Trip Down Memory Lane Pt. 2- The two magic words.

After my last "puke", I got a really good response from people that loved the memories that I dug up for them.  I have a lot of memories and I like being able to put them down on here before I'm too old to remember them, which isn't that far away. 

Well since the last topic, I got to thinking deeper about the whole childhood play thing.  I got to thinking about what the difference with kids are today.  Why do they seem to play so different than we did when we were children?  I think there are several factors to that answer, but I also feel that it comes down to two little words that we would use as children just before the playtime would get AWESOME.  We would be sitting there and looking for something to do, and someone in the group would spout out these two wonderful words that would take your time together to a whole different level.  What would they say?  What was the secret to all of life unanswered questions?  What two words could possibly be so strong that they would eat up the rest of the day for us children full of fun and adventure?  Here they are folks. . . .the two magic words. . . .

"Let's Pretend. . . ."


Oh my goodness could those words change the course of your day.  You could be just running around aimlessly, which we did a lot by the way, and one of you would say, "Hey!!!  Let's pretend that we are cops and we have to go find the bad guys in the woods."  We would all get that little gleam in our eyes as the wheels started turning.  Who was I going to be.  The tough, angry cop that would take no gruff from anyone? The smart, friendly cop that would look for the clues and report my findings to the rest of the officers?  Or, even better, was I really a cop that was a BAD GUY?  I would help them discover the clues and then at the last moment, reveal that it was really me then run off laughing into the woods as they would make chase.

Then, once that scenario was finished, we would be huffing and puffing from the chase, and we would look at each other like, "What's next?"  So again, one of us would say, "Okay.  Now let's pretend that we are army men.  You guys are the Germans, and we will be the Americans!" (Cause I wasn't no Commie)  We would give them a head start to go out into the woods to hide.  We would yell, "We'll count to 100.  GO!!!"  Then we would begin our count as they took off.  The counting would always go like this:

  "1,2,3,4,7,10,14,17,20,21,23,28,30,32,39,40,47,49,50,55,57,60,62,66,69,70,74,75,77,80,89,90,91,93,

100!!!!!!!!!!"

Just to let some of you know the tricks of the count.  You would ALWAYS yell out the main numbers like, 10, 20, 30, etc. because that let the enemy know that you were counting.  Plus, it gave them a warning as to how soon you were going to unleash God's wrath upon them.  

Now two things could happen during the counting stage.  One -  They could run off and once you got to 100, you would head out after them, or. . . One of the German commies would only go a little way out so they could hear you counting.  COMMIE PIG!!!!   Then once they heard your counting infractions, they would make it known to their team.   "HEY!!!!  You're not counting right.  OLLY, OLLY, OXEN, FREE!!!  They are cheating."  Then everyone would come stumbling back and you would have to start the whole count thing again.  It was so hard NOT to cheat when chasing those Germans.  *sigh*  So then once the game would finally begin, we would go on the hunt for those Commies. 

Now you might ask, and maybe your aren't but I'm going to tell you anyways, just what were we using for guns?  Well, just about any object can be used as long as it resembled a gun in ANY shape or form.  Now a few of our friends had the luxury of actually having a couple of toy guns in their possession, those were the popular ones of the group during army time.  They would usually let one or two of us borrow one of them and that was ONLY if you were on their team.  A friend of mine had the coolest WWII toy rifle and that made all of us jealous and envious of him.  I wanted that rifle SO bad, but alas, it never came true.  Dang you Santa Clause!!! 

Now if you were one of the unlucky ones that didn't get a real, fake gun, then you had to make do with what ever you could find.  Sticks was usually the chosen item.  If you could find the perfectly shaped stick, you were in Heaven.  The perfect bend in the limb, the perfect fit in your hand, and just the right size made it fit for duty.  So once all of us 12 year old boys were "armed", we were ready for the battle to end all battles.  Well at least until tomorrow when we would do it all over again.

What were the rules?  Simple.  Find an enemy and point your stick at them and go. . . "BANG, BANG,BANG.   I got you!!!"  Then your enemy would have to not do anything but lay down for 10 seconds before they would magically come back to life and get back in the action.  Of course, you had already run off in search of more enemies to kill Rambo style.  How did we determine the winner?   I have NO earthly idea.  We just would play all day.  No need to keep score, no need to count the kills, just shot and die, rise from the dead and do it again and again.  That's what made pretend time so awesome.  We used our imagination over and over and it made it real to us.  Now sometimes we would go all out with "Let's pretend wartime".  We would dress in full camo, paint our faces in camo paint, and take canteens and food out in the woods so we could play the entire day and not have to be bothered with reality. 

