I could have told you this

On my to read list:



A recent book came out called Nation of Rebels : Why Counterculture Became Consumer Culture

The authors argument is today's counterculture that aims to fight against the "man" and what he represent (mass- globalization, consumerism, marketing, etc.) is in fact perpetuating these same ideals within their own culture and within the consumer-dominated world. The author's state that in order for progressives to make change happen, it needs to be on a grand scale. Take global warming. Results won't come about by recycling cans alone but through mass consensus of foreign powers we make a difference that will benefit everyone. In cases such as this, they contend that conformity has its good points.

I suppose it does to a certain extent. More kids focus on how other kids perceive them in school by their actions, clothing, or cliques. I imagine kids are still getting their ass kicked for their $200 dollar sneakers or the cell phone they're carrying. Proponents of dress-code in schools will say wearing a school uniform helps build individuality by stripping kids of items of luxury and allowing them to cultivate their independence and not relying on symbols of what is fed to them by mass-consumerism.

I'd like to think that my way of thinking or being is not influenced in some way by some marketing firm or by some corporate executives who forecast what the next trend will be. Don't you find it odd that sometimes you feel you're the only one in the know when it comes to something such as noticing something you hear in a song or perhaps watching a particular program and you feel you are one up on everyone to find out later that everyone was thinking the same way you were!?

A great example of this is I Love the 70s, 80s, and 90s on VH1. You have a show that talks about things that were part of the counterculture in a pop-culture manner. I find these shows unbearable to watch despite my initial addiction to them when they first came around and I guess that's part of the problem. You're basically watching a show that you think you can only relate to but the show wouldn't be on if everyone else couldn't relate to it as well.

First have to start reading Godfather Returns before I can even start on this. For all I know, I can be talking out my ass.

Spongebob Fancypants?

Is this child being indoctrinated into the Klan or into evil hedonistic homosexuality?


Apparently Spongebob, Sesame Street, Barney and some other children's show characters are advocating homosexuality through a remake of Sister Sledge's We are Family. Some right wing Christian groups claim that they are actually promoting homosexuality to youth and are a cover for the We Are Family Foundation.

It all makes sense now. Patrick is somewhat of a flake. He's pink and a walking phallic symbol despite being shaped like a starfish. Squidward has very gay-like hobbies such as playing the clarinet and Spongebob, like his neighbors, is single and lives alone with his pet snail (or in gay terms: his cat). They all live in a place called "Bikini Bottom" as in "I'm a power bottom."



The choice of song is strange to begin with. For starters, wasn't We are Family pretty much a gay anthem during the early 80's? Now I can be reading too much into this but doesn't the Christian right have the right to shield their children's eyes away from such things?

It appears the church has had it out for Spongebob for some time but with the help of famous sinner/producer Nile Rodgers (he was part of the Satan worship group Chic) has helped in showing the true nature of these cartoons. People tend to forget some of the anti-semitism and racism that was prevalent in early Warner Bros. cartoons. The difference here is networks are promoting god-hating ways such as men fornicating in the grass somewhere on the Great Lawn in Central Park away from the view of some park ranger taking a donut break because its so bitterly cold in the city and he wishes he wasn't such a cheapskate for not buying the large cup of cocoa instead of the small which was only 25 cents more.

I can go on forever but somewhere Yahweh is shaking his head in dissapproval. Hopefully someone will start talking about He-Man and his fixation with animal erotica.

Departmental birthdays.

Today we celebrated department birthdays. There was a time when I actually enjoyed them, particularly those times when you’re flat broke and you know you can look forward to your fellow employees bringing in lots of food for the occasion. As time went on, and you celebrate more birthdays, you find yourself taking count of who continues to show up to these. Your fellow employees who once started out with you are either no longer with the department or have moved on to bigger and better things. You find yourself celebrating birthdays with people over 50 who have been with the company since its heyday.

Now there’s nothing wrong with sharing your birthday with people older than you but you can’t help but contemplate your own mortality at that point.

So this year, monthly birthdays rolled around and as usual, my boss’ assistant gathered people around the usual spot. I heard them singing in the back of the office, “Happy Birthday…” which I was hoping to avoid by raising the volume on my Itunes on my Mac. Eventually someone dragged me over and of course I had to play dumb saying “Oh yeah…we’re doing January birthdays today. Sorry about that guys!” What made it particularly eerie was the toy hamster they had that shakes its hips and sings happy birthday to you. People actually waited for this thing to finish singing!

