Happy Birthday Cameron!

Today is my baby's 15th birthday! I feel incredibly old. However, considering my parent's "baby" is 47 years old, I guess I shouldn't feel so bad. For every negative, there is a positive. For instance, this week I realized that one good thing about a recession is that you can ALWAYS get a great parking spot at the mall.

When Alex and Cameron were born, I began saving the newspaper from their birthdays. In honor of Cameron's 15th, I thought it would be fun to pull out the Free Press and the Canton Observer I saved from February 27, 1994 to see what was happening in 1994.

Headline News

On the day Cameron was born, the closing ceremonies for the 1994 Winter Olympics in Lillehammer, Norway were taking place. Athletes who were in the news included Nancy Kerrigan and Tonya Harding (remember the knee blowout at Joe Louis that year?). Nancy won a silver medal in figure skating, 16-year old Oksana Baiul won the gold, and Tony Harding cried about her skate lace coming undone and asked for a re-do of her routine. Speed skater Dan Jansen had a dramatic finish in one of his races and won a gold medal. Atlanta was now preparing to host the 1996 summer games.

The Davidians were found guilty of manslaughter, as opposed to murder for the death of four federal agents after a 51-day standoff with cult leader, David Koresh, in Waco, Texas in 1993. Seventy-nine people died in a fire that ensued after the government bombed the cult with tear gas.

On the local home front, Detroit Police Chief Isaiah McKinnon was investigating the finances of the Detroit Police Department. Electronic equipment had gone missing, as well as documentation for personal service contracts that cost the city hundreds of thousands of dollars. Sadly, not much has changed for the city of Detroit.

Detroit was about to host a jobs summit and California businessman, William Bridges, wrote a commentary on the status of jobs in America. He said "jobs are disappearing and being replaced by part-time, temporary, and contract positions." He predicted that jobs, as we know them, are no longer suited to meet the needs of the times. Twenty-five years from now, most people won't have jobs. They'll be hired, trained and paid to do whatever needs doing, and then let go.

Mayor Dennis Archer met with the Tiger Stadium Fan Club to discuss renovating the stadium for $30 million. Tiger owner, Mike Ilitch, had his own plans to build a new stadium using $175 of his own money, while hoping to generate $200 million in public funding.

Canton News

Groundbreaking on the Summit was about two months away with a projected opening of August 1995.

Homes in Sunflower Village, The Fairways, and Royal Pointe were still being built and available for sale from the mid $180s in Sunflower up to the mid $240 for the Fairways.

The weekly Observer had six full pages of want ads, many of them looking for secretarial or administrative help with Word Perfect or word processing skills.

Business

Stock prices for Chrysler, Ford, and General Motors were 56, 61-1/2, and 58-1/4. Crowley's department store was struggling to make a comeback, and Hudson's was still Hudson's! You could buy a 1994 Grand Cherokee Laredo 4 x 4 for $22,188, a 1994 Chrysler minivan for $13,873, and a 1994 Crown Vic for $17,295. A lease on a 1994 Jimmy would cost you $349 per month.

Atlanta-based Home Depot was opening their first mid-west store in Pontiac, on Telegraph. Five stores in the state were to follow later that year in Canton, Redford, Northville, and Warren.

The Free Press/Detroit News want ads in the Sunday edition consisted of 23 full pages of ads. Many of them looking for engineers, designers, and CAD employees. You could get a 30-year fixed mortgage for 7.35%.

An article about the boom of "email" included a description of what email was as "sending electronic messages." Can you imagine, they had to include a description because it was still unfamiliar territory.

Entertainment

The Grammy nominations featured new bands on the horizon like Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam, Snoop Doggy Dog and Dr. Dre, Nirvana, and Stone Temple Pilots.

Billy Ray Cyrus was playing at the Palace. Miley was only what, maybe two years old?

Movies at the theater included The Getaway with Alec Baldwin and Kim Bassinger, Ace Ventura Pet Detective with Jim Carrey, Body Snatchers, Disney's Blank Check, Angie with Geena Davis, China Moon with Ed Harris and Madeleine Stowe, Schindler's List with Liam Neeson, In the Name of the Father with Daniel Day Lewis, The Piano with Anna Pacquin, and Reality Bites with Winona Ryder, Ben Stiller and Ethan Hawke.

Rosie O'Donnel was starring in Grease on Broadway, Marie Osmond was starring in the Sound of Music, and Greg Kinnear was the host of E!.

Oscar nominees included films like Philadelphia, Remains of the Day, Schindler's List, and What's Love Got to Do With It?

On TV, some of our favorite shows included Evening Shade, Fresh Prince of Belair, Blossom, Murphy Brown, Northern Exposure, NYPD, Roseanne, Dr. Quinn--Medicine Woman (never saw it), The Nanny, 90210, Full House (with those little Olson twins), Melrose Place, Wings, Seinfeld, Frasier, Mad About You (whatever happened to Helen Hunt?), and Matlock (my mom's favorite).

Sports

The Red Wings were in first place in their division, two points over Toronto. Chris Osgood had just had his second shutout in a row and some of his teammates included Darren McCarty, Dino Ciccarelli, Shawn Burr, and Sergei Federov. The Pistons were in last place 25 games back of Atlanta. The Tigers roster consisted of Cecil Fielder, Lou Whitaker, Alan Trammell, Travis Fryman, Tony Phillips, Mickey Tettleton, Shecter Barnes, John Doherty, Eric Davis, Lance Parish, Mike Moore, Bill Gullickson, and David Wells. Personally, I never heard of half of those people. But what do I know.

Advertisements

In the weekly Target flyer, you could find a 25" Zenith TV for $299 and a VCR for $199. The only video games available were for the Genesis system and they included Sonic, Mortal Kombat, and Madden.

Portable CD players were available for $119.98. I used to have one that I would listen to while I walked on the treadmill. Thank God for Ipods, huh?

At Best Buy, you could purchase a Packard Bell Computer with 340 MB hard drive, 4MB memory, a printer, and a 14" screen all for $1,498. A Toshiba notebook with a 9.5" display screen, 120 MB hard drive, and 4MB memory would cost you $1,596.

Other deals of the week included VCR tapes for $1.99 each and Kodak Film! Do they even make film anymore?

Stores such as Fretter's Appliances and Frank's Nursery still had ads in the paper.

