Daily Ambivalence - big parties that aren't Woodstock

Lots of people say Woodstock was a great party.

I'm not so sure.

When you look at pictures from back then it's kind of hard to see how great the party was because of all the homeless people standing in the way.

The homeless problem must have been pretty severe back then. Which makes sense. I'm no historian, but Woodstock happened a long time ago. The Great Depression happened a long time ago too. I'll bet that's where all the homeless people came from.

But back to my point. Not only do I question that Woodstock was a great party, I wonder if it even happened. Like the moon landing.

I met a guy named Howie who lives in an abandoned trailer 10 miles outside of Wendover who says the government faked Apollo 11 and everything.

Howie even looks like one of those homeless people at Woodstock.

I should ask him what he thought of the party.

Big parties that aren't Woodstock . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - cute girls and not looking at them

I prefer to sit next to unattractive girls. Unattractive girls get that title because they are unattractive.

Breaking down the roots of the word unattractive:

"attractive" means that which attracts, or something that causes your wife to hit you with a frying pan; "un" means the absence of frying pans.

So the absence of frying pans is good. Unless it is morning time and you are in the mood for an old fashioned American breakfast.

I'm crazy about American breakfasts. I don't care that they are greasy and high in cholesterol. In addition, I'm one of those weird people who put ketchup on my eggs and hash browns.

Cute girls probably don't put ketchup on their hash browns.

Cute girls and not looking at them . . . eh.

Pithy things - I'm not as tough as I used to be

For the last few months I have been posting Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. This post will keep that string going, but it is late. Here's why:

Sometimes being polite and considerate is stupid. Last Friday afternoon I identified - being in tune with my body as I am - that one of my molars (#14 as I found out today) was starting to hurt. It was late Friday and I debated calling my dentist and scheduling an appointment. Maybe I'd be fine toughing it out. I mean, how bad could it be?

The answer to that question is - bad.

My dentist has a "please call me on the weekend if you are in pain" policy, but I dislike being an inconvenience to people. So, I hunkered down and put on my "man up" cap. I just started repeating a mantra in my mind - "It's not 48 hours. It's two days."

I did hold out until Monday, but the "manning up" part suffered some major blows.

Late last night after I had called my wife names, asked her to rub my neck or my shoulders and then screamed "Don't touch me there!" and then finally screamed to no one in particular to just cut it out of me, I was in no uncertain terms told that this had been my idea and that I was not giving birth. Which was true. Even though it didn't feel true.

And you know what? My dentist didn't thank me this morning for keeping his weekend intact. He was mad. Seems he's not one of those dentists who wears leather, rides motorcycles, and likes to get eaten by plants named Audrey II.

All of this resulted in me going to an endodontist and getting an old root canal redone.

On the plus side, I broke down and got laughing gas, which was a first.

I can't believe how great laughing gas is. Can you buy it over the counter? You must. Does anybody know which aisle in Costco they sell the nitrous oxide?

Daily Ambivalence - incomplete sentences

freaking serious writer

Serious writers use incomplete sentences for many reasons.

To stress a point.

To make the prose seem to move faster.

At this point in today's Daily Ambivalence you should be laughing uproariously because I incorporated two incomplete sentences into the structure.

Only I suspect you aren't laughing. And that is because incomplete sentences are no laughing matter. Like Black Death or Russell Howard.

To prove my point that incomplete sentences are no laughing matter I point to the fact that you are not laughing.

Not circular logic.

Not false logic.

Recognized truth.

Incomplete sentences . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - turning a page

Turning a page can be a metaphor for momentous decisions you sometimes make in life.

It can also be what happens when you come to the word at the bottom right of an open book. Unless you're Japanese.

I don't like the phrase "turning a page" because both uses connote a change of some sort.

When I was 10 years old my favorite television program was Gilligan's Island. But then it went off the air. That is change.

And really, if the fates wanted to rectify this injustice lost in the fabric of time it would be impossible. Gilligan, Skipper, Thurston, and Lovey all have passed on to the other side.

Too many farm girls going bad.
Not enough to go around. Here is a man
who died of a broken heart.

You don't even have to stoop to listing tombstones. Change wormed itself well inside the dynamic of the poor castaways long before any of them discarded their mortal coil. Remember in the 90s when Gilligan got busted for marijuana possession and then it came out that Mary Ann was his supplier? It's sad when farm girls go bad.

That's change.

Does change sound good to you? Of course it doesn't.

