half hour, she was introduced to a barrage of people. This time she gave each one a firm handshake and even outstretched her hand first on a few occasions. People began asking her when she's coming back and a few joked about hiring her.

But the real joke was on me. Because I didn't take my daughter to work last week.

She took me.

Field of Screams

I started playing baseball when I was 8 years old.

I'm not sure what originally attracted me to it, but I was certain it was something I couldn't live without. There was something beautiful and inexplicable about the sound that those old wood bats made when connecting perfectly with the ball. And better yet, how cool it was to slide into second just ahead of the throw when stretching a single into a double. And what kid could ever forget that feeling of being on the mound and striking out an opposing player on three consecutive pitches?(Don't worry, it didn't happen often).

But as good as all the memories were, there was still one that I wish I hadn't taken with me.

I'm not talking about the obvious like a season ending injury, an awful coach, or popping up with two outs and the bases loaded. This one trumped them all - -

Overzealous Parents.

They were always well represented on both sides, and they made sure their voices could be heard. Everyone was fair game. They yelled at the umpires, their Coach, the opposing Coach, and most importantly....their own children.

It was specifically their vicarious natures which forced them into a hypercritical mode. You just wanted to say, "Hey look, pal. You played baseball a long time, but those days are over. Now the next generation is picking up the mantle. So just sit back and keep your trap closed." Of course, the less than politically correct dialogue that actually swam through my head was much shorter and closer to "shut the F up."

So now that I have a daughter playing competitive softball, I'm prepared to keep my opinions to myself, especially when on the field. There's just one problem.

I can't.

Something just comes over me as soon as the ball is put into play. I yell where to throw the ball, or where a player should stand on the field. I scream about hitting the cut-off man (or woman), or holding onto the ball. And I'm not even the coach.

Have I now fallen into the same trap as the hoards of parents before me?

You're damn right. But it's not for the reasons you may think. I don't yearn to play girls softball, and I recognize that at 10 years old, this isn't exactly Triple-A ball. You see, the true essence of the problem is baseball itself.

Baseball plays more games than any other professional sport. It's the equaivalent of an NBA and an NHL season combined. So there's never been a shortage of exposure to the game. Also, between Little League and softball, I've been in hundreds of games myself over the course of a lifetime. After awhile, you've just seen everything. You've seen so much that you have insight into something before it even happens. And with that kind of knowledge, how could I keep it to myself? I'm compelled to share with the group.

My daughter doesn't want to hear it. Neither does her coach. So why do I continue to rant?

It's simple. I was an athlete. And athletes are born to compete. If you show up on a field, a rink, a court, or whatever, you're there for a single purpose. To win. It's in my DNA; programmed like a character in the Manchurian Candidate. There's the sound of bat hitting the ball, and my mouth just opens by itself.

You're here to win. If not, why would you play?

My daugther has found several other reasons. She has hot chocolate on the bench during the cold Saturdays of April. She gets to show off her new glove and cleats every season, and giggles with the other girls about who knows what as they stand around in the outfield.

She'd like to win. But if she doesn't, it's not an issue. There's always a playdate later that afternoon. She's just enjoying an afternoon in the sun with her friends. The game is secondary.

I wish it was for me. However, there is something positive to look forward to. My grandchildren won't be constantly critiqued by their Mother when they grow up.

I just can't say the same about their grandfather.

Happy 50th Anniversary To Me

It took over one full year, but I've finally written my 50th blog. Please hold your applause. For most professional bloggers, this is far from an impressive feat. Most can crank out 2 per day and hit their 50th in any given month. But that's not my style. I'm more of a quality over quantity kind of guy. And depending on who you talk to you, that quality is still in question.

Needless to say, I'll be celebrating my anniversary all week. I'm not sure how I should be rejoicing. Maybe I'll buy myself a new keyboard or upgrade my IPad, where I wirelessly write many of these pieces. Then again, this blog isn't exactly profitable, and I'm on a tight budget.

Thankfully, Blogger is free, and so is their proprietarty data. In turn, (50) blogs have revealed a few interesting statistics. For one, I'm now up to 1100 page views! Look out Google, here I come. With these numbers, I anticipate going public in the next 6-8 months, with a stock valuation somewhere between Facebook and Twitter. I've also been read in a grand total of (10) different countries, making this blog an international sensation. This kind of global reach will undoubtedly help with the pricing of my IPO.