The boss’ assistant told me she sent an e-mail asking people in the department whether or not they wanted to continue celebrating these on a monthly basis since there is that feeling that people tend to care less about the fact that they're getting older. I told her I thought it was a rhetorical question.

After blowing out the candles and taking in some grub, I got the expected questions about how old I would be next week. I told them I wasn’t sure at the moment and that they should refer to my blog. Everything would be answered there and they could read about my meltdown in progress. Of course, I told them this half-jokingly and got some good laughs out of it.

Walking back to my desk, the guy next to me told me he was turning forty two next month. I felt kinda guilty afterwards; here I was talking trashing about going on forty in a few years and this guys is standing next to me not saying a word. He did say though that its not that bad. Who knows, maybe he’s right. I remember freaking out when I was close to turning thirty. Actually my thirties were way better than my twenties so lets see how this pans out in a few years. Gonna go and grab a stale cookie or whatever is left back there.

You light up my life - now let me hit something!

We have been going crazy trying to find the right light fixtures to put in our home. We have been researching online as well as jumping from store to store looking for that fixture that will forever be present once the switch is turned on.

One of the nice things about living in the old apartment back in L.I.C. (that's Long Island City, by the way) was living with whatever fixtures the super left for us. We weren't planning on throwing cash down on making decorative renovations so that some other person would enjoy what we left for them. I was cool with that and my too to some extent. We both looked forward to the day we would have our nice Co-op apartment in Astoria/LIC and we could fix it up as we wished.

Meanwhile back in Teaneck...

So we went ahead and bought all these light fixtures to eventually find out that they are all too big for the areas they are to be placed in. What is it with these houses with low ceilings? I'm even limited to the type of light fixture I can get without taking the risk of hitting my head against it.

According to my wife, she's says I'm exxagerating. Let's see after I have black and blue bruises on my noggin.

Recurring dreams

I keep having these recurring dreams about the catholic school I went to ages ago. It's always the same dream: I'm trying to enter the school building and I'm only allowed into the front lobby. For some reason, I'm trying to go into the classrooms as if I'm trying to find something I left behind but the people that work there don't allow me. Others are allowed to pass except me. In the dream, I'm at my current age. Perhaps there's another way to get in.

I remember there's another entrance where we used to line up for assembly and I watch the kids go inside and I follow them. The walls are a bland green marble just as they were when I was attending with old class photos featured throughout the hall.

In other dreams I'm granted a tour but something comes up to prevent me from going, or I'm allowed to speak with one of the nuns.

I have no idea what it means. I used to have recurring dreams like visiting Europe which finally ended the day I actually went traveling to Spain. I thought visiting it would stop the dreams but they keep coming back.

My friend and I went to visit the old school over the summer walking around the building, talking about where we used to run around before assembly started and how we used to go to the park across the street during lunch time. I don't think there's old ghosts that I need to let go of. As far as I remember, I had nothing but good memories.

When I went back to the Bronx the day I flipped out, I went driving around the school . Didn't really stop, just drove by like checking if anything had changed, like if construction was being done or something. It was still the same like over the summer.

I'm trying to remember now what were some things that would trigger these dreams? There was Sister Helen, who was one of those modern 70's nuns who didn't wear the nun's uniform and who always carried an acoustic guitar; she was more like Joan Baez than a nun. I remember my class going on a trip which my parents were too cheap to pay for (it was only $10). I had to sit in her classroom watching her students singing "Day by Day" from Godspell. If you found one kid driftng off, she'd smack him across the head and tell him to keep up with class. There was a rumor going around that she cracked the lunch bell on one of the kid's heads. Doubt this ever happened but great story!

There was Mrs. Rosenberg (didn't think of the name till now: "Rosenberg" in a Catholic school?) who was a sweet lady who loved the kids and it was in her class where I went on my first class trip to the Bronx Zoo. It was also the first time I saw my fellow classmates without their school uniforms but in regular clothing which was weird. You get used to seeing a person in a tie and blue slacks all the time.

I remember clearly the day I left my school bag on the bus and I was half way to school when I realized it. I tried in vain to run after the bus and was gonna crap my pants once my parents found out. Anyone who went to Catholic school knows that your parents pay for the books you use and all the school equipment. I'd just received my first Our Lady of Angels school bag (which looked more like a bowling ball bag) but I thought it was cool and hear I was losing it like an idiot! Thankfully my parents didn't go off on me. Then again, that was so long ago, it was possibilty they may have.

I asked the resident dream interpreter here at work what these dreams may mean. According to him, I'm possibly trying to revert back to a time where I was safe and comfortable. Something is holding me back from entering the school and perhaps its my acknowledgment of responsibilities that prevents me from doing so.