That is exactly what made pretend time so great.  We escaped reality into a world of imagination and we made it real.  We were hunters, heroes, villains, soldiers, cowboys, monsters, and anything else our little minds could muster.   I think that is what is missing with the kids today.  There is roughly NOTHING that is left to their imagination anymore.  They have video games, computer games, hand held games, TV, movies, and the Internet that can show them ANYTHING they want to see.  They don't need to imagine it, they just need to know what website they need to go to find it.  I think that's what is truly sad today.  You put kids together in a room and pretty soon they are talking about what latest video game they just got, what movie they just saw, or what website they are addicted to.  There is no use for imagination.

Well I, for one, still hold on to my imagination.  I can remember simpler times when all it took to have a good time was our minds.  We didn't need electronics, we didn't need computers, and if we watched a cool movie we would run outside and act it out.  Can someone say Star Wars?  I loved pretending I was Princess Leia. . . . Um. . . .Just kidding.  I was just seeing if you were paying attention.

So once again I hope I was able to stir up another memory in one or two of you and take you back to a time when you remember those two magic words that would begin a day of adventure.  Close your eyes and think back to a time when you were surrounded by your friends and someone said. . . . .

"Let's Pretend. . . . "



Smile!!!

Trip down memory lane Pt. 1

(I'm pretty sure I will be taking these trips back to my childhood periodically, so I'm just going to call this Pt. 1.)

Let me just start out by saying, I came from a time where getting spanked was usually a daily activity and 99.9 times out of 100, I DESERVED IT.  In fact, to me, it really WASN'T a good day, until I got spanked.  That meant at least that I had some fun.  There was no taboo on spanking your kid, heck, many times it turned into a neighborhood sporting event.  Parents would run around like some scene from the Frankenstein movie.  Pitchforks and torches in hand. . .  "Get the Sweitzer kid!!!!  That boy needs a spanking!!!  He just ain't right. His mom must have dropped him on his head."  It was just an understood form of "tough love" to kids all over the neighborhood.  You knew that if you screwed up, your parents were going to find out about it from someone. All kids were fair game.  It was really nothing to see your friend that didn't go home when the street light came on,  get spanked ALL the way back to their house by their mom.  It was like a Wild West cattle herd that you saw on TV, only it took place in the Suburbs with children.  It usually happened this way.

*Explanation Break*
First however, I need to explain a few things to those that don't know about the importance of the street light.  "Back in the day", us kids only had one form of telling time.  We didn't have a cell phone to look at to see the time, we didn't bother with wearing a watch because that would have just gotten in the way, and there was NO CHANCE we were going to ask someone what time it was because that would have cost us valuable playing time.  Nope, the only form we needed was. . . the STREET LIGHT.   Yep, such a simple creation but very important to kids and parents all around the suburbs.  You see, the street light would come on just around dusk, and that was when it was time to go home. It was the neighborhood signal for all children to head inside to bathe (or at least act like you took a bath), eat dinner, and watch something on the three channels that you got on your 13 inch TV.  The street light, such a wonderful method of time if you ask me.

Second, KIDS PLAYED OUTSIDE!!!!  I know that is a weird concept, but we really did live in a different time.  We didn't have all the entertainment inside the house that the kids have now so we had to go out and create our own entertainment.  I would pretty much wake up, eat a sugar infused cereal that would get me going (my Redbull), throw on my play clothes, which usually would be the same ones from the day before, and then head out for the day only to be seen once for lunch and then at night when the street light came on.  There was so much to do and so little time to do it in.  I had the blessing of having a huge amount of woods behind my house full of creeks, trails, and dirt.  There was so much I could do back there from playing Army, riding the trails, hiding the neighbors Playboys that we "borrowed" so we could "read the articles", catching crayfish hoping they didn't pinch us, and to just get as dirty as possible until the only way I was getting back into the house was by getting hosed down from mom in the backyard.  I'm telling you right now, there was NOTHING like a freezing spray down from the hose while you stood there in your underwear.  Mom didn't give a crap about your self esteem at that moment.  You were NOT dragging dirt into her house.  That was another neighborhood show that was one for the ages.  "Let's go out and see the Sweitzer kid get hosed off wearing nothing but his underwear.  Bring the 8mm camera Marge, we might want to film it."