When I looked back at these newspapers today, all I could say was "wow, wow, wow." It's amazing how so much has changed, and yet very little has really changed. There is still war going on in the Middle East and Detroit is still a mess.

On the plus side, however, Cameron is sleeping through the night (morning and afternoons too while on mid-winter break), he can now drive in addition to feed himself, and he can now pick me up off the ground as opposed to me picking him up.

Happy birthday, Cameron. I shudder to think how fast the next 15 years are going to go. Soon, I may only be able to save an electronic edition of your birthday newspaper. We'll probably look back and think, "people used to get an actual paper?"

Machine of the Moment

In the 90's it was the bread machine. Needed it, wanted it, had to have it. And so Ed complied and bought me a bread machine for my birthday. Mmmmm.....waking up on a Sunday morning with the smell of fresh bread wafting through the house was heavenly. It was probably the "toast" of the town (ha, ha...get it?) for at least six months. Then it must have become too labor intensive for me. After all, for goodness sakes, I did have to measure out flour, sugar, salt, and yeast and dump it in the darn thing. Who's got time for that? Okay, so what if it kneads the dough itself, works on a self timer, and practically cleans itself. I still have to pull it out of the pantry!

In the 80's, prior to the bread machine, I had to have the Epilady. This was a torture device women used to yank hair out of their legs, rather than shaving it. The concept behind it was that by pulling the hair out of the follicle, it would take longer for it to grow back and eliminate razor stubble. The contraption consisted of a hand-held vibrating machine that consisted of black rubber tubing with slits in it. When you touched the Epilady to your leg and ran it up and down, hair would get in between the slits in the black tubing and the vibration would cause it to be ripped out. The commercial showed the woman running this device up and down and around her leg, all the while smiling. All I remember is Ed laughing at me because each time I used it there was no smiling, only cussing and wincing. But, I asked for it, so dammit, I was going to use it. At some point I remember thinking, "what are you doing?" and secretely threw it away.

Then, when we reached the new millenium, I asked for a sewing machine. Why, I don't know. I guess I thought it would be fun to make curtains or something. My sister, Maria, has always been able to sew thanks to classes she took in the 7o's called "Stretch and Sew." She and my mom went berserk and started making all of their clothes and mine. Granted, at the time it was cool. But when I look back at some of the stuff, it's a wonder my dad didn't buy stock in polyester material. She has since redeemed herself by making some pretty cute Halloween costumes for herself and her kids when they were little. I have used the sewing machine to fix the occasional hem, and I actually did make some valances for the kitchen, once. Don't be looking for me on Project Runway anytime soon, however.

I'm happy to say that I'm not the only one that craves the "machine of the moment." When Ed and I returned from Paris in 1999, Ed was in love with espresso and for Christmas that year, I gave him an espresso machine and some teeny tiny cups to go with it. For the next year he got his fill of caffeine. Fortunately, we already had a coffee bean grinder thanks to that must-have moment in the late 80's.

Over the course of our marriage, there have been several other contraptions or inventions that we thought for sure we would use religiously. These included the thigh master, the stair stepper, and the super-duper weight-lifting set he bought from our neighbor, Keith. Sucker!

In November, my mom made a trip to the emergeny room on a Saturday night/Sunday morning. While I was sitting in the room with her at 4:00 a.m., we watched the most incredible infomercials on TV. Each one was filled with one testimony after another and endless trial runs of the products. I found it to be like an addiction and could see how some people go haywire when it comes to purchasing stuff demonstrated on TV.

Fortunately, we've grown wiser with old age. We never did buy a George Foreman grill, a panini maker, or a juicer. Instead, we opted for the Scunci steam cleaner.

Tidbits

Hello my little followers. In case anyone reads this and has missed me, apologies for not writing in a couple of days. Some days I just don't have anything to say (although Ed and the boys would beg to differ). The boys are on mid-winter break and I have been enjoying some time off from the usual routine. I actually stayed awake until 10:50 p.m. and almost saw an entire episode of "Medium" without the use of a DVR. So close!

On Saturday I secretly wished that all the people going somewhere warm for mid-winter break got stranded at the airport (due to the snow) since I wasn't going anywhere. Oh, like you never did that!

On Sunday, of course, I watched the Oscars and the all the Red Carpet hoopla. Aunt Mary and I watched the preshow stuff and kept switching back and forth between E! (with Ryan Seacrest) and TV Guide Network (with Joey Fatone and Lisa Rhinna). Holy cow. Lisa Rhinna and all her lips were scary looking! I felt kind of embarrassed for Joey and Lisa. Every time we flipped over to their channel, they didn't seem to have any big stars to talk to. For awhile they spent time talking about how crowded it was and described the hedges they were standing next to. Lucky Anne Hathaway getting to be on stage with Hugh Jackman. He is yummalicious. Towards the end of the show, Aunt Mary and I couldn't even remember who won the first award for supporting actress. We're pathetic.

Yesterday I actually ventured outside to the mall. Ed, Cameron, and I headed out for something to do. The sun felt wonderful, even though it was still a bit on the nippy side. I don't think I've been to a mall since before Christmas. Every stored we ventured into was absolutely dead, except for the Apple store. Lots of people looking at Iphones, Ipods, and Macs. Cameron has his permit now and he drove us there via the expressway. I had to ride in the back and I didn't like it at all. I had no perception as to how "we" were doing. I've decided that from now on I prefer to feel out of control in the front seat. The picture of Cameron above was taken in Florida. I just remember saying "please, whatever you do, do not touch the car" for fear that some super sensitive alarm would go off and we would be escorted off the premises.

Ed has ventured off to work for several days now, including this afternoon. Just in time, too. He was starting to get on my nerves with his constant house cleaning. I couldn't walk through the kitchen because he was polishing the floor. Couldn't concentrate on writing because he was running the vacuum. Couldn't sit on the couch because he kept fluffing the pillows. I know, he's wonderful and every woman's dream. But he's been doing so much housework around here that last night I had a dream that he was vacuuming up all the snow in the backyard.

Friday is Cameron's birthday. He will be 15! I remember hoping that I'd go into labor all on my own. Alex was two weeks overdue and I had to be induced (way to go Alex!). Cameron was a few days overdue and I thought I'd be going the same route with him as I did Alex. Being overdue with a baby can make you crabby. I still remember Aunt Mary calling me to see what was going on. Back in the day, I didn't have caller ID . I'd answer the phone and she'd bust into song with Paul Anka's "havin' my baby....". Click.