I'm also proud to report that there are (2) followers of my blog. It's not exactly a record, but they are both female which does wonders for my ego.

I don't have specific demographics. Hopefully that won't affect my chances of selling banner ads to advertisers. I've also had about (5) people comment on specific blogs, making me a force in social media. A majority of my page views emanate from Facebook, so I can thank Marc Zuckerberg for creating a site to rate the attractiveness of Harvard students and inadvertently creating a great feeder website to my blog.

I really am a self made man. My family rarely reads my blogs at all. This should help to shorten the number of people I have to thank during the acceptance speech I'll have to give once Time Magazine announces me as the 2011 Man of The Year.

You know, this anniversary thing could really get to a guy's head.

Maybe it would be best to get back to some semblance of reality, and begin working on the next blog. However, first I must begin preparing for what I'll say after being awarded a Pulitzer.

Advertising vs. Advertising

Has the world gone mad? AMC just announced that for the first time since 2007, "Mad Men" will not make its season debut in July. In fact, the world will not see the future exploits of Don Draper until March of 2012! For those as devoted to the show as I am, this delay is the pinnacle of a television buzz kill.

I was in denial. Surely, there must be some explanation for this. My gut told me that it must be a contract dispute with the entire cast. We've all seen this before. A show becomes an unexpected hit, wins a few Emmys, and then the cast bands together in solidarity in an "all for one-and one for all" battle with their producers. We saw this with "Friends" and later with "The Sopranos." In the end, everyone got their money.

But this layoff wasn't about actor compensation. This ensemble was fair about their collective worth and negotiated accordingly. I guessed again. Maybe the dispute was over producing credits. Everyone likes the word "producer" on their business card, so the disagreement must be about some of the actors or writers demanding credit for production. I looked around, but saw no signs of Hollywood narcissism. I was starting to run out of logical explanations. So I started on the illogical.

Maybe AMC didn't like the competing voiceovers between Jon Hamm and John Slattery for Mercedes and Lincoln, respectively. Or possibly, they decided that January Jones was just too pretty to be this mean and they had to revamp her character. Wait a minute, I've got it. Showrunner,Matthew , was leaving the show to return to "The Sopranos." Alright, I give up. What's the real reason?

Drum roll, please.

Mad Men, the show about the old world of advertising was in conflict with AMC's new world of advertising. We've all been privy to the show's penchant for product placement and interstitial trivia questions about upcoming spot advertisers. But now they wanted even more time to sell a few more :30 spots in each show. Matt Weiner initially refused, citing fear about the integrity of the program. And talk about a man of principle. He made this claim, even after they signed him to a highly lucrative contract extension.

So the battle for advertising on the show about advertising raged on until a compromise was reached. The network could take back two minutes from the Mad Men's content, so they would have four more commercials to sell each week. This would apply to each episode with the exception of the season premiere and the season finale. There's nothing greater than a story with a happy ending.

This tussle reminded me of that season on "Seinfeld" where Jerry and George had to pitch NBC on "a show about nothing" while Jerry Seinfeld and Jason Alexander were starring in a show about nothing. The whole concept of a show within a show carried Seinfeld for an entire season. So it would be great if "Mad Men" could return the favor and dedicate one episode next season to an ad agency in the 1960's that wants to place an advertiser's commercial on a hit show, but has to wait several months due to a network contract dispute.

Sometimes fiction is stranger than real life.

Groupon Shmoupon

Some people are professionals when it comes to saving money. My Mother is one of the best, and a bit of a traditionalist in this area. She has a scissor with her at all times, and typically goes through the Sunday paper and all its circulars like a farmer cutting her way through overgrown corn stalks with a machete.

Yesterday, she told me about one of her greatest all time triumphs. This win came at the expense of Minute Maid Orange Juice. I came over for a visit on Saturday and craved a little OJ. She asked me to guess how much she paid. I saw that she had 4 cartons in the refrigerator, so it must have been pretty impressive. Before I could even take a stab at it, she offered the answer.

"First, it was on sale at 50% off, then I had a coupon, and Shop Rite was offering triple coupons, so in the end, it cost me 19 cents."

