Road Trip in the USA

Road Trip, Y'all

This past week, the wife, kids and I took a road trip up to my moms' house in Big Rapids, Michigan.  It was a very nice trip full of relaxation, day beers and food, sleeping and showering and lazing around.  So it was a lot like home, just a few hundred miles north of normal.  The drive up there and back is a decent one, better than going to Wisconsin, that's for sure.  I've decided that Indiana isn't the worst state to drive through anymore.  Illinois is much worse, having now driven through each a few times.  Illinois is very flat and boring. Indiana has a few hills, a few more towns, but is still pretty boring.  The ride home was a bit more shitty because my data from AT&T got throttled sometime this week so I couldn't stream music from my phone.  Not the biggest deal in the world, but not making things easier.

The best thing I found on our drives was our stops.  On the way up, we stopped at a McDonald's in the South Bend area and on the way home we stopped at a Hardee's in the (Oh I don't know) middle of Indiana area.  At both places I saw an interesting phenomena.  Breakfast Clubs.  Does every fast food restaurant in America have these people?  These folks that turn up at the crack of dawn every day to shoot the shit about the boringness of their lives and their towns?  It happens everywhere!  All these old-timers get together and eat fatty food and drink mediocre coffee.  I suppose it's an easy and cheap way to stay social, so I guess I can't knock them for having friends.  Meeting at a fast food place seems convenient, I suppose.  I don't know, it just seems like they all got a memo or something.

In particular, I want to talk about our amazing stop at the Hardee's in god-knows-where Indiana Friday morning.  My phone wouldn't connect to any network for no goddamn good reason, so I wasn't able to actually look at a map so see where we were, but it really didn't matter.  This could have been anywhere in the USA.  It was so perfect.

We sat at an empty table near the front of the restaurant.  I went up and ordered, and I was tempted to ask the local next to me where exactly we were.  I assumed he was local by the work clothes and beard.  After careful consideration, I decided I didn't want to have a conversation with this man, and like I said, it didn't matter where we were, it all looked familiar anyway.  I got food for me and the daughter and sat down and started to eat.  That's when one old man, two old man, three old man four old man start to sit in the tables near us, progressively filling in the area closer and closer to where we sit.  Next around the corner comes fifth old man, and he realizes he doesn't have a place to sit in what I can assume is their regular spot because there's me and my family.  None of the old men seemed to bothered by our presence, but you could also feel that we were in their spot.  No harm done there, but I just found it fun that these old men had routine and we were messing with it.

There were two other patrons in this Hardee's that caught my attention.  A younger looking man and woman, perhaps in their thirties.  They looked like every man and woman who is either a regular or an employee of every dive bar in every small town in America.  The dude had on a leather coat, had big gold hoops in his ears, military buzzcut hair-do, jeans.  He looked like he was in shape at one point in his life, and still was not bad, physique-wise.  He probably plays guitar in an "alt-metal" cover band.  The girl he was with had on the tight, low-waisted jeans with the jewels on her ass pockets, tight white tank top that showed the cleavage.  Short girl, a-line bob haircut that was dyed an unnaturally consistent dark color that I'm 99% sure was done in her bathroom sink.  Beer gut.  Not unattractive, yet certainly no model.  I felt sort of at home around these two, even though I was no where near them and even though none of my friends or even acquaintances looked particularly like them.  They looked like they belonged at Rookies in Negaunee.  I feel like I've seen them before.  I sort of found it odd that these bar patrons were out getting breakfast at 6:30 am on a Friday, but hey, maybe it was a long night of But Light drinkin'?

The whole thing, the breakfast club old guys and the party time thirtysomethings, it all reminded me that no matter where you are, no matter what time of day it is, people are the same everywhere you go.  I find something comforting in that fact.

Other random observations from the road, we noticed that there are a lot of towns in Indiana named after places you'd rather be other than in Indiana.  Places like Nashville, Kokomo, Plymoth, Warsaw, Peru, Austin, Underwood, Columbus.  Anywhere but Indiana.

I also saw an amazing mullet in Kentucky.  Shocker, I know.

But overall, the drives were okay.  They sucked, but they were okay.  The kids handled it like champs.  The wife, who couldn't sleep because of the position of her seat because of car seats, handled it like a champ.  It was a wonderful trip, and I can't wait to do it again.  And you better believe I'll be stopping for breakfast.

