Stupidity Reigns

Pet Peeve #2: Beauty Pageants

Just what are they? Let's think for a moment about where they come from and why we have them. After extensive research (Wikipedia) I have found the answers. First and foremost, pageants were designed and created as a marketing tool. The first “bathing beauty pageant" took place as part of a summer festival to promote business in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, in 1880. Beauty pageants became more widely accepted during WWII when beauty queens were used to sell bonds and entertain troops. Pageants became popular during the 50's when they were used to promote county fairs and local products. What is at work here? It's one of the oldest marketing tools in the book: sex appeal.

Sadly enough, thousands of women sign up each year to compete with one another for the laud and honor of a nation. Laud and honor of a nation?! How crazy are you? You compete merely to appease the appetites of a few dirty old goats. The men in attendance are only waiting to ogle you while you parade around in a swim suit. Only heaven knows why there are women there. It sure isn't for the talent show because there is better talent to be had at your little sister's piano recital.

Pageants have been the bane of the feminist movement. They tear down all that our fore-mothers burned their bras for. They are a place where the skewed perceptions and pressures of a warped society objectify emaciated young women under the pretense of beauty, or worse yet, a scholarship. What would you do for a little money? If you win, you hope to navigate your future by filling your sails with the stagnant winds of popularity, praise and a penny in your pocket.

“So the Miss America "Scholarship" Pageant is on tonight”, your roommate says. Oh, there's a real winner. I could listen to somebody regurgitate platitudes about community service, helping the needy and world peace. Don't we see what is really going on here? It's all about motives. There are three parties whose motives must be examined.

First, the contestants. Why are they doing this? Possible motives:

Fame
Praise
The stamp of society that says they are beautiful
Ego or a lack there of
Money
Being on TV
Make Mom or Dad happy
Show the mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all
Beat Marsha at her own game
Low self esteem
Other reasons not readily ascertainable

Second, the audience. Why are they there? Possible reasons:

Titillate their sexual appetites
Support someone they know
Dream about the day when they will compete
Remember the time they competed
They have nothing better to do

Third, the organizers. Why would you do this?

Money. Plain and simple. Money makes the world go round. Why do we have TV show's? Money. Why do we have movies? Money. It's all about money. Somebody, one day, found that if he got some women to parade about in swimsuits, people would come watch. In fact they would pay to watch. Not only that, they would be in a particular location for a particular amount of time, which can be used to boost sales and market products.

So why are young women still voluntarily signing up to be the marketing tools for a few greedy and debauched old men?

"Doobee Doobee Doo"

Ok, so I've decided to be honest: I hate my work. Ok, maybe I don't hate it per say, but I don't really enjoy it. Ok, ok. I know. It's my attitude, isn't it? Yes, it is. Attitude is everything. I go through Attitude undulations. I'll have a good attitude and after a few months it will begin to morph into a terrible attitude. Then I'll have a moment of reawakening and completely turn around. Hey! It's a beautiful day at work again! Give it a few months and I'll be improving the wrinkles in my furrowed brow.

The past month has been full of brow furrowing, until a couple of days ago. I walked into the nasty and never appetizing Raytheon Cafeteria. Everything looked disgusting and I was resigned to staring at the grill menu. My brow furrowed. The worker on the other side of the glass gazed at me in amusement. I finally said, "I'll take a hotdog." "Wow," came the reply. "The human body is an amazing thing! So many expressions. For a while there I couldn't tell if you were angry or upset. All right! One hotdog coming up." The cafeteria worker is a man in his forties. He reminds me of a pirate due to his black bandana, gold hoop earring, scruffy goatee, and missing right front tooth. "Doobee doobee doo.....," he begins to sing as he throws my hotdog on the grill. "Strangers in the night," my mind fills in.

My dog is now done and being dressed. "Onions?” he asks. "Yeah, sautéed onions please." “I do have raw onions." "No. Sautéed." "Ahhhhhh. I see, still want to keep your friends. Good choice. There you are sir. Next, please. Talk to me ma'am!"

And away I went....in awe. In total awe. Here I am, 27, nice job, good pay and I'm complaining?! And here is this man in his forties, working in a cafeteria and he is happier than I am! What is wrong with me?! Talk about ungrateful! It's all about attitude. It's about approach. Most jobs are more boring than otherwise. "It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue (or build a radar, or flip a burger), and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look. To affect the quality of the day - that is the highest of arts." (HDT)

R Wilde

More lines from my favorite old townie:

"But that's a little outside your belly wick."

"I've done 47 years of a 50 year life sentence at this company. For what they are paying me and the work that I actually do, I'd have more respect for myself if I walked across the street to the bank and stuck a gun in their faces."

"Don't get me wrong. I think he's a nice guy, but he's got the personality of a flat beer."

"I get my exercise at night, ma' boy."