Turning a page . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - people with Boston accents

Half the children in Turkmenistan
work in this particular factory

My favorite kind of saltwater taffy is a tossup between cinnamon and peppermint. It's surprising to me that the international corporation responsible for making saltwater taffy even makes other flavors.

I don't think having a Boston accent would make a difference as to what flavor of saltwater taffy you preferred. I'm confident it would be cinnamon or peppermint. I'd stake my life on that.

People with Boston accents . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - migraine headaches

I think migraine headaches hurt.

This occurred to me the other day when I was having a migraine.

Let's be honest. He'd get his butt
kicked by anyone with real
super powers.

Don't you think it would be better if migraine headaches gave you a super power? I wouldn't even mind if the super powers migraine headaches gave you were lame, like super smell or utility belts.

Just so long as migraine headaches didn't hurt. That would be the key.

My superhero name would be BooNoon or Gern Blanston. Or maybe even Gert Jonny. I can't decide.

Migraine headaches . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - notes in my notebook that I didn't write

Mitches Dads Din Din

Exhibit A

I just turned the page on my notebook and there written in bold pen it says Mitches Dads Din Din.

No proper use of apostrophe to show possessive. Not written in my hand. Not even close to sloppy enough.

I'm not exactly sure who wrote this micro-missive.

I suppose it could have been my daughter jotting down a reminder of an upcoming dinner date.

Yet, there is an east wind blowing in Utah today, stirring my hair. And that's weird because I'm sitting in an office.

Something ominous about that note. Something that suggests I should interpret it with a cannibalistic flair.

Dude, if you're reading this and you have a son named Mitch, watch your back.

I'm good though. All I have are a Tanner and a Scott.

Notes in my notebook that I didn't write . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - NASCAR racing

You know the whole beef against +NASCAR racing.

Left turn. Left turn. Left turn. Left turn.

I, for one, am glad NASCAR racing is centered around left turns.

If you remember, Lieutenant Dan from +Forrest Gump lost both his legs in Vietnam. I always imagine that Lieutenant Dan was left-handed because he has long hair for the last half of the movie. People with long hair are typically creative types, and creativity is traditionally linked with the right half of the brain, which is the foundation for left-handed people being the only people in their right mind joke.

So when I think of NASCAR racing I think of Lieutenant Dan who might have been left-handed. And since Lieutenant Dan lost both his legs in the +Vietnam War I think of veterans. I am thankful for veterans and thinking about veterans makes me feel patriotic.

NASCAR racing make me feel patriotic.

But it is kind of loud, and I don't know if Lieutenant Dan liked NASCAR racing.

NASCAR racing . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - tattoos on your neck

I don't mean that tattoo

So I'm sitting down at a tire store and there's that guy over there with a tattoo on his neck.

The tattoo is low on his neck so if he was to wear a collared shirt he could hide the fact that he has a tattoo on his neck. Only, this guy looks like the kind of guy who would get beat up by his friends if they caught him wearing a collared shirt.

I wonder why he would choose friends who would beat him up in the first place? That guy should probably choose better friends so he can wear collared shirts, or maybe even get a tattoo on his face so he doesn't have to worry about what he wears.

I should probably tell him.

Tattoos on your neck . . . eh.

Daily ambivalence - proper tire inflation

I've always had a hard time understanding what +Donald Duck says when he talks. I suspect a lack of proper tire inflation played a part in this.

Back in the 1930s, the correlation between proper tire inflation and improved gas mileage was poorly understood. This was about the time +Walt Disney was looking for voice talent to use in his fledgling company.

Nowadays Disney searches the world over for the best soon-to-be-tabloid-fodder teenagers available, but back then Walt wasn't rich and he didn't understand the importance of proper tire inflation so he was always running out of gas. The result of this was that his search radius for voice talent those first few years was a half-block radius in west Anaheim. Donald Duck was first voiced by a homeless guy named Sven. By the time someone good was affordable the template was set.

So nobody can understand Donald Duck.

I seldom watch Disney cartoons though.

Proper tire inflation . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - killing zombies

The scariest zombie in the middle, of course.
The last bullet your saving? You see that guy,
you use it.

The movies make killing zombies seem ultra cool and something most people would congratulate you for doing. Head shots seem to be all the rage.

Likewise for vampires and driving stakes in their heart or werewolves and silver bullets.

In the movies it is always the hero who kills these monsters and the audience applauds.

I took care of a werewolf, a vampire, and 3 zombies right on my porch the other night and all of my neighbors are mad.

I hate Halloween.

Killing zombies . . . eh.