Holy crap. 19 cents?!! Did that include tax? Did she also get an employee discount? Is she a closet shoplifter?

I looked around the room to see if anything had changed. After all, at that price, I could have been transported back to 1951. (I saw "Hot Tub Time Machine", so anything is possible.) I did a quick search, but everything seemed to be in order. Obama was still President and the Mets still sucked.

After hearing this, I wanted to tell my Mother all about Groupon, but it was fruitless. First of all, "Groupon", sounds like something that could be found during your colonoscopy. Secondly, what fun would my Mom have with downloadable coupons? "You go to the computer and you don't cut anything out? You have to use a printer? I'd rather pay full price."

Groupon really takes the fun out of the hunt, doesn't it? All the coupons are in one place. Groupon would singlehandedly remove the need for her regular scavenger mission of searching through a series of local newspapers, circulars, Valpaks, and more to find incredible savings at prices we haven't seen since the Korean War.

A few hours later, while watching television, I saw a commercial for Apple where they were touting all that can be done with iPhone apps. One of the highlights was scanning a bar code at check out with your iPhone to receive a discount. I had to tread lighlty here. This could bring my Mother into the future much too quickly and run the risk of injury.

But I knew better. She wasn't going to change her strategy now. Not after all these years of success. The most amazing part of her coupon finding accumen was not finding the discounts. It's actually making the time to drive to each store for the savings. She has to map out her route in advance. 50% off milk...one mile away(take the backroads) Buy one, get one free toothpaste...two miles (make the first U-turn). Triple coupons...3 miles.(take the highway) All this work, and without a Garmin. This represented real skill. One woman against the elements all in the name of saving cash.

But I couldn't help but think. With the current price of gas, could all this driving reallybe worth it?

It is when you can buy orange juice for 19 cents. Long live the traditional coupon and those who collect them like stamps and baseball cards.

Quiet Please

I am a commuter. But not just any commuter. I'm a New Jersey Transit commuter, which places me in a very unique category. I ride the train to and from work each day, and both trips are relatively short. At least on paper, anyway. The schedule calls for 42 minutes, but you can always tack on an additional 5-10 for a variety of different reasons:

Rain, snow, fallen trees, Amtrak delays, electrical outages, police actions, and of course, the occasional suicide on the tracks.

If this isn't reason enough to make you decide to walk to work, they periodically sting you with multi-year fare hikes. This usually affects riders like a case of bronchitis, particularly when they come to the realization that they'e now paying more money for less than adequate service. Needless to say, the average rider has ample reason to be disgruntled. I even have one friend that forms a personal protest when trains are running behind schedule. When the conductor walks by to check tickets, he removes his monthly pass from his wallet in Super Slo-Mo, giving the delayed train a taste of its own medicine.

So recognizing that they needed a leadership change, NJ Transit lept into action and hired the former President of Amtrak, another dying railroad. In fact, Amtrak hasn't been profitable for years, if ever, and has been fully subsidized by the Federal Government just to merely stay in business. Wow. It sounds like a quality hire to me. I'd like to meet the headhunter.

Nonetheless, I was optimistic. I thought that if we brought in an Amtrak guy, maybe NJ Transit would adopt some of their practices. Like a food car. Or something exciting like a car with blackjack tables, roulette wheels, and poker tables. (A man can dream, can't he?) The new NJ Transit President didn't sit still. He mandated an order for double-decker trains to alleviate some of the crowding, but then built a multi-million dollar transfer station in Secaucus where residents of Bergen County and Central New Jersey can jump on. Now the bi-level train is just as crowded as when it was a single level. One step forward, two steps back.

But if at first you don't succeed, try, try again. The latest "innovation" is the creation of "The Quiet Car." Just what is the Quiet Car? Well, some genius decided that if they can't reduce fares, get the trains to Penn Station on time, or reduce crowding, the least they could do was provide 2 cars with complete silence. (the first and the last) To make this even easier for commuters with mapping issues, they converted the first and last cars on the train to Quiet Cars.

Is this supposed to make up for everything? Is this the NJ Transit version of a dozen roses after you screwed up? They claimed that people asked for this. What people? Perhaps it was the people from NJ Transit. They sat in a meeting and brainstormed a way to reduce the number of customer complaints. Create cars where no one can talk. Brilliant! The conductors love going into these cars, especially on a delayed rush hour train.