420 dude

So I've decided to rant about one of my pet peeves. Evites. I think I'll just take an excerpt from a chat that Mary and I were having. (If you don't know Mary you should). I happened to find out a few things about Mary I really shouldn't share. But you guys can keep it on the DL I'm sure. H'enyway:

......

Webster: oh hey I gotta go
me: What is it 4:20, or something?
Oh, it is 4:20. How crazy is that. Only 2 more hours of work. Wait....
Webster: blush
me: I've heard rumors about you lately.
Webster: oh really? in regards to?
me: 4:20
Webster: not true
completely unfounded
me: Ok?
Webster: hee hee
me: So it's true??????? :)
Webster: aye me not sure how to respond
me: Ok. No need to. Akward.
Webster: hahahaaa! no!
me: cricket cricket
Webster: hahahaaaa! no it's just that I.....
me: Ahhhhh
Webster: but i don't want anyone to know, you know?
me: I do. I do. That's probably for the best.
Webster: yeah
me: Ok....so....mental note....don't go with Mary to the Bob Marley revival she invited me to.... Got it.
Webster: you would love it
me: ;)
Webster: who is andrew jeans?
me: ???
Webster: i just got an evite from him dunno him
me: Me neither. ps. I have a pet peeve with evites.
Webster: actually, i'm not sure. he appears to live in NH. Rural NH. what's the peeve?
me: The fact that they know EVERYTHING.
Webster: hahaaaa!
me: First they know that you got the email with the evite. Then they know if you opened the email with the evite.
Webster: lol
me: Then they know if you opened the email and clicked on the link to the evite. And they know if you checked who's coming. And they know if you respond or not.
Webster: it's a little big brother, i feel ya
me: It's never ending.
Webster: evite was originally created for the FBI
me: "So why haven't you opened my evite?"
"So why didn't you respond to my evite?"
Webster: i'm hearing seinfeld use this
me: He should. Maybe I should email him....
Webster: def initely

The Bachelor Pad

So Tim and I have a foosball table which we stole from the church. It is a great addition to the pad. It was broken for a while so we hadn't played on it yet. On Sunday it was finally working and we had a few friends over for dinner. We started a friendly Sunday afternoon game. Mary and I played against Mooney and Kylee. It was Mary's debut game playing foosball. Out of control. Not only did she defend but she screamed, shouted, shook uncontrollably, jumped, high-fived, and kicked ass.

After all the peeps had left Tim and I played a game. I made a marvelous showing by scoring 6 consecutive goals on myself and loosing in a near shut-out. After the game was over, I looked at Tim and said, "That is the worst game of Ping-Pong I've ever played."

I Love That Dirty Water

Raaaar! Last night was absolutely amazing. Amazing. Thanks to my wonderful friends Ju and Carri (and of course Claudio) I went sailing. One of my favorite things about sailing is how quiet it is. No motors or splashing water. Just the sound of the boat skimming over the water, the wind in your face, and the other 7 people riding with you.

We went out to watch the moon rise. By 8:30 we were a little antsy so we started texting google to find out when the moon would rise. No luck, but the texting google thing is really cool. You should try it.

It was the perfect time of night. It's that point where the sun has gone down but there is still enough light to make the sky-scrapers look like they are glowing. Still, it is dark enough that the glow of the city lights is strong. That's when it came. The moon that is. It rose right between the sky-scrapers of Boston and Back Bay. It was enormous and yellow. It was a truly ethereal experience.

Mm!

For pictures go to Ju's blog.

BOSTON!

Go Sox

This here little blog is actually just a compilation of a couple of emails I've sent out in the past. For most of you this is just a rehash. So don't even bother reading. H'enyways, here goes.


So many of you have heard the stories of Roger. Yes, yes. My 67 year old co-worker. A total Boston townie. He hates the Red Sox and loves the Yankees. If you ask him why he'll say, " 'Cause I got tired a loosin' my lunch money on the Red Sox." People love to give him a hard time. The latest thing was this picture. Someone hung it in his office. Train a child up in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. Hah. I love Boston. I love Fenway. Go Sox!



The following is an email I sent to my family (all yankees fans) after a great Sox game:

While I know that the following my cause me to be ostracized from a family full of blind and belligerent Yankees fans, I do have to shout the proverbial Boston chant, "Yankees Suck!" I went to a game at Fenway Park last night. I sat center field, on a warm and calm summer evening, while we spanked the Devil Rays. Every time I go to Fenway it reaffirms the fact that I love the Red Sox. Red Sox for life! You can have your gargantuan, cold, and impersonal Yankee Stadium bought by the sellouts of the past century. I'll stick to the Green Monster and "Sweet Caroline" in the 8th. "But I love that dirty water; Oh, Boston, you're my home." Here's to the greatest underdogs of the past century.