I found this on the Dream Dictionary:

Dreaming that you are in school means feelings of inadequacy and childhood insecurities that have never been resolved. It may relate to anxieties about performance and abilities. You may also be going through a "spiritual learning" experience. If you are still in school and dream about school, then it will naturally serve as a backdrop to your dream world. Alternatively, a dream that takes place in school may be a metaphor for the lessons that you are learning from your waking life.

Another recurring dream I have is of bridges.

Initially I dreamt of old dilapidated bridges that looked similar to the Brooklyn Bridge and the only means of getting across was walking along this beaten path that had so many twists and turns it appeared more like a labyrinth.

Those dreams eventually stopped and I recently been having dreams of bridges again but this time they appear as a state of the art bridge from some architects design but either they are too narrow to drive across or they are impossible to walk across due to the material that was used construct it.

When I do manage to walk across the bridge, everything appears in a thick fog making it difficult to see what is on the other side.

Dream Dictionary states the following:

Dreaming that you are crossing a bridge means an important decision or a critical junction in your life. This decision will prove to be a positive change with prosperity and wealth in the horizon. Bridges represent a transitional period in your life where you will be moving on to a new stage. Dreaming of a run-down bridge indicates that you should not contemplate any major changes in your life at this time. Dreaming of a bridge collapse indicates that you have let a great opportunity pass you by.

Dreaming that you are going through a thick fog means much confusion, troubles, scandal, and worries. You may not be seeing things the way they really are or you may have lost your sense of direction in life.

So what I get from this is that I'm pretty much going through a pre-mid life crisis and if I don't do something now, I'm only going to get more neurotic as times goes on.

Question is, what to do about it? Now may be a good time for self reflection. Catch you guys later.

A birthday story - Part 2

After pleading with her to get in the car to go out to eat, she wanted nothing to do with me. She wouldn’t hold my hand, answer me or even look in my direction. Man, was I taking this too far? All would be good once we reached the restaurant. Being the evil bastard that I am, I told her I would make it up to her on Christmas which was two weeks away.

“Christmas?! My birthday isn’t on Christmas! How many weeks did you have when you were sitting on the couch watching your TV or going online could you have taken one evening after work to go out and get me something for my birthday? It’s only one day out of the year. I don’t ask for much and you can’t even do that! I know why you came home late now. You did this to get back at me for coming home late from work these past few weeks, well, are you’re happy now?”

Man, you have no idea how badly I wanted to get to the restaurant and just get this over with. So we get there and I’m still trying to hold her hand and she’s avoiding me like the plague. We get seated and I’m watching her staring blankly at her menu trying her best to avoid looking at me. I figured now would be a good time to spring into action. I pretended to go the bathroom and asked the waiter to bring out a slice of cake later to wish my wife a happy birthday. Next I went back and told her I thought I might have left the car doors open. Now, wouldn’t you get the hint that something was up; it’s like when your mom or dad tell you to go up to your room otherwise Santa can’t deliver the presents under the tree. She didn't give a crap and said coldly, “Whatever.”

I entered the restaurant again with gifts and card placing it behind her chair since she was oblivious to my presence and too busy finding other ways to hate me. Finally I had to end it and told her to turn around and lo and behold, she saw her gifts and the birthday card I made for her. She started reading the card and started laughing then crying. It was at this point she said to me “I never realized how shallow I am” which I had to shake my head yes to. I wonder, would she have come to this same conclusion if I had not gotten her anything? At that moment it didn’t matter since I’d rather have her laughing with me instead of having her shoot daggers with her eyes in my direction.

The clincher of course was the dessert which the chef brought out which made her feel even more miserable. Wow! What a way to make your loving wife feel horrible about herself on her own birthday!!

I got her some beauty products from one of her favorite stores in the city which she liked but told me later that I happened to get her beauty products last year for her birthday. (One other thing to remember guys—women are never satisfied with what they have or in this case get.)

We had a nice dinner despite putting my wife through mental anguish and having her contemplate divorce.

Last lesson I can give you guys is learn how to say apologize profusely when you’ve done something wrong (especially when you post a story like this one for everyone to read. Once she finds out, I’m dead meat!).

Taking off for MLK

Didn't have to work today due to MLK B'day. People b*tch and moan when they no longer get Columbus Day off but they sure are happier than pigs in sh*t once MLK roles around.

Anyway, plan on observing the holiday painting. Yay. How exciting. Will write more on Tuesday to recap the weekend.

Later.