What makes this even more shortsighted is that a majority of the entire train has now been relegated to complete silence. This is thanks to the many Blackberrys, Android phones, iPhones, iPads, Kindles, and Nooks that have suddenly appeared. Who has time to talk to anyone, when you could check your Facebook account, text your kids, read a book or play Angry Birds?

What they should do is put all the talkers in one or two cars. Coversationalists are the new minority, so NJ Transit shoud give them a place to vent. It would be pretty noisy, but a great party atmosphere.

NJ Transit has always been in the wrong business. Commuter transportation is not their area of expertise. Maybe one day, the Amtrak President will figure it out, and the trains will only operate as party rentals.

And the noisier, the better.

Unreality Bites

I remember when CD-Roms were all the rage. We'd proudly place those discs in our drives and these CDs quickly became the quintessential computer games of the 1990's. This archaic technology eventually went the way of the dinosaurs and was replaced by the Xbox, the Wii, the Playstation, and voluminous online websites for people who like to refer to themselves as "gamers."

But during the glory days of CD-Roms, one of the more popular creations was a reality game called The Sims. Essentially, you created your own family. You made decisions on their clothing, determined where they would travel, scripted conversations they would have, and even made choices on their schooling and occupations. In this world, you truly played God.

I was given The Sims as a gift once, but never really made it that far. I thought it was nothing more than a big time waster and after all, there was this really cool new dial up service called America Online that I loved exploring, but only after I waited for my dial up signal to make that explosive noise that informed me that I was connected.

So now that we've moved into the new media age, with blazing wireless download speeds, and several options for social media, a new version of The Sims-like technology has taken the world by storm. This is all courtesy of a company called Zynga. Through a relationship with Facebook they are responsible for online games such as Farmville and Cityville which have attracted a countless number of "followers." The popularity of these games moved into the forefront last week as Zynga announced that they were planning on a public stock offering. And the potential evaluation? Several billion dollars!

I asked myself how a company that creates fictitious farms and cities could be valued so high, but then I read more. Zynga made over 400 million dollars in net revenue from people buying items like seeds for their virtual farms. Let me say that again, 400 million!

So we have a shaky economy where people must spend more prudently. And between work, children's soccer and basketball games, ballet lessons, and other social commitments people still found the time and the money to pay for seeds on a farm that doesn't really exist.

For most of us, we struggle daily with just having enough time and energy to deal with the things that matter most. Time with our children, staying in touch with friends, working one or two jobs to make ends meet. While hopefully all along, feeding our hobbies, whether they be softball, fishing, tennis, pottery, dancing, creative writing or whatever drives you. At the end of every week, usually on a Sunday, we say that next week will be different and we'll actually get to these areas of our lives that will make a positive difference. But most of us simply fail again.

Is it possible that we're letting online videogames get in the way? I don't spend nearly as much time on Facebook as many of my friends; especially those who are insistent on telling me where they are all times, which kid just threw up their dinner, or which traffic jam they're immobilized in. But to think that millions of other people still find the time to build computer farms and cities and actually pay for it just blows my mind.

Maybe if we spent more time tending to our kids, our careers, our finances, friends and families, Zynga wouldn't be going public after all. They would just be a fad that would soon be replaced as easily as The Sims was all those years ago.

Sometimes I wonder which truly came first. Did we create Zynga or did they create us?

Baby Food

Do you remember the days when your were expecting your first child, and you went to Barnes and Noble to buy a countless number of baby naming books? Remember how difficult it was? You looked through thousands of names, and narrowed it down to about (5) choices on each side of the potential gender.

Then came the hard part. First, we didn't want to give our kids the same name as our friend's kids. So that knocked a few choices off the list. Next, if you already knew an adult with the same name on your list, and you didn't like them.....well.....those choices were forever doomed. And if you were Jewish, you had the added pressure of selecting a name with the same first initial of someone deceased. How's that for uplifting?