Time to wrap this up and head out to do my patriotic duty and stimulate the economy. I'm taking Cameron birthday shopping. Til next time....

Agony of D'ese Feet

You know that saying "clothes make the man"? Well, for me, it's really more like "shoes make the man." I'm a shoe person. Not in the sense that I have a lot of shoes. As representative of the Filipino race, Imelda Marcos would be disappointed in me. I practically live in four types/pairs of shoe. Pretty much from fall to spring, when I venture outside, it's my Ugg boots. If I'm inside, it's my Ugg slippers (what can I say--Ugg's are so comfortable!). Nike running shoes when I'm on my treadmill, and during spring, summer and early fall you'll only find me in flip flops.

The older I get, the more low maintenance I like my life to be. Who's got time to tie and untie shoes? I like to think that I'm not lazy, just practical and efficient. It's probably my way of rebeling against working in an office prior to becoming a stay-at-home mom.

When Ed and I met on our blind date, the first thing I looked at were his shoes. I had already seen pictures of his face prior to the date, so from that perspective, he was good. Fortunately, I approved of his shoes and there was a second date! When I went to church as a young girl, I would sit at the end of the pew and look at people's shoes as they walked up to communion and listen to the clickety-clackety noises they made on the tiled floor. Back in those days, practically every woman wore high heeled shoes to church and the men wore wingtips.

What I love about the photo above are the stories behind these cleats. The long practices, hot summer games, and wins and losses they have endured. I believe that our personal possessions speak volumes about us and our lifestyle choices. Prior to breaking my ankle in two places and having it put back together with two plates and eight screws, you would have found me in the occasional high heeled shoe or cute strappy wedge. Since then, it seems as if I've lost my grace and confidence. I mean seriously, if I'm wiping out at Kroger's in my winter boots, can you imagine what might happen in heels?

When I was a kid, searching for shoes to wear with my uniform was always a depressing jaunt for me. I couldn't even go shoe shopping at the mall. Nope. I had to go to some special shoe store for the big footed. I had flat, wide feet. There certainly weren't as many choices in life back then as there are now. I'd fall in love with a cute pair of Mary Janes only to find out you had to have a teeny tiny slim fitting foot to even think about them. I think there was only one style of E width shoe available and it was called "ugly." These days, I believe a six-month old baby has more shoe choices than I did when I was 10.

There was a time in my life when I would choose fashion over function. Not anymore. It is fun however, to watch others who haven't made that switch in life yet. They remind me of Monica Geller from "Friends." Remember, she bought those uber-expensive boots and forced herself to wear them, even though they destroyed her feet? To see what I'd look like in high heels, check out this video link of model runway wipe outs.

http://technorati.com/videos/youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DFFo_hyEAmHw

Awash in Commercials

Can you believe it's been 10 years since we've started seeing all those commercials for erectile dysfunction? Seems more like 100. I remember when they first came on TV and I thought "what did he just say?" The boys were seven and five years old. Nothing like trying to distract the kids during a commercial break so you don't have to explain the use of that drug in a 90 second span.

Well, now the latest commercial is for women who worry about unplanned pregnancy. They can now ask their doctor about a procedure called Essure. When I heard this commercial I thought "what did she just say?" I don't know if it's just me, but ummmm, can anyone else see a connection here? What do you suppose is going to happen if someone is having a daily drug-induced erection? I'm thinking it could lead to some unplanned pregnancies!

There does seem to be a commercial for a pill or procedure for just about any condition these days. Conditions you didn't even know existed. Conditions that no one is too embarrassed to discuss. Like, an overactive bladder, bad breath, bad gas, an overactive appetite, the inability to get it up and keep it up and then the inability to think ahead about birth control. Conditions that make you cover your ears and scream "la, la, la, la....I can't hear you." For each one of these conditions is a commercial that makes you stop and say "what did they just say?" Ed and I still don't understand the connection, however, between erectile dysfunction and two people sitting in claw foot bathtubs with a mountainside view. If anyone can shed some light here, please do enlighten us.

The disclaimers for these commercials are hoot. Do you really need someone to tell you that if you're having an erection lasting over four hours straight (no pun intended) that you need to seek medical attention before you pass out from loss of blood flow to your brain? There are so many conditions that would prevent you from being on their medication that they may as well just spell out who can be on this medication. You'd have a better chance of taking this medication if the disclaimer was something more along the lines of "people who wear purple for more than three days in a row, are left handed, naturally blond, like sushi, have lost their job in the last 18 months, own a cat named Muffin or have a diabetic guinea pig are eligible to take this medication."

Another type of commercial I find particularly amusing is for makeup, or more specifically lipstick, that stays on for 16 hours! What? Unless you're a display in a wax museum , I don't think wearing lipstick that doesn't need to be reapplied for 16 hours is a good thing. Don't these people eat, drink, talk, or use napkins during the waking part of their day? I can't even go 16 minutes without having to reapply my lip gloss (which by the way will be a topic all by itself in some future posting).

My problem is that unless a commercial is going the comedic route, I expect it to be somewhat realistic. I know, that's just stupid thinking. After all, nobody features realism when it comes to selling their products. Also, when I watch TV, I continually talk to the TV and try to rationalize commercials, movies, or our favorite TV shows. This is one of the things that my mom does that drives me absolutely berserk, and yet I find myself doing it to Ed. He often looks at me like he wants to say "shut up" but instead just smiles and nods his head. For instance, a music video came on and this guy and girl were riding on his motorcycle. Of course, neither one of them had on a helmet, and she was wearing a camisole type shirt which exposed lots of skin and all I could think about what was how her body would be scraped beyond recognition and the major head trauma she would suffer if they had an accident. I don't even remember what the song was--just how she wasn't being very practical. Yea, you might be in love girlie, but as soon as you wipe out on that bike and rip you're skin off, he's outta you're life.

Just this morning I heard a promo for a feature coming up on one of the local news stations about "what to say and not to say to someone you know who has lost their job." I thought "do people really need instruction on how not to be an insensitive boob?" What could someone possibly be saying that would warrant such a feature? Maybe something like "You lost your job? Wow, you must have sucked at whatever was you did!" Perhaps it's something more along the lines of "Good luck getting another job in this economy. You're screwed! And no, I can't loan you any money." Fortunately, for Ed, he has not encountered any such insensitive morons. Everyone seems to know just what to say.