You Don't Need To Understand.

Planking is like Apple Jacks cereal.  Apple Jacks don't taste like apples, but the kids don't care, they just like it anyway and the people that don't get it try to figure out why the people that do like it, like it.  It makes me feel equally smug and stupid to know that "planking" is nothing new, it's just new to the general public.  Some people get it, some people don't.  What's to get?  Nothing.  There is nothing to get from planking. Yet some people will try to figure it out, and when they don't get it, they will feel left out, and then say it's stupid. Yes, planking is fucking stupid.  That's sort of the point, I believe.

I first heard of "planking" (this is where I feel smug) back in 2009, before it was cool, before everyone was doing it.  Only when I heard of it, it was just called the "laying down game."  From what I understood, you lay down face down in what would appear to be an uncomfortable position, or perhaps even a very unusual place to be laying face down,  and then have someone take a picture of you doing it.  That's it.  Why?  Why not?  So when people are still doing it two years later, now it's "the stupidest thing ever," because you tried to figure out why these people, perhaps even friends of yours, are laying face down in pictures.  There is no fucking reason.  If someone gives you a reason, they're bullshitting you.

I knew that this would happen, maybe not with "planking" but in general.  This is how it works, okay?  The internet comes up with something stupid that makes a few people laugh, then it makes other people laugh because the original people that laughed at it shared the lulz with their friends.  Eventually the idea gets shared around enough that it makes it into the general population, every day life, and someone will not understand what makes it so funny to everyone.  Most people won't get it.  They just don't get stuff.  Is planking stupid?  You bet.  Is it funny?  Absolutely.  I think the people that rally against planking are just as stupid as the people doing it but the only difference is that the people doing it are doing it to make someone (even if it's themselves) laugh.  The person that hates it does so because he or she doesn't get it.    They say "but it's stupid!"  Yes, that is the point.  It's fucking stupid and weird and unusual to see someone laying inside of a jet propeller.  End of story.  End of blog post, too. 

What Does Your Favorite Color Say About You?

I believe a persons favorite color says a lot about who that person is, what they tend to think about, and what kind of person they view themselves in the fabric of society.

For instance, as you may notice by visiting this blog that my favorite color is orange.  I don't know why, but I like orange.  If there is an orange option for stuff, I choose the orange.  And I'm only talking about real colors here, like the main six.  None of these made-up colors Crayola came up with, like Razzmatazz or whatever.  Also, United Nations Blue is an actual color.  I'm talking about Blue, Yellow, Red, Green, Orange and Purple.  Okay, pink, too.  No one's favorite color is black or white, so those are out, too.  Also, technically black isn't a color, it's a shade...Oh I'm not getting into it, goddamnit.

My favorite color is orange, as I stated above.  I believe people like me choose to like orange because it's different.  It's the underdog of favorite colors.  No one picks orange unless you want to pick the unique color. That's me.  I love the underdog.  I will watch a Pirates v Nationals game before watching any Yankees v Red Sox game.  That sort of thing.  I believe everyone who likes orange falls into this category, just like me.

What about Red?  Red is often associated with anger and charging bulls.  Red is nice, it was probably my favorite color when I was 8, if I remember correctly.  But I believe that people that like red are the sort of mainstay types, people who wouldn't ever change the color they prefer, but also know that what they like is bold.  In a world of black and white and tan and beige and silver cars, the red car is still very popular color.  It just pops out against the other cars around it.  It's bold, but not too bold.  Red is sort of sexy, in that red dress sort of way.  Red is blood, so there's the violence aspect in there.  It's beautiful and powerful.

What if you like Yellow?  I think that sort of falls into the same category of orange.  Not many people say that yellow is their favorite color, but I'm sure there are a few out there.  It's an underdog color as well, but it's a bit more mainstream due to it being a primary color.  Every time I think of yellow, I just think of how it doesn't show up well against white because they're both so light shaded.  No one used yellow to color with as kids because you couldn't see it on the white paper.  Yellow is the left out, yet very important piece of the color spectrum, just like the people who's favorite is yellow.

Blue is everyone favorite color.  If you like blue, you drive a Toyota, eat boneless skinless chicken breast for dinner and go to bed early.  You drink Folgers.  You're favorite band is whatever is on the radio.  You're favorite movie is Pirates of the Caribbean.     You fucking _love_ time clocks.