After a few disagreements, you finally settled on a name or two. And it's a lot of pressure. After all, this kid has to live with this moniker for the rest of his/her life. (Marriage can change the surname, but never the first.) Then, you had to worry about whether or not the other kids on the playground would find a way to make fun of your selection. These kids in elementary schools are literary geniuses. They can somehow twist and turn any combination of letters into something incredibly embarrassing and just like that, your kid has to live with it for at least a decade. Personally, I didn't take the brunt of this behavior. The worst I heard was "Adam Madame." I could live with that. It was my last name that fell under attack. "Rowe, Rowe, Rowe your boat...." could be heard near the monkey bars on a regular basis.

Most of us are well past the point of having another child, or perhaps having one at all. But now that I'm older, and just slightly wiser, I realized that our approach to baby naming was off course right from the beginning. We were all looking in the wrong books. We didn't need expensive, and quite heavy baby naming books, especially when we had one in our homes that could have done a more stellar job.

The Zagat book.

Think about it. Many restauranteurs also need to select a name that will be synonymous with strength, quality, and popularity. They derive from a wide variety of nationalities and have already found a positive place in our vernacular. A quick skim through the Zagat's first few pages of top restaurants by cuisine or the best restaurants by neighborhood will easily provide more than enough male and female choices to make you the envy of young parents everywhere.

I could provide endless choices, but I'm only going to highlight a few standouts for a variety of different ethnicities:

FEMALE

Avra - Greek, and somewhat angelic
Oceana - great for nature lovers
Remi - very pretty, and simple
JoJo - playful, and already sounds like a nickname
Aureole - almost has a Disney feel to it
Novita - rolls off the tongue
Pastis- anything French sounds good
Barbetta - very Hollywood

MALE

Nobu - c'mon, who doesn't like Nobu?
Veritas - strong and powerful
Bouley- a name that will get all the girls
Babbo - a little Flintstones, but original
Balthazar - already sounds like a novelist
Pylos - like a Greek God
Tabla - it doesn't rhyme with anything

Now you might ask why on earth would I want to name my kids after anything that reminds me of food, particularly places where I've eaten? But why not? When scores of people look upon these names it can only remind them of the most positive times. Great business lunches, birthdays, anniversaries, retirement parties, holiday parties, and other causes of celebration. How many other names have that kind of equity naturally built in?

I just don't get the same feeling from Ashley, Tiffany, Christopher, and Noah. Most likely, neither will you.

Recalculating

The GPS device was built for men. We never liked to ask for directions anyway, so why not have a computer with full satellite reception lead us around? And it certainly beats looking for the North Star.

Personally, I've always been partial to Garmin over Tom Tom. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's because the natural default voice is female, and I simply never trusted guys named Tom, or people whose first and last names were identical.

But more than anything else, I love the intuitive nature of the device. The Garmin knows where you are at all times. If you program it to bring you from point A to point B, it always constructs the shortest route. And perhaps it's greatest asset is its ability to quickly surmise that you've strayed off course and quickly "recalculates" to get you back on the straight and narrow. It truly is one of the few products I've purchased (more than once) that actually performs as promised.

Now it's time for Garmin to take the next step and move beyond driving directions. We need a GPS device that goes a significant step further. One that guides us through life. It would even be called the Garmin Life. Instead of plugging in street names, or doing searches for the nearest movie theater or gas station, this Garmin would be filled with advice on critical life choices.

So first, you plug in, "Career." A series of alphabetical choices would pull up in a drop down menu- Accountant, Babysitter, Consultant, Doctor.....and all the way down the line until we get to Zoologist. You graduate from college, put on the Garmin Life and pick a career. The Garmin then operates much the same as it does now. It gives you direction, estimates how fast your're traveling down your career "path", and approximates your time of arrival. The user is advised to follow the Garmin as instucted. But if you select the wrong medical scholol, or the wrong company to launch your career, the Garmin reverts back to the all too familiar, "recalculating." and gets you back on course.

There would also be a section for "Real Estate." How many times have we exhaustively searched for that house or condo, onlyto find that we were outbid or were dealing with an unscrupulous broker. Well, not to fear any more. The Garmin Life will follow the trends and search the neighborhoods by satellite, until finally finding you the perfect place to live. It may not even be in the town you thought you would settle in, but it will be close. And the Garmin Life will save you from a real estate buyer's greatest fear - - buying the Money Pit.

