A Thanksgiving Scam

So I made my purchase, and I have a couple of ounces left over if anyone is interested. It's the good shit, but I still have a bone to pick. What's that you say? You quit smoking weed in college? Not talking about THAT shit, where is your mind? No really, what do I do with the extra 2 ounces? Hold the phone, I might actually have to use it.

WTF is The Guitarman carping about now? Well it all started last weekend when I went to do the whole turkey day shopping at the Jewel. I like to beat the crowds and get 'er done before the masses descend on the baking aisle. Black Friday ain't nuthin' until you've been in a tug-o-war with an obsessed soccer mom over the last can of pumpkin puree the day before Thansgiving. So I'm going down my list, and I am at the "12 oz. can of sweet condensed milk." I see the can and toss it into the cart. Mission accoplished. But being the nit-picky, anal retentive that I am, I have to make sure that it is indeed a 12 oz. can. To my chagrin, it is 14 oz's, not 12. "Well at least I have enough, " I say to myself, and move on to the rest of my list. But somewhere between that aisle and my kitchen I come to a brutal realization: every recipe I have ever made calls for a 12 oz. can of sweet condensed milk.

So what gives? Is there a conspiracy theory going on here? Did all the makers of SCM get together and decide to stick one up the collective consumers ass? And just what in THE hell am I supposed to do with all this extra SCM? It certainly won't keep until next T-day. I could give it to the squirrels, but yea, fuck them. As I am preparing the sweet delectable concoction, all these questions were swirling in my head. That is, until I emptied the contents into my trusty pyrex measuring cup and see were aren't actually looking at 14 oz's. Nor are we even seeing 12. It measures 10. Either my trusty pyrex cup ain't so trusty, or I just got fucked. So now I must trudge back to that infernal store and buy another can? And now I will not have 2 oz's left over but, umm, carry the one, 8? Does that include the weight of the can? Aww screw it, anybody out there have 2 oz's for sale?

What else can I say?

Great news everyone! The recession is still over! Jerry Sandusky is innocent! The election is coming soon! Alien dopplegangers have finally returned the Bears to Earth! My house will be invaded by 20+ friends and relatives in 5 short days! Yes, it's back already, 5 topics in 5 minutes. Strap on everyone! (Or is that strap in?)

Recession
So have I got this straight? The unemployment rate in Illinois: it only "inched up" to 10.1% from 10% for October. So by only "inching up" vs. "skyrocketing up" it is actually good news in the sense that instead of everyone jumping over a cliff at the same time only a few of us choose to make the leap, with the rest of us 99%ers waiting in line to do so. The housing market in Illinois: October of 2011 compared to October 2010; closed home sales of 237 down 13.5%, home listings going under contract 267 down 2.9%. The median sale price of $103,000 down 6.36%. Goin' down. Down, down, down, down, down. Great, our economy is a Jeff Beck song. Can't wait until we get back to the good old days of inflation. Where the hell is Nixon anyway?

Jerry Sandusky
We can all relax a little now. Unlock the front door again, and return the mountain lion to the zoo that was keeping watch over your kids bedroom door at night. Jerry Sandusky says he is innocent. Saying that his naked showers with 10 year old boys in a school locker room were a lapse in judgement and innocent fun, not unlike the way a gang-banger goes out and shoots up a playground with the same excuse, we should take him at his word right? Either this guys is seriously ill, or he is smart as a whip. We are either dumb enough to believe his clap-trap, or he is setting up his insanity defense. "But your honor, he is so sick, he actually believes the shit coming out of his mouth." Can't wait until he is sharing a cell with that guy that was masturbating in class while giving lectures.

Obama for President
Said it before. I'll say it again. Presidents should not be allowed to run for re-election. How can you believe anything a sitting president says or does when he knows that his political life is hanging by a thread? The Hispanic vote helped propel him to victory in 2008. And just in time for election 2012, we get fact vs. fiction. Fiction: his administration announces new rules governing the deportation of illegal aliens, aiming to speed the deportation of convicted criminals and halt those of many illegal immigrants without criminal records. Fact: despite campaigning to the exact opposite, last year the U.S. had the highest deportation numbers on record: nearly 400,000. Since President Obama took office, more than a million illegal immigrants have been deported. Umm, excuse me Mr. President, but just how think do you dumb I am?