Ed's Off the Bench

Rebecca's blog today has a guest (not ghost) writer in her chair. The husband has taken over. Please don't worry, she is safe and unharmed. I have not turned our pet chimpanzee loose on her face, or handcuffed her to the stair rail and commandeered her blog spot! I've actually been invited to sit in for a day. Having patiently read all of her entries over the past two months without a chance for rebuttal, I'm foaming at the mouth, chomping at the bit, ready to hit the ground running.....and I can't think of a darn thing to write about. If I were a writer, which I'm not, this would be called writer's block. Do you suppose that's how Seinfeld got its start? A bunch of writers, sitting around a table with writer's block, can't think of anything to write about, so they write an unbelievably successful show about nothing?

Actually, I think Rebecca's fear is that I will spout profusely about everything. Having been married for very close to 20 years, we've obviously been through just about everything a married couple could ever expect to encounter and we still manage to maintain a sense of humor and some affection for each other. Even so, when it's time to go out to play nice with others, I seem to still get.......instructions. "Don't do this, don't talk about that, don't say anything about that thing we discussed, don't ask so and so about their current job, car, clothing, kids, or in-laws, don't make fun of anyone, and don't tell anyone anything about us (even though it's okay for her to tell everyone everything on her blog)! I swear to God, I could write the manual on how to be a husband, based on how well I've been coached over the years. It's a good thing she's not here to read this over my shoulder.

She did give me a good suggestion to spout off on. My parents! The picture of the day shows two benches. The one in the foreground was given to me by my Mother. It was on the back patio of the home I grew up in (forever) and my Dad lovingly took it apart and refinished it every year (we painted it to avoid that mess). The one in the background was a gift from our closest friends, bought in honor of my Dad, after his funeral. We call them the Papa and the Nana benches.

Now....they are no longer around to defend themselves so are they....fair game? Hardly. It seems funny to me (now that I'm a parent) how much you take your parents for granted. Having been taken for granted a lot lately, I am living proof! Having said that, it reminds me -- "you don't know what you've got till it's gone". My Mother passed away in 1999, nine months short of the big celebration on January 1, 2000. She was big on milestones and would have enjoyed that to no end. My Dad passed away in 2006, just after the Tigers won the pennant and before they totally bombed in the World Series. He was really loving that, at the time. As more and more time passes, I feel much less sadness and now every time I think of them (which is at least every day) I smile. Sometimes it's because, out of the blue, I remember something one of them said or did. Sometimes it's because I catch myself asking them a question, or for advice on how to deal with a situation.

I used to be able to pick up the phone and ask how long you have to boil an egg, or what kind of finish is on my hardwood floor and what should I use to fix the scratches? Now I have to get on the internet. What a hassle. The thing I miss the most though is unconditional love. I hope you are all fortunate enough to know exactly what I'm talking about. It can really only come from your parents. Having recently been "displaced" as a worker, I've definitely gotten a lot of support and felt the love of a lot of family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, my customers and even my competitors. It's all well and good but when you are feeling lower than a well digger's ass, you really miss having your Mom and Dad tell you not to worry because "nothing's going to be all right anyway". That was my Mom's favorite saying in times of great distress and over the years, it seemed to fix everything. There are times when I feel a hole where that used to be. It doesn't come often, but it's the main thing about not having parents that still affects me. I guess I'm a sensitive guy.

OK, I'm over it! I started a new job yesterday. It was exhausting, I had to take today off! I'm out of work shape. It's currently a contract position that can/should turn into a full time career within eight weeks. I still have two formal offers pending from other companies that have submitted requisitions to hire me and are going through unbelievable executive scrutiny based on the somewhat sour global economy. Obviously these executives don't know me. Anyway, I got today off because I have a new customer coming in from San Francisco and I have to pick him up at the airport at 8:30 tonight and take him to dinner then dump him at his hotel. Tomorrow I will drive him to a meeting in Fostoria, Ohio, then Friday, back to the grind in the office.....Whew.

As you can tell, this is likely my last day at home with my lovely wife. After many in a row, she needs a break from me. Honestly, I've enjoyed it immensely. I've gotten to take part in her coffee club, participate in school things with the kids, go grocery shopping during the day with her, watch morning and daytime TV and consult on her blog. Now I'm back to the real world. I'm going to miss her a lot!

WWW.com Stands for Weird, Wild, and Wow!

For those of us who like instant gratification, the world wide web is a wonderful tool. I'm so glad Al Gore invented it! Seriously, though, so much knowledge and information can be discovered at the push of a few buttons.

Take for instance, a couple of years ago I discovered a skunk had fallen into our uncovered window well in our backyard. It was the year we moved into our new home, and we (Ed) hadn't gotten around to getting it appropriately covered up. Initially, we only had mice, voles, birds, and frogs fall into the opening. Then one day, I went into the basement and lo and behold, Pepe Le Pew was snuggled in the corner. As soon as I saw it, I couldn't get out of view quick enough, for fear he would let loose a spray. I threw myself up against the wall like an FBI agent in a raid and carefully peered around the corner to try and get a look at it. I may even have employed the use of a mirror. Holy crap! What now? I have a euchre party at my house in two days, if this thing goes off, that's gonna be a problem!

I immediately called Ed and tenderly reminded him of the downfalls of procrastination. The conversation went something like this--Ed: (sound of telephone ringing) "Hello." Rebecca: "THERE'S A SKUNK IN THE WINDOW WELL THAT I'VE BEEN ASKING YOU TO COVER FOR THE LAST THREE MONTHS!"

After we finished our "conversation," I went to my computer and logged on to the internet to do some research on skunks. I literally type in the words "how to remove a skunk from a window well" and up popped a slew of websites. How can you not love that? I proceeded to learn about skunks and how it was probably more afraid of me and than I was of it. Hah! I'm thinking "no." It gave me suggestions on staying out of its sight, the telltale signs of how it behaves prior to letting "loose", and how to get it out of there. Twenty-four nerve racking hours later, it was gone.

Google, You Tube, WebMD, just to name a few, have changed my life people! Last week, I heard some things about a wacky appearance Joaquin Phoenix made on the Dave Letterman show a couple of nights prior. I didn't see the show and hadn't seen any clips on TV about it yet. So off I went to my search engine. I was able to watch the whole crazy interview. It's definitely a must-see-TV moment. www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/02/11/joaquin-phoenixs-bizarre_n_166229.html. Dave really does his best to engage Joaquin and is just absolutely hysterical. Be sure to scroll down toward the bottom of the linked page to see the clip.