The most complex function of the Garmin Life, will be in the "Relationship" section. Similar to some of the more popular or unpopular dating sites, you would have choices for gender, hair color, personality, height, weight, profession, etc. Single people would simply get in their cars and the GPS would take them directly to where their matches are. It could guide you to bars, restaurants, offices, or even to someone's house. Think of the time it would save! If the other party also used a Gamin Lite which ironically lead them to you, then you've got yourself a winner my friends.

The new Garmin Life would also be your guide when deciding on a doctor for all forms of medicine. The "Medical" section would help with finding a good local pediatrician, a dentist, urologist, cardiologist, and surgeon. Thanks to Garmin's online updates, we'll have lifetime intel on malpractice suits, retirements, performance in medical school and more. Even if we get a top referral from a friend who proudly claims that "my guy is the best," the Garmin will recalculate if it knows something that your friend doesn't.

I don't want you to think that I'm not sympathetic to how this device would affect other businesses. It would really kill the fortune teller conglomerates. There would be thousands of palms that would go unread and lifelines gone unidentified. The crystal ball business would crumble and ouija boards would suddenly be all over Ebay.

But like the 8-track tape, the typewriter, and the VCR, there will always be some casualties in the face of growing technology.

The Anti-Social Network

So, if thirty years ago, I told you that people would begin to communicate primarily through their computers, you'd say that I either took Matthew Broderick's "War Games" or George Orwell's "1984" a little too seriously.

If twenty years ago, I said that the second most popular form of communication would occur by telephone, you'd probably sigh with boredom until I told you that it would happen on a phone that wasn't plugged into your wall.

Then, I'd hit you with a real zinger by saying that this wireless phone would actually be used less for the spoken word and more for the written one. This is precisely when you'd promptly suggest that I attend a Trekie convention or Comic-Con.

After decades of these fearless predictions, and sometime in 2011, we'd look back and realize that incredibly, smartphones and other mobile devices have ostensibly become the basic foundation for how we now communicate. And it's not just the devices that matter, it's the distribution systems that are the lifeblood of our modern day communication.

Let's see. We have Gmail, Hotmail, Yahoo Mail, Facebook, Twitter, You Tube and LinkedIn, too name a few. Now, I can show you my vacation through hundreds of pictures and video and never have to tell you about it. I can pass along current information about my life and never have to open my mouth. I can even give you my current location in real time, and let you know how I feel about it, all without ever having to show my face.

The label for this method of communication? Social Media. Social?

When I was a kid, at some point in my parent/teacher conferences, a discussion was had about how I "socialized" with other children. Of course, that always meant face-to-face contact. Currently, being labeled social means that you returned an email within the hour. But never having to see anyone.

Man do we have this backwards. Not everyone's excited about broadcasting every aspect of their experiences. What about about the shy, private, reclusive types that don't feel like sharing their entire lives digitally. They shouldn't be excluded and need a place of their own where they can congregate.

An Anti-Social Network.

These people will have their own website where they can let everyone know where they haven't been. "This month I didn't go to Orlando, Europe, or even into town. In fact, I never left my house." They'd tell you about the dates they never went on, the movies they haven't seen, and all the restaurants they've never been to. Most of these people will probably have cats.

Another great function would be a button where you could periodically de-friend people. As a matter of fact, that would be a major component of this website. Everyone starts with 100 friends and then you'd see how long it takes to get rid of them all. Eventually, they'd turn it into a reality show. Donald Trump would host.

Once per year, all the members of the anti-social network would have a mandatory get-together, face-to-face, and do.......nothing. The website would be the antithesis of Facebook and just be called, "Empty Pages." The web traffic will explode, ad thousands of people would log on, so they never have to log in anywhere else. There wouldn't be a button for "like", just "dislike". The "What's on Your Mind" box would still be present, but it would link directly to a psychiatrist.

I don't know how Marc Zuckerberg missed the boat on this one. I look forward to the IPO.

Please Gong "American Idol"

I really miss Chuck Barris. You remember Chuck Barris, don't you? Creator of both The Newlywed Game and The Gong Show, he was also rumored to be an operative in the CIA. Let's just say, he'd have one of the more interesting resumes on LinkedIn.