Real Illegal Aliens
A few short months ago, the Chicago Bears tore out of the gate with a rousing destruction of last years NFC best record Atlanta Falcons, then fell off the truck with lackluster play, and oh yea, record setting futility as Jay Cutler got a real taste of the Soldier Field grass. Then a funny thing happened, they were good again. And it feels like big things lie ahead. So what happened? Alien dopplegangers working on behalf of the Green Bay (what is that taste in my mouth?) Packers kidnapped the team and replaced them. Doppelgangers: monstrous humanoids, identified primarily by their ability to change their shape and appearance to mimic almost any humanoid creature. At least that's what I remember from my wasted years of endless late night sessions of Dungeons and Dragons. I mean, there is no other logical explanation.

Thanksgiving
I have to say, at age 48, holidays are not so lustrous as they were when we were kids. I mean, I found out recently that there is no Santa Claus. Which prompted the whole "Well what about the Easter Bunny?" discussion with the wife. And don't even mention the tooth fairy to me, I can't even go there. But there is one holiday I still really look forward to, Thanksgiving. No, I do not show up at some relatives house and devour everything in site for 3 hours, they come to me. And I cook. And cook. And cook some more. And I love it. I love arranging dinner for 20 or more. I start when I get off work on Wednesday, and don't stop until I sit down (stand in a corner) to eat. Yes I know I get some help (like the sister-in-law walking in a few years ago saying something like "What can I do to help?" and my reply going something like "Well you can peel those potato's for me" and her response going something like "Ha!" ...true story), but in the end, I feel great satisfaction knowing that I leave everyone with the greatest meal of the year in their bellies. Now I'm sure the wife will have a few things to add along the lines of "Worst holiday of the year" as she cleans for a week before and days after with little help from her chef husband and lazy brooding teens #1 and #2, but I still love it none-the-less.

Savior of the Birdseed

Morning coffee. The Sunday paper. No kids. As serene as it can get for The Guitarman. Until now. First saw the little bugger climbing the "squirrel-proof" pole of the bird feeder to reach the golden bounty held above. I'd like to have a word with the guy who came up with the phrase "squirrel-proof". There is no such thing. Then to my surprise, and slight amusement, he was joined by another. I watched the playful banter ensue and couldn't determine if it was a territorial standoff, or two good buds exchanging bites all in good fun. I didn't realize at the time, but it didn't matter.

Two became three, which became four, and eventually settled on five. The corn cob in the corner was long depleted of its niblets, and they were on the prowl for more. This had to stop. I took off the old man glasses, sucked down the last drops of my coffee, and went out back to put down my thing. The events that unfolded were unexpected to say the least.

GM: Um, excuse me, but just what do you think you are doing?
S#1: Fuck off, eating.
S#2: Yea, piss off before I put a cap in your homo-sapien, opposable thumb ass.

Didn't notice the other three, circling behind me.

GM: Hey, I'm just trying to do the right thing here. I give you corn, you eat it, and you in turn leave the bird seed for, I don't know, maybe the birds?
S#1: Listen up dog. We do what we want, when we want it, where we want it.
S#2: Yea, where we want it.
GM: Hey, I can get all Quentin Tarantino on your rodent empire at any given moment. You want that kind of heat?
S#1: Last warning. Go back to your forced-air heated snuggle-hut, and leave us to our fat-padding over-consumption before this gets ugly.
S#2: Yea, snuggle-hut.

That's it. It's go time.

I whipped out my Glock and spun around, firing away at anything that moved. The first went down in a sort of explosion as my 9mm projectile split his carcass in two. As I was leveling the gun at the next one, I was attacked from all sides with a flurry of flying hair, razor claws, and gnashing teeth. It was at that precise moment that the image of the smiling hardware store clerk flashed through my mind: "You really want to invite these critters onto your lawn?" Ah the un-intending wisdom of the high school senior. If only I hadn't been so presumptuous to assume that my nearly 5 decades of acquired wisdom outweighed his fledgling 1 1/2, I might not be standing on my patio looking like a used cat scratching pole.

In the end, I guess I "won". Four squirrels lay in a bloody heap on my patio, the precious bird seed saved for the Black-Capped Chickadees was safe in its' lofty perch. The last squirrel had retreated to the corner of the yard, atop the fence. His unblinking beady little eyes fixed on mine, and I'm thinking: If only I hadn't opened the curtains.

Slowing down in my old age, two minutes at a time.