What's happened to Joaquin? He was kind of funny in "Signs" a few years ago with Mel Gibson (the movie about aliens) and he was great with Reese Witherspoon in "I Walk the Line" which was the movie about Johnny Cash and June Carter. He was so extremely WEIRD on Dave's show. I can only hope he's getting into character for a sequel to "Signs" where he plays a guy that was kidnapped by aliens, had a lobotomy, and then was dumped back on earth or maybe he's getting in character for his next movie "I Snorted a Line."

Another story that caught my eye on the web last week was about a nine year-old boy from Singapore who designed an application for the Iphone called Doodle Kids. Think Etch a Sketch for the Iphone. WOW--he's nine! He's younger than my ski jacket. Be sure to check him out at www.inventorspot.com/articles/nineyearold_designs_iphone_how_far_has_it_come_23467.

That's the thing with the internet. It can make you feel grossly inadequate or supremely superior, depending on what you come across. It can also make you feel like you're developing symptoms of any disease you are currently researching. I have sat at my computer and swear I have felt hives coming over me, tumors growing, not to mention experienced multiple signs of a heart attack that doctors tend to dismiss in women. Sometimes too much knowledge can be a bad thing. Other times, it can be a lifesaver.

The photo above was taken a couple of years back while on vacation with our friends in Petoskey. It was early evening and several of us had gone down to the beach to watch the sunset. Unfortunately, there wasn't a sunset, due to some clouds way, way off in the distance. As we walked around the parking lot and beach area, we noticed that every one's hair was standing on end. We thought it was so funny and just WILD! There was no rain, thunder, or lightning visible from anywhere. Since then I've come to learn that sometimes this can be a sign that lightning is about to strike. Had we been able to Google, we wouldn't have been sitting around giggling. We wouldn't have been saying "Ohmigod...look at your hair! Wow, that's funny....ohmigod, look at YOUR hair!" We would have typed in "hair standing on end outside", seen that it can be a sign that lightning is about to strike and then gotten the heck off of the beach. Fortunately, it all worked out for us. Not so sure about Joaquin, however.

Disorder in the Court!

With Alex preparing to head off to college later this year, I should be urging him to be become a lawyer. Considering how litigious our society is becoming, he could be plenty busy. Just look at him in this photo. Punctuality has always been one of his strong suits and doesn't his Spiderman briefcase make him look so professional? He's also had a lifetime of practicing his opening and closing arguments in the Honorable Rebecca Minch's courtroom and has even won a few cases against his formidable foe, Cameron.

We have become a nation of lawsuits. I've heard there is a rumor that the opening words to the national anthem are going to be changed from "Oh say can you see" to "Oh, you can sue me." Remember in the old days when the retort to whiny people was "so, sue me." It was basically a way to throw something back in their face short of saying "nyah, nyah, you can't touch me." Someone might complain "you took my seat" and you'd reply "so sue me." Nowadays, the conversation would go more like this...."you took my seat" and the fearful offender would say "oh my god! I did? I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry. Please don't sue me."

Recently I thought that my ship had come in with all this suing ensuing! I read with fascination how Miley Cyrus is being sued for $4 billion for a goofy photo (www.popcrunch.com/miley-cyrus-sued-over-racist-photo-lucie-j-kim-4-billion-lawsuit) of her and her friends. Apparently, she (and others in the photo) were seen as mocking asians by adjusting the shapes of their eyes. A woman in California has suffered emotional distress upon seeing the photo and has filed a class action lawsuit on behalf of 1 million Asian-Pacific Islanders living in Los Angeles County. Yay for me, I thought at first. I'm of Pacific Island descent. Half Filipino with a smidgen of Chinese thrown in for good measure. But then I read the part about this is only on behalf of L. A. County residents. What the heck? I'm thinking about suing the woman suing Miley Cyrus for discrimination. What about us Michigander Asian-Pacific Islanders? We have rights to ya know!

All this suing business got me to thinking. Perhaps I could file some of my own class action lawsuits. First I'd start with suing Paris Hilton. I know, I know, I gripe about Paris Hilton a lot but she offends me on so many levels. Let's start with the fact that she is a member of the female gender and she misrepresents our intelligence level. Then, there's the fact that her first name is Paris, which reminds me of Paris, France, which I've been to and have oodles of pictures of and every time I see a picture of the Eiffel Tower I suffer emotional distress because it reminds me of her.

Following Paris would be Michael Phelps. Afterall, he has offended us swimmers. I did grow up with a four-foot deep pool in my backyard, took swimming lessons at the Garden City Park, moved to a home on a lake, and then bought a home with an inground pool. I'd say that more than qualifies me as a swimmer who has been tainted by the "bong" scandal.

Next on my list would be Alex Rodriguez. I'm thinking of filing a class action lawsuit against him on behalf of all the kids who looked up to him and believed in the concept of true athleticism and honesty. I believe that Madonna may want to join in on this lawsuit, seeing as how she's miffed that A-Rod and has gone crawling back to his ex-wife in the wake of his scandal and not her.

Then, there's the Detroit Lions. I'm sure there's got to be a lawsuit in their future.

The year 2009 sure is shaping up to be the year of the ding-dong celebrity with Michael Phelps, Prince Harry, Chris Brown, and Miley Cyrus, not to mention all those Obama cabinet nominees who forgot to pay their taxes. I can't wait to see what's on the docket in March.

Can You Hear Me Now?

This year will mark 20 years since I received my first "car phone" as it was called in those days. Ed gave it to me as a wedding gift. I worked in downtown Detroit and it became an invaluable piece of equipment when my car broke down on the Jeffries Freeway one night, coming home from work.

Last summer, when I was combing through some junk for a garage sale, I came across the antiquated device. You should see the size of this thing. The boys were in disbelief when I showed them what my first "cell" phone looked like. The phone and battery were neatly zipped into a leather case which is larger than a toaster. It reminds me of the radios the soldiers would carry with them during World War II, lugging it from battlefield to battlefield. I envisioned myself shouting "mayday, mayday....my car has broken down on the Jeffries! Send help immediately!"