Green is for envy, or so they say.  M&M's have made a decent marketing campaign around the green ones being like an afrodisiac.  Green is everywhere, and you don't every really notice how often it is used.  It's also been used as a verb to say something doesn't cause pollutants.  It's a quick way to say "environmentally friendly."  If you like green, you like love and stuff.  Green is for the people who would normally like yellow if you could have painted with it on white paper. You couldn't, so you used green instead.

Purple is for girls.  I don't know.  Grape Kook-Aid. Um, yeah I don't know what to say about purple.  Nothing rhymes with it.  I don't know, purple looks cool with other colors, so maybe if you like purple, you like the company of others?  Let's go with that.

Pink is for girls and douchey guys who think it's manly to wear pink, like it's fucking 2006 over here.  We got it back then, dude.  Pink is stylish and hip and new and fresh.  Now it's played out.  If you wear a pink shirt, you're obviously just saying to everyone "Look, I can wear pink!  I know it's not totally stupid looking on me because I don't care if pink is associated with girls.  I can rock a pink shirt."  No dude, you can't.  You are an obvious toolbag.  Take off that stupid shirt.  You are a douche.  Believe me, I'm not one to use a color as a  gender stereotype, but when a dude wears a pink shirt, he's making a statement.  I could wear a pink shirt because I know I like to have sex with girls, therefore I know I'm not a cross dresser wearing a pink shirt.  I could do that, but I don't have to.  Why bother making that statement.  You look like an idiot who was dressed by your girlfriend.  I could wear that, but I won't.  Never did.  You are not stylish, you are a douchebag.


So that's it, right?  Is it over?

N is for Names

Now that we have let Saturday's post sink in a little, I discovered a website that puts what I was trying to say in a much better, and funnier way.  It's called Stupid Kid Names, and can be found here.  Go there and laugh at stupid people who name their kids stupid names like Kenzyngtyn, for Christ's sake...

What I wanted to talk about is shortening of peoples names.  People with normal names, and some with the unusual names as well, will often shorten them to make it easier to talk about them.  Less syllables is just easier, generally accepted and preferred way to address people. Sometimes it's not even a shortening, it's more of a common nickname for people with that name, although that seems to not be as prevalent these days, it's still true a lot of the time.

For example, people named Robert are often called Bob, for some reason.  People named Richard are called Dick.  People named Charles are called Chuck. People named William are called Bill. Why?  I honestly don't know.  I'm sure there is a reason, as there is a reason for everything.  I could look it up, but I'll just wonder aloud with you all reading along.  But nearly everyone who has a multiple-syllable name has it shortened down to one.  Hell, my given name is Bradley, but I've always been called Brad.  Jeffery, David, Christopher, Steven (or Stephen), Thomas, Michael, Timothy, Andrew, Albert and Patrick are all very common names that are very often shortened to one syllable by just about everyone I've ever known with these names.  Also, Bethany is often shortened to Beth. My wife's name is Bethany, and she goes by Bethany.  Who the Hell is Beth?

Some people have a hard time accepting when someone wants to go by their full name.  It's an interesting phenomenon.  (I just spelled phenomenon correctly on the first try, +2 points to me)  Some people catch on right away, when you see the name written down on someone you just met, and it says his name is Timothy, so you automatically call him Tim.  He might correct you saying something polite like "I usually go by Timothy."  Okay, enough said.  No problem.  I will call you Timothy.  Sometimes you don't have the luxury of asking, so you just go by what others call that person.  You pick up on the cues of others and learn what they go by.  Someone always refers someone you work with as David, you call that person David until he says "just call me Dave or D.J."  I always default to the accepted shortened name unless told otherwise.

But some people just have a hard time accepting that someone goes by their full name.  I have friends, good friends, who will forever refer to my wife as Beth.  "Is Beth coming too?"  "...Yes, she is." I say in return.  Because I understand how some people feel about it.  They're so used to defaulting to the common shortened version that using the full version is just uncomfortable.

It's all about picking up on clues from the people around you.  It's okay to call someone by their full name if they're not used to it.  If they really hate it, they'll tell you.  Some people at my current job (like my supervisor) call me Bradley all the time, because I never told them to call me anything else.  It's strange, because I would have thought they would have defaulted to my common shortened name, but they didn't.  It's the first time in my life I've been called Bradley more than Brad.

I don't know, just a thought.