Most kids now however, you have to leave a trail of Playstation games that lead outside just to get them to
go outside.  They stumble out into the sun and you would swear you were watching a scene from a Vampire movie, NOT TWILIGHT.  Their overly white, pale bodies look almost translucent.  Then once they get out there, they DON'T know what to do.  They just stand there and look like a crack addict that needs a fix.  Of course, their fix is the internet, video games, or TV.  I like to pretend I'm watching a nature show.

Tonight on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.  We will view a rare sight.  A teenager outside of the house.

Narrator: "Oooo.  Look.  We can see the rare form of the domesticated U.S. teenager that has just been released into the wild.  Look at its scared face as it looks around quickly for some way to get back inside its domain.  You can tell it's nervous by the random glances back to the now closed front door.  Now look.  The teenager has taken a few steps farther away from the front door as it realizes that it is stuck outside.  Look at the pale complexion on the creature and how the beads of sweat are already forming on his brow due to the strain of actually walking outside.  It appears as though it is quite content to just stand there.  Now it appears to be reaching in it's pockets for some item.  It seems to be a small device with headphones.  The teenager now implants the earbuds inside his ears and just stands there and bobs his head.  These truly are seditary creatures".

*Explanation Break Over*

So now that I've laid the groundwork, let's go back to the Suburb cattle herding scenario.

You and your friend would be playing outside, eking out the very last moments of fun before the day ended.   "What did playing involve?" you might ask.  It involved usually just running around like a bunch of idiots with ADHD.  You would either chase lightning bugs with tennis rackets (they were like shooting stars),  playing catch with a baseball in pretty much total darkness (smart we weren't), or just doing nothing but sitting and talking while the mosquitoes impersonated Dracula and sucked the last drops of blood out of you sending you to bed itching yourself all over.  How we didn't get malaria is beyond me.

The street light had been on for awhile now and you and your friend knew the end was near.  Then you would hear the voice from down the street.    "Timmmmmyyyyyyy".  You and Timmy would look at each other and by some form of mental telepathy tell each other to act like we didn't hear it and resume playing.  Five minutes later, you would hear the banshee shriek a little louder, "TIMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY!!!".  Once again, we would convince ourselves that by some form of hearing disability, we once again didn't hear Timmy's mom.  There were still lightning bugs to turn into sick little comets, so back to work.  Ten minutes later, it would finally happen.

Being that it was now so dark out that the ONLY light we had was the street light, we didn't see the wrath that was heading our way.  Timmy's mom got sick of yelling and decided to take a more pro-active role in the herding of poor little Timmy home.  One second Timmy was swinging at a poor defenseless lightning bugs glowing booty, and the next, Timmy was being grabbed by the unseen creature known as MOTHER.  Sometimes the darkness was in the parents favor you see. Timmy would let out a yelp that would let me know that there was a disturbance in the Force.   "Why didn't you come when I called you.",  was the next words I would hear from this thief in the night.  "I didn't hear you!"  was the best response that Timmy could come up with on such short notice.  "GET HOME!!!" Mother Creature would yell and then you would see that she stopped to grab a weapon on her way there. . . .A SWITCH!!!!

*Explanation Break*  For those that don't know the rules back then, your parents could beat your behind with anything, and I MEAN ANYTHING, that was within reach of them.  I've been spanked with spoons (wooden and metal), belts, paddles, paint stir sticks, Matchbox car tracks (the orange ones), limbs off trees (that's a switch), and I swear Mom once spanked me with the dog, wrong place, wrong time for him. *Explanation Over*

Timmy's mom would bring that switch down on Timmy's behind to get his attention.  WHACK!!!!  Timmy would let out a yelp to let me know that she connected.  "GET HOME!!!"  she would yell again now that she had his attention.  The kid herding has just begun. The two of them would disappear in the darkness but I could still hear the chaos.  "GET HOME!!!"  *WHACK*  "AGHHHHH"  *WHACK* "GO!!!!!!"  *WHACK*  "AGHHHHHH.  Stop it"  I knew then that I had better get inside before MY mother came looking for me.  The yells would fade off down the street, but just before little Timmy "gave up the ghost" he would yell his last dying words to me.  "I'll SEE YOU TOMORROW!!!"  Then inside I would go to count down the moments before I could go outside again and do it all again.  It was truly an awesome time to be a kid.