We sure have become dependent on our mini-communication devices, haven't we? Some more than others. I find it amazing at how oblivious people become when they have a cell phone up to their ear. Most of the time I witness this while I am shopping. For whatever reason, all common sense and scruples go out the window as they talk about their husband, or co-workers, or "supposed" friend. Yikes. Then, as they wander about the display racks or up and down the aisles, they ask the occasional "can you hear me now?" To which I'd love to say "Of course they can hear you now. The whole damn store can hear you now! Did you want everyone to know your a gossipy tart?"

We resisted getting the boys' their own cell phones until they were in middle school. It was at that age when they started becoming more independent and we wanted them to have it more for our peace of mind than theirs. The argument prior to that time had always been "What do you need a cell phone for? Due to your age and limited social life, you're not going to be anywhere that I can't reach you."

Then, a little over a year ago, we added unlimited texting to our plan. Can I just say, OMG! That's "oh my God" for all you unhip nontexters, which is what I was until about a year ago. I used to receive emails with LOL in them constantly and didn't know what the heck it meant. Now, thanks to the barrage of cell phone carrier commercials, I can spew sentences with IDK and BFF in them like no body's business.

I really couldn't understand the need for texting. I tried to explain to the boys that they are with their friends at school for seven hours a day, they each have an e-mail account, and we have a home phone. If you have something to say to someone just say it. Little did I know that e-mail was already considered obsolete with this generation. "No one uses e-mail, mom!" I remember thinking, "they don't, why not?" Perhaps it has something to do with their OPOS (obnoxious parents over shoulder).

And so it began. In December of 2007 I sent my first text! I only texted the boys in the beginning to check on what they were up to and say "hi." I quickly became irritated when I would take great care to type my text with correct spelling and proper grammar and punctuation usage and ask questions only to have Alex reply "k". What the heck! How about a little lovin' for your cool mom, dude? Is "k" all you can say?

As the months wore on, I began to notice a disturbing trend with my kids. They became texting fiends! It was as if their phones became surgically attached to their thumbs. You couldn't even finish saying "good morning" or "good night" before you heard the hum of their vibrating phone.

Statements with exhorbitant amounts of texts came rolling in. Granted, they were unlimited and so it didn't cost more money, but we were astounded. It was as if they were they texting each other one letter at a time and it took 42 texts just to form one sentence. Shortly thereafter, Ed and I staged an intervention and laid down some ground rules.

I truly believe this generation will be lacking in some crucial face-to-face communication skills when they get out into the real world, not to mention survival skills. One time when Alex was grounded from his cell phone, he asked me if he could have it while he drove somewhere. I said "no." He replied "but what if my car breaks down or I have an emergency?" I said "then you get out of the car and walk to a gas station and borrow their telephone like I used to when I was a teenager." But, I guess I don't have too much room to talk. Just twenty short years ago I was running around screaming "mayday, mayday..."

Are You There God?

Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed and heartbroken over sad news and more than ever, it's causing me to ask "are you there, God?" Last week I read a story about a woman from Hamtramck who was arrested for torture after putting her four-year old daughter in a hot oven. Prior to that, she had burned the girl's lower eyelid with a hot nail, or something of that nature while her husband had gone to pick up two of their older children from school. The 40-year old woman and her husband have five children--an infant, a four, five, seven and eight-year old. They are all in the foster care now.

It's hard not to get up on my soapbox and shout "stop having children!" Common sense tells me that would be a good place to start. You don't have to be Dr. Phil to understand that. In my opinion, people who are not mentally mature enough, educated enough, patient enough, or wealthy enough to raise five children, shouldn't be having five children. Just because you can have more kids, doesn't mean you should. I know this is a hot and controversial topic, and we could debate it until we're blue in the face. Nadya Suleman and her desire for 14 children have certainly fanned the flames of this firestorm.

Sad news is very different from bad news. We've certainly had plenty of bad news--job losses, home foreclosures, recession, depression, etc. After the initial shock sets in, bad news can make me feel angry. Sad news is just heart wrenching. It leaves me feeling empty and asking God "why would you do this?" In my heart, however, I know that God is not responsible for this, people are and it could have been avoided if people would stop and think. People choose to be selfish, people choose to take on too much, people choose to hurt others, and people choose to look the other way. Maybe if more of us would choose to pay attention to those who are in distress, we might be able to help avoid disaster.

Another example of sad news is the death of a 93-year old man who froze to death in his own home after his heat was cut off for failing to pay his bills. Ironically, it was discovered he left over $600,000 to a local hospital. The man's nephew was appalled at the circumstances surrounding his uncle's death. People were outraged at the local utility company and the way they handled the situation. Granted, they should have made sure the customer understood the ramifications of not paying his bill. However, where were the friends and family of this man? Why wasn't anyone checking on a 93-year old man in this bitter cold winter? It doesn't matter if he was mentally or physically stable. A 93-year old person needs a support system and someone should have been looking out for this gentleman. Many of us have elderly people in our neighborhoods that we just take responsibility for checking in on if we see they have no local family. The nephew should be appalled at his family's oversight in leaving this man on his own.

I have learned that the older I get, the less I truly need. What I find I need more of is something I can't buy. It's that feeling of knowing that I am giving back. I've always wondered why, as a breast cancer survivor, I didn't jump on the bandwagon of raising money, doing the three-day walk, wearing pink, and so on. It's not that I didn't feel compelled to help find a cure for cancer, it's just that I always thought I was too busy, or had that "what can I do?" mentality. After all, I'm only one person with limited resources. But age and life's lessons have changed my outlook from "what can I do" to "what I can do." So, I will be in search of a good cause that touches my heart that I can donate my time and efforts to. It might be volunteering at the local hospital or working at the Tri-City Christian food center. For me, giving back will be a way to not give in to despair.

If you are aware of a local charity or cause that needs volunteers, please share that information with us. Many of you have mentioned that you have tried to leave comments for me on the blog and have been unsuccessful. I think in order to do this, you must sign in, which is a feature that makes people accountable for their comments. Click on "sign in" at the top right corner of the blog. From there, you can create a Google Account with your email address and a password. Once you have created your Google Account, you can sign in and then click on "comment" for the posting you would like to comment on. When you post the comment, click on the account you are signed into, which would be Google. Please don't let it intimidate you. Creating a Google Account will not obligate you to to do anything. You can also sign up as a "follower", if you'd like. As my Aunt Mary says, if she can do it anyone can.

I welcome your comments, stories, ideas, and feedback and look forward to hearing from you.

It's Coming!