But when looking back on a successful career, he will be most remembered for hosting what I consider to the be the precursor and superior version of American Idol - - The Gong Show.

For those who don't remember, the Gong Show had a very simple premise. You competed on stage for a few minutes, performing just about anything you wanted. Singers, dancers, magicians, comedians, musicians, poetry readers, and church choirs, were all fair game. Three celebrity judges would rate your performance on a scale of 1-10 if and only if you made it through your act without one of them grabbing a mallot and smashing a huge gong. This act, of course, signified a general distate for a specific performance or in the a more direct parlance, "You suck."

Chuck Barris was like Ryan Seacrest, with the exception of what seemed like his being on heavy doses of cocaine. (Understandably, this made for a much more charismatic host). Half the fun was in watching Chuck Barris do or say just about anything, and the other half was waiting in anticipation to see if a really bad act would actually find its way around that dreaded gong.

Winners received a nominal cash prize. No record contracts. No national interviews on radio and television talk shows. And you certainly didn't make the national headlines. This was especially true if you won the Gong Show for playing the Star Spangled Banner by whistling your nose hair.

So when Amercian Idol returns every January, I don't watch. I can't. The first four weeks consist of all the horrible acts on the Gong Show that didn't last more than 30 seconds without getting the boot. On American Idol, we have to watch these train wrecks for several minutes. On the Gong Show, these acts would be sprinkled in with others that were actually above average. American Idol makes you watch these tone deaf bastards for one month straight before moving on to anyone that can sing.

If for some reason, you decide to watch through this cold period, you then get to view high end karaoke for the next 20 weeks. Is this really supposed to capture our attention. If I really wanted to watch karaoke, I could find a bachelorette party somewhere in New York City. But let's face it. Who has that kind of time?

As an added bonus, we get to listen to host Ryan Seacrest, who's about as interesting a personality as the guy who died in Weekend at Bernie's. Sometimes he gets to tell the back stories of some of the contestants which all involve someone who used to sing in Church or in a garage rock band who one day dreamed of being on Fox-TV with Simon Cowell. Oh, wait a minute. Simon took off to start another karaoke show. Now you'll have to deal with Steven Tyler, lead singer of Aerosmith.

Is he supposed to be a replacement for Cowell, the Don Rickles of the music industry? And do you really want his opinion on anything? Dream On.

So, here's the cure for American Bile, er, American Idol. Turn it into the Gong Show. If you have to keep the music theme, fine. But let's find judges who know nothing about music at all, and hand them a gong. It would certainly save time. Why do we have to sit and listen to yet another kid doing a Justin Bieber impression for 4 minutes, when they could quickly gong these clowns back to the nearest bus station. Replace Ryan Seacrest with Jim Carrey and now you'd have a show.

Well, Fox would probably never go for it. Gong sounds too much like bong and that might send Steve Tyler back into rehab. But mark my words. This could be the beginning of the end for this evergreen talent contest if they don't make a few tweaks.

I bet, if you asked nicely, you could even get the Unknown Comic to make a comeback.

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

If you ever sat down and made a list of all the things you'd like to teach your children across a lifetime, it would probably resemble the length of the Declaration of Independence.

We all know the basics: "Wear a hat in the winter." "Don't put your hand near the stove." "Brush your teeth." "Look both ways when crossing the street." And who could forget, "Don't take rides with strangers."

These are the easy ones. Minor leagues, really. They were taught to us at an early age when we were at our most impressionable. And through the natural course of daily living, we're fortunate enough to get plenty of practice as parents. Somehow, these incidents seem to present themselves so often that after awhile, our kids can recite the mantras before they even leave our mouths.

After all the standard precautions are out of the way, we move onto a higher level of basic etiquette. "Say you're sorry." "Always say thank you." "When you ask for something, say please." Of course, these are usually less of a slam dunk and could easily go by the wayside. However, at the end of the day, you can sleep at night with the knowledge that you tried to train your kids for the important things in life; even as basic as they are.

We teach the differences between right and wrong and even explain the disparity between good and bad people, as sometimes referred to as "Mensches vs Schmucks". Unfortunately, it's the subcategories that often get forgotten. For me, the eye opener this week happened at Claire's, a costume jewelry store for young girls.