SMILE!!!

Valentine Poem

Here is a public service announcement for all the men out there:

Words Matter

Some Valentine's are cheesy, just corny word's you see.

"Bee Mine" or "Ruff you" are cute, but they just are not for me.

Then some can be suggestive, a promise of some naughty act.

I can't say that I hate those, Guys do! and that's a fact.

Then others can be quite funny, they make you laugh and chuckle out loud.

A picture of a fat guy, or a cupid in a cloud.

Don't get me wrong, I like to laugh; I'm not some stuffy guy.

Though I would much rather reach her heart and maybe make her cry.

For if you get those tears of love, your night will end up well.

You'll write your OWN suggestive card and that would be quite swell.

It's when you touch upon your joy and let her feel your smile.

Of thanking her for what she brings to you mile after mile.

So think before you buy that card, just what do you want from it.

What words is it saying for you? Are the sentiments legit?

Valentine's is for the girl. They'll hold your words so tight.

So DON'T SCREW up the words you say, and you will have an epic night.

Scott Sweitzer 2/12/11

Taking Valentine's Day back.

Ladies and Gentleman, I come before you with a serious topic that I feel needs to be discussed this fine day.  I feel an answer needs to be found for a question that has burned a hole in my skull for my entire life and I’m sure the skulls of many of you men here tonight.

It’s a question soooooo serious that I feel it’s high time we get to the bottom of it and find out just who in the world came up with this one!!! 

Of course I’m talking about the question:

WHAT IN THE HECK IS VALENTINE'S DAY AND WHY DID US MEN FALL FOR IT??? 

Certainly this wasn’t a man’s doing was it??? It had to be a woman because nothing so bizarre would come from a man’s mind, could it???

Well my fine group of confused men, I’ve done the research and guess what???  It WAS a man.  A stupid convicted felon that got us into this.

Let’s take a look back and let me explain what happened and how this evil holiday came into being. The story goes:

There was a priest named St. Valentine back in Roman times. The emperor at the time, Claudius, was trying to build a great army, but he noticed that the men were not joining because they didn’t want to leave their wives behind. Well this angered Claudius, and so he passed a law that forbad anyone from getting married.

Well this hacked off St. Valentine and he decided to break the law and perform private marriages in secret.  So guess what happened next?

Claudius found out about it and had St. Valentine arrested, thrown in jail, and sentenced to death. 

A funny thing happened, the people of the town still supported St. Valentine and they threw flowers and notes to him to tell him that they still believed in Love. 

Now while he was in jail, St. Valentine befriended a daughter of one of the prison guards.

They would talk for hours at a time and she would lift his spirits and tell him that she believed that he was right in performing the marriages.

Pay attention gentlemen, here’s where it all began. Here’s where this CONVICTED FELON blew it for all of us.

On February 14, 269 A.D. St. Valentine was scheduled to die. Before his death however, he wrote a letter to the daughter of the prison guard and thanked her for her friendship and loyalty. Now at the end of the letter, here we go folks, he signed it,

“Love, from your Valentine”

There it is my fellow men. There are the four little words that put a curse upon til the end of time.  There are the 21 letters that have kept more florist, candy shops, greeting card company’s, and jewelers in business for years upon years. Never has a passage so small given the women of this world so much power.

Well it is at this time I would like to say a few things to Mr. "Blow it for the rest of us men."

Way to go you idiot!!!

Way to make all of us men pay for YOU breaking the law!!!

Thank you oh so much Mr. Valentine for crushing my little 10 yr. old heart in the 5^th grade when I opened that wonderfully decorated shoebox, manly I might add, with pink construction paper and red hearts and instead of receiving a Valentine from Susan Farkiss, I received one from Johnny Renfro that said “Beeeeeeee Mine” with a picture of a bee above it.  That really messed me up for a while I might add.

Thank you Mr. Valentine, Thank you oooooooohhhhhh so much.