Today smells like April. What a wonderful gift. I can actually see grass and even opened a window for some fresh air today. It doesn't take much to make us Michiganders eager for spring. If the constant winter frigid temps haven't done it, then a teaser like today and tomorrow will. It's amazing what the weather can do to your psyche.

In the winter, I'm all wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, in my jammies and ready for bed by 8:30, if not earlier. In the summer, I'd still be at one of the boy's baseball game, thinking about that glass of sangria (or three) I'm going to enjoy when I get home. Let's face it. Once the romance of the Christmas season is over, winter is a drag. It's dark, cold, and depressing. Everything is dead outside and it's so complicated to "just run out." Winter sucks.

Spring and summer, on the other hand, are wonderful. The days start getting longer and it's exciting to see new growth (at least for me it is) coming up through the ground. Robins, blue birds, orioles, and hummingbirds return to visit. Everything is new and fresh and colorful.

In the winter, it's hard to break out of your comfort zone. Last week, I had to venture out to one of Cameron's orchestra concerts at 7:30 p.m. Holy crap, that's only one hour away from jammie time for me and the temperature was about two below zero! Out on a Wednesday night past 8:30--horrors!

Now 7:30 p.m. in the summer, that's a different story. The day is practically just beginning! I'd be ready to go for a walk, sitting outside wishing the day would never end because I love watching the birds, or thinking about going to Coldstone's for ice cream. "What do you want to do now? Wanna go somewhere? Let's go somewhere."

Winter has so many requirements--coats, gloves, boots, and scrapers. Summer makes you feel so bohemian. Just jump in the car with your flip flops on and go. Your hair is flying in the wind and the windows at home are wide open. Oh, you wild thing!

I've decided that I like my summer personality better than my winter one. I'm so much more optimistic and open to life. I'm a "yes man" in the summer and a "no way, dude" in the winter.

Thank goodness February is upon us and spring is on it's way. I know we still have more snow storms and possibly ice storms to survive before we are in the clear, but I think I'll go try on my shorts! See, today's weather is already turning me into a "yes man". Although, I know by Friday I'll be back to saying "no way dude...it's cold and dark outside."

How Was Your Day?

"Hi Honey, I'm home....still." It's been a little over a month since Ed was let go from his job. Fortunately, he has been busy fielding phone calls, going on interviews, and he anticipates receiving a couple of offers in writing this week. Then it will be decision time. Thanks again to everyone who has been so supportive and helpful during this stressful time. We will keep you posted.

When we were newly married, he used to come home and I'd ask him how his day was and what happened at work. This is what newly married couples do. They communicate with each other and try to see life from their partner's perspective. They want to share. Let's share, and talk about our day. At least I wanted to share. As least I thought I wanted to share.

You know that phrase, opposites attract? Well, it couldn't truer in our case. I am visual, Ed is technical. I am detailed-oriented, Ed is "oh, didn't I tell you about that?" I like to analyze, he likes to close his eyes (and pretend that he is listening to me).

After I became a stay-at-home mom, I longed for adult conversation. I couldn't wait for him to get home and tell me what was happening outside in the big-people world. Tell me everything, tell me, tell me, tell me! Then, I quickly learned that being married to a chemist (who later become a robotics guy) makes for a boring over-my-head conversation about a day that was filled with descriptions of "paint viscosity"...and the "robot"....blah, blah...."programming issues"....blah, blah...."P-2000 Model"....blah, blah, blah.

I, however, always felt that I had exciting stories to share with him--like when someone learned to poop on the potty, or when someone else discovered the joy of applying pink lipstick to their face and looked eerily similar to Bette Davis in "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?". Ed quickly learned that he could have cured cancer at work, but it wouldn't compare to my day!

I know that our stay-at-home time is coming to an end (I hope) and soon he will be back at it and meeting new challenges head on. This will probably mean a return to quite a bit of business travel in the beginning to meet with new customers. I'm sure he'll miss the daily excitement of being a stay-at-home dad and dealing with his high maintenance, hormonal wife. But if he knows what's good for him, he'll be sure to call me at the end of his hectic schedule and ask "how was your day?" to which I'll probably reply "when are you coming home?"

Swimmers for Hire

Dear Kellogg,

It has come to my attention that you may be in need of some new swimmers to endorse your product. Allow me to introduce you to Kendall and Cameron. While they have not won eight olympic gold medals (individually or combined!) I can assure you they have not smoked marijuana, would be good role models for your product and are as cute as a button!

Sincerely,

Rebecca Minch

P.S. They have outgrown the use of "swimmies" since this photo was taken.

* * *

Michael, Michael, Michael! Dude, what were you thinking? Did you think you were still in Ann Arbor at the Hash Bash? I realize you're only 23 and smoking pot is not the most serious offense in the world, but you do have a responsibility to yourself and the millions of children who look up to you. You shouldn't even be blowing your nose in public, let alone smoking from a bong! The eyes of the world are upon you. Fortunately, you have owned up to your error in judgement, have apologized and are moving forward. Until you've regained our respect, however, you may be in jeopardy of losing millions of dollars to Kendall and Cameron. Sorry!

See the World Through Bat Glasses....

...and maybe it will help you deal with all the craziness going on. Chalk it up to cabin fever, but I find myself so annoyed with ridiculous stories on the news this week and things that just don't make sense to me anymore!

Let's start with Nadya Suleman. She's the single mother who recently gave birth to octuplets making her the mother of 14 children now! Her own mother has trashed her in the news as being obsessed with having children. Ya think? Of course Nadya has hired her self a PR company who is touting her as a wonderful woman with an incredible story. They say that Nadya is thrilled at the miracle of life and has no trepidation about raising 14 children on her own. That's probably because she's too busy asking for a $2 million interview fee, a book deal, and her own TV show. What the hell? What could her book possibly say? I grew up as an only (supposedly lonely) child, I want more kids than the Brady Bunch (in one day), and I'm whack!

Nadya's own mother has said that when Nadya gets home from the hospital, she's outta here! I wonder if the millions of dollars her daughter might receive in offers might changer her mind. Mark my words, this woman will probably get a new house donated to her for her large brood, free diapers and whatever else corporate America can give her in the hopes of jumping on the bandwagon.

What's sad is that millions of responsible, hard working and independent parents will not get a book deal, free diapers, or a new house for them and their children. Apparently, you have to be a moron in order to get any help. Responsible citizens need not apply.