As The Guitarman makes his undeniable creep towards the Big-Five-Oh, the inevitable slowly sets in. Stiffer joints (and not the good kind), cantankerousness, and the ability to focus on any one topic longer than 30 seconds. However he does have the abilty to be realistic. Hence, 7 Topics in 7 Minutes might be a little too much for the average reader to swallow, not to mention my fingers getting stiff for typing longer than it takes to watch one episode of Phineas and Ferb. So today marks the Grand Opening of my latest invention, a name that took me hours of hand wringing to decide upon, 5 Topics in 5 minutes. Okay, you got me, I am short on time this morning.

Hermain Cain
I have already decided who I am going to vote for in the Republican primary. Scratch that, it's actually who I am not going to vote for, and that includes anyone so right of center that they have to make plunging a knife into Roe vs. Wade a central issue. When I read that this representative of the Republican wing of the Republican party is actually leading opinion polls right now, it makes me wonder what in the hell ever happened to Ross Perot? Remember him? Short little wisp of a man with a shrill voice and lots of big ideas? We need another Ross Perot right now. You know, someone without any massive party affiliation dragging him back two centuries, someone to thumb his nose at the 2-party America, intent on driving America as far right or left of center as they can before they get voted out of office.

The American Candidate
Catchy, no? And a nice little segue into what could possible be the best idea ever to come out of The G-Man's head. I'm talking reality TV people. The kind that grips a nation and won't let go. You take 20 independent candidates for president, 20 Ross Perot's, people with idea's that aren't beholding to one party or the other. You stick 'em on television, where they debate each other, talk to the public, get in peoples faces, and get voted off the show one by one. In the end, you have a candidate that the entire country would know better than there own mother. If half of this country can obsess about a snotty, self-centered, drama queen named Snooki, just think about the kind of power a candidate for president can wield with that much might behind him.

Dope
Let's do some math on marijuana. What if it were legal? If you let every person out of prison currently serving a sentence on pot related charges, 178,315 people would go free, instantly saving US taxpayers $23,002,635. EVERY SINGLE DAY. That's almost $8.4 billion a year. But we're not done. If you assume that 1% of the population are daily users, and 10% are casual users, that could be around 100 million ounces consumed a year. Averaging $200 per ounce, that's nearly $20 billion in annual sales. Tax it what you want, that's a new industry, creating taxes and creating jobs. Still not done. It was estimated that we spend around $9 billion a year fighting the war on pot. Those are police man hours that could be redirected to fight real crime. And we would be putting gangs from Chicago to Mexico out of business. US prohibition on Alcohol was a massive failure, eventually putting the likes of Al Capone on ice. History proves If you don't learn from failure, you are doomed to repeat it. You can govern a people, but you can't tell them how to run their own lives. I'm just sayin'.

Scumbags
If you are a loyal reader (bored blog reader), then you remember the topic of Death from last week. A young life snuffed out in an instant by a remorseless ghoul. Well they caught the guy. John L. Wilson, who spent 17 of his last 20 years in prison, managed to spend some of his recent un-incarcerated days rehabbing (upgrading) his rap sheet by stabbing to death a 14 year girl in her own home. But stupid is as stupid does, as the crime genius (fucking idiot) stole the young girls phone, and kept texting the dead girls mom with taunts. (I know I sound like a broken record, but how the hell do we keep breeding these soul-less monsters?) All while his own phone was in his pocket. Yes, modern technology can track your cell phone anywhere, which means it can track two phones anywhere, which means that when the FBI saw the two phones curiously navigating the same path, they were able to nab the guy. One of those cases where you wish public be-heading was an option.

China
They sell us anything and everything from clothes to electronics. They refuse to import our products. They steal our manufacturing. They employ slave like labor to make their wares. And now, and most probably for years, have spies stealing our ideas too. Two cases in Chicago involving economic espionage are coming to fruition. In both cases, a Chinese national, working for an American company, are charged with stealing technical information with the intent on selling them to companies in China. One was actually at the airport with the documents in hand. And don't tell me the Chinese government isn't culpable here. They make it their business to know everyone elses business. So can someone please tell me what this country is going to do about it? And I ain't talking about throwing these 2 in the hoosegow. I am talking about our leaders being so damn cozy with the Chinese. About hitting them where it hurts. About ending the trade imbalance, and ending the pilgrimage of our jobs to a foreign land, one intent on seeing us go under. Big government America and it's current leaders don't have the will or the guts to stand up to China. But I bet the winner of The American Candidate might have something to say about that.