It is at this time however ladies, that I would like to point out some glaring holes in this little story that could change the way we celebrate this holiday from this day forward.

#1.Does anyone else see the correlation between marriage and death??? Now I’m not saying the two are related, just giving you something to think about.

#2. St. Valentine was a priest. A priest ladies and gentleman!!!  That means that the man that started this madness took a vow never to marry or even HAVE a girlfriend. This so called “Father of Valentines” day never had to pull out his wallet and shell out his hard earned cash on a stuffed bear that says, “Squeeze Me” and “I’m Bearry fond of you”.  There was no Kay Jewelers sending him "friendly" reminders that Valentines Day was coming knowing FULL WELL that your wife is going to see that advertisement like a beacon in the night before you even get a chance to throw it away.

#3. You notice that the people threw flowers and notes to him. I didn’t read one single story of him getting a concussion from someone whipping a diamond necklace at him. No one grabbed a $64 box of Whitman Samplers and winged it at him. I’m also willing to bet that the Rome Olive Garden never had to say,   “Valentine, party of two, your tables ready.” No ladies, just flowers and notes, and the flowers didn’t cost $105 dollars back then, you just picked them!!!! They were free!!!

#4.  The people threw the gifts to HIM LADIES!!!!  TO HIM!!!!   How did you women turn that one around on us???  All this time we men were the ones that were supposed to get the gifts,  not you ladies.  Way to go men, we stepped out to watch the gladiators and we forgot WHO GOT THE GIFTS FIRST!!!

#5.  He died folks. Nuff said.

Well don’t worry my fellow men.  There’s change in the air. It’s the very legend of St. Valentines Day that will save us.

How???  You might ask.  How can we men folk take back what is rightfully ours??? How can we end the oppression on this black holiday???

WE SHALL TAKE BACK FEBRUARY 14^TH.  WE SHALL RIGHT THE WRONG AND GIVE VALENTINES DAY BACK TO WHOM IT BELONGS.

FROM THIS DAY FORWARD, WE MEN WILL BE PAMPERED AND RECEIVE LOVE AND AFFECTION FROM THE WOMEN FOLK.

FROM THIS DAY FORWARD IT IS US MEN THAT WILL BE APPRECIATED FOR OUR GIFT TO LOOK STUPID AT DOING EVERYTHING AROUND THE HOUSE IN ORDER TO GET OUT OF HAVING TO DO IT AGAIN. IT’S AN ART FORM LADIES, AN ART FORM.

WE SHALL BE WORSHIPPED FOR WHAT WE ARE, BURPING, EATING, SCRATCHING, SLEEPING MACHINES THAT MIGHT LET OF GAS EVERY NOW AND THEN AND LAUGH ABOUT IT. BUT IT’S OUR SMELL, AND IT IS GOOD!!!

LONG LIVE THE NEW VALENTINE'S DAY!!!  VIVA LA FRANCE!!!!

Now lets discuss these gifts ladies.  We need to lay down a few ground rules to make the day more enjoyable for us men.

Put aside those gifts you were brainwashed with in your secret meetings with the women elders discussing ways to make us pay, don’t think we didn’t know about those meetings. We also know there’s a handbook somewhere, but we still haven’t found it.

You can thank me now women cause I’m going to do the work for you and give you suitable gift alternatives for us men.

#1.  You can leave the whole restaurant thing the way it is cause truth be told, we like to eat.

#2.  Instead of candy . . . .we would like . . . um . . . .more candy. Because candy is good!!!

#3.  Instead of flowers . . . .a bouquet of beef jerky or medium well done steaks will suffice.

#4.  Instead of Jewelry . . . .

I think a large, HD, Plasma T.V. will do and don’t forger the surround sound cause we all know that it would be cheaper then anything you can get from Kay Jewlers.

#5.  Instead of Cards . . . . .

Cause unless there’s cash in them, we men aren’t reading them.  I think back rubs would do nicely. And not one of those you normally give us that last a grand total of 32 seconds and then your hands go limp like a dead fish and you sit there and hope we forgot what you were doing.You can work all day with your hands but when it comes time to rub us for a change you all of a sudden become little miss "Wimpy Mcfarlane" the woman with no muscles in her hands or arms.  Explain that one to us.

So there you have a few ideas ladies but feel