It wasn't the trigger happy ear piercer, or the obnoxious sales clerk. It was someone else that my kids had never experienced before.

THE SHOPLIFTER

My wife first noticed it. A teenager had tucked a pair of earrings in her pocket, and was immediately caught by a very observant sales clerk. She cornered the shoplifter, and asked the cashier to call the police. Our kids were pulled aside from the "crime scene" as they watched with utter amazement that someone would actually try to take something without paying for it.

It was at that moment that I realized that as parents, we never really set aside time to explain the existence of dishonest people in the world. Our kids may have witnessed cheating on a test, or maybe school pranks that end quickly and without permanent harm. However, we never really expose them to....real thieves.

Then the questions begin. "Why did she do that? "What are the police going to do?" "Will she go to jail?" "Could she just say she was sorry?"

The police did eventually arrive, and the kids didn't feel like waiting around to see what the outcome would be. In fact, they didn't even want to do anything else in town. They simply wanted to go home, presumably before they ran into any other shoplifters with inflated pockets.

I told this story to a friend of mine just yesterday, and he mentioned that while inside the mall last week, someone broke the back window of his sport utility to get his mitts on his daugther's iTouch. His kids returned to the car to not only find a missing iTouch, but a hole where the window should be and glass all over their car seats. My friend called the police and his kids finished witnessing their first exposure to theft. He too had to explain his way out of this one while walking on egg shells. He busted out the "some people are poor" card. Then followed up with "maybe his parents didn't teach him the right things to do." It didn't really matter. His kids are still talking about it.

Maybe there isn't a way to ever prepare your kids for people who steal. The unfortunate thing is, it will be all around them for the rest of their lives. It's why the police always have work, and why homes have alarm systems. It keeps security guards in business, and doesn't hurt doormen either. Thievery is like oxygen to Wall Street and a blood transfusion to a used car dealer.

Movies and television can't help us with this kind of education. Somehow "Swiper" from Dora just doesn't have the same impact as real life, especially because he never gets away with it. I guess there may never be a specific way to prepare our kids for the Billy the Kids that reside in our towns, or for that matter in every town. Nobody wants to get robbed. Nobody wants to see a robbery in progress.

So we shelter our kids from the Fagans of the world the best we can. And when they do finally come face to face with someone mean who takes something that doesn't belong to them, we can only hope.

We hope that it's a 9-year old, with a Yankees cap, stealing his first pack of baseball cards.

Observations from 2010

They say you get wiser as you get older, but I think that old adage is somewhat subjective. The jury's still out on me. Nonetheless, I had time to ponder some of the things I've learned over the last year, and decided to put these musings down on paper. So, in no particular order:


Since I walked my dog after the blizzard, I've lost any interest in lemon ices......

When I hear people say Woody and Buzz, I can't tell if they've watching a scene from Toy Story or The Hangover

Over the last 3 years, I've paid enough money to physical therapists to qualify for a time share......

The Wii was only meant for people with little fingers and little hands......

If you get your hair washed by the right shampoo girl, your wife has reasonable grounds to file for divorce.....

We seem to be more worried about bed bugs than terrorists.....

If I keep contributing to 401Ks, IRAs, 529 Plans, life insurance and auto insurance, I should be able to declare bankruptcy sometime around the middle of next year......

These new screening machines at the airport will allow me to get periodic looks at my hip replacement......

They should have sleep away camp for parents.......

I'm waiting for someone to create better medical apps so I can get a colonoscopy from my Ipad......

Conan is funnier when he's being interviewed than when he's interviewing almost anyone else.....

I've grown to trust my car dealer more than real estate brokers, doctors, and Al Qaeda.....

Most waiters make lousy actors, but several actors make good waiters......

Retail clothing stores require the salespeople to wear their merchandise, except for Victoria Secret...and that is truly a travesty...

New Jersey Transit trains should only be used to transport criminals to various prisons.....(wait a minute)

I'll never be able to retire, but at 65 I'm going back to school, and hopefully my parents can take care of me......

When my daughters begin dating, I'm moving out of the house......

People who write blogs should have their heads examined......


HERE'S TO A GREAT 2011.....ANOTHER YEAR OLDER.....AND HOPEFULLY, ANOTHER YEAR WISER.