There's also the story of the teen from Saline who ran away to become a boxer in Puerto Rico. You couldn't make this stuff up if you tried. Due to some great police work she has been found and is to be returned, safe and sound, to her family. Her parents were all over the news, fraught with worry, crying, appealing and imagining the worst. But I wonder, how did it get to this point? If you're so in tune with your kid, this doesn't just happen over night. Their teenage daughter told them on Saturday she was going to the mall and then over to a friend's house to spend the night. They didn't even know she was missing until Sunday morning.

I guess she met the guy online through Xbox live. The parents were worried about her being "lured" to Puerto Rico. All I can think is that someone is not doing a good job of communicating and paying attention in that family. Sixteen years old is certainly old enough to know that you shouldn't be secretly hopping on a plane to meet up with some guy in Puerto Rico who can help you become a boxer, don't you think? If she couldn't talk to her parents about her "dreams and future plans" then some heavy duty family therapy should be in their future.

I've also been reading where there is a proposal to raise our water rates due to less consumption. So, let me get this straight. People start to use less water, after being told for years how it's the "green" thing to do, not to mention it's an obvious way to reduce our utility bills in this depressed economy. Now the water department wants to raise the rates because people are using less and they need more money? That's like Chrysler saying "we have sold way less cars this past year and so we're going to have to raise the price of our vehicles to over $100,000 so we can make money. What the hell?

I apologize for all the spewing, especially since my blog is supposed to be about keeping it positive and lighthearted, but I feel like common sense and the act of taking personal responsibility has gone out the window. It's almost as if the bigger loser you are, the bigger winner you become. After all, look at Sarah Palin. She wants $11 million for her book deal to tell us how she was nominated for vice president and helped John McCain lose.

I need to take "idiot" lessons and then get an agent.

For a good laugh, be sure to check out some of the You Tube clips at the top on the right. They should vary day to day.

Embarrassing Moments

Last week, I was flipping through "Us" magazine when I came upon a large photo of Brad Pitt at some recent red carpet event standing front and center with his fly open. Talk about your LOL moment! I think he was promoting his new movie "The Curious Case of Benjamin Who Forgot to Button his Fly" or something like that.

It started me thinking about how I would feel if some of my most embarrassing moments through life were photographed or videotaped for the whole world to share. Like the time in fourth grade, when I was busy chewing on my Bic pen. You know the kind--the classic clear pen body with the blue cap on each end. For whatever reason, there was no cap on the non ballpoint end. I was busy chewing on the pen that I didn't notice the ink had made its way up the pen and into my mouth. My first clue was when I tasted something gross. Next thing I knew I had blue stuff all over my tongue and lips. After Sister Screamalot excused me, I made a mad dash to the bathroom feeling certain that I was going to die from ink poisoning (I was only 9 or 10 years old, after all).

Then there was just a couple of weeks ago when I was in Kroger doing some grocery shopping. I learned that when you wear your Ugg boots every single day since November whenever you venture outside, you tend to wear down ALL the traction on them. So, as I was waiting for my order to be finished up at the deli counter, I began to stroll over to the fried chicken area, with my shopping cart. When to my dismay, I stepped in a puddle of water, which probably had been left there from somebody else's boots, and started to do the splits. The only thing that stopped me from going all the way down to the ground and tearing all my groin muscles was my left shin plowing into the bar at the bottom of the grocery cart. Of course my first reaction was to look around to see who might have witnessed such a spectacular display of grace. I didn't really make an attempt to make eye contact with anyone, but I didn't hear any laughter so I assumed that was a good sign. Then I looked at the floor, as if to blame it, and started to realize that my shin hurt bad and thought, "hmmmm.....that's going to leave a mark." Finally, I started laughing uncontrollably.

Last year, when Ed and I attended a funeral luncheon we started to make small talk with another couple at our table and Ed realized the woman was related to a 40-something acquaintance of his. Unfortunately, he incorrectly assumed that she was his mother, rather than his older sister. Awkward! All I could think to say was "pass the butter please."

Embarrassing moments fall into two categories. First there is the "I don't know how to tell you this (so you usually don't)" category. This could consist of encounters where someone you're talking to has broccoli in their teeth, or the back of their dress is tucked into the waste line of their pantyhose, or like Brad, their fly is open. I had one of these encounters just last week when I went to get my mammogram. As I sat wrapped up in a hospital gown that didn't quite fit me, I busied myself with one of the magazines in the lounge area. Another woman, who apparently was experiencing some of her own gown issues, started to talk to herself (and maybe me too,) saying that she was going to take something out to the lobby waiting room for her companion to watch. Maybe it was her purse or something, I don't know. Not really paying attention, I looked up at her just as she walked past me out into the hall when I noticed that her right breast was hanging out of an opening that wasn't properly secured. By the time I realized what was happening, it was kind of too late. So, I quickly returned to my magazine and tried to contain myself. I mean really, she was already half way out the door. I would have had to shout "excuse me, your breast is hanging out of your gown! I just thought you'd want to know." Sometimes, it's breast, I mean best, to just look the other way. When you encounter one of these moments, it's important to act like you didn't notice a thing. As soon as you get far enough away from the soon-to-be-embarrassed subject, it is okay to laugh uncontrollably and tell everyone you know what you just saw.

Next is the "Oh my gosh, are you okay?" category. This is where someone has physically fallen, tripped, gotten whacked in the face or private parts, and you feign concern. Once you see that they are not going to require medical attention, then and only then, is it okay to burst out laughing in their face. Again, I have encountered a situation, such as this. It was several years ago when Ed and I had taken the boys skiing at Shanty Creek. We rented a beautiful condo at the top of the slopes. I think Alex was maybe in fifth grade. Anyway, he went out on the balcony to arrange the skis in a more orderly fashion. He left the sliding door open. It was freezing so I asked Cameron to close it, which he did. Apparently, Alex didn't notice. I was sitting by the fireplace watching him and the events going on outside. He turned to come back in and walked right into the glass door. I happened to witness "the moment" and will never forget the look of shock on his face as his nose hit the glass. Once I realized that his nose wasn't broken and he stopped crying, then, and only then, was it okay for me to laugh out loud.

The truth of the matter is, embarrassing moments are hilarious, if you're not the one being embarrassed at the moment. That's why we love things like You Tube, blooper shows, and America's Funniest Home Videos. Nothing boosts our confidence more than seeing someone else taken down a notch or two.

So, do me a favor. The next time you're in Kroger and you see a woman doing the splits with ink all over her face, just look the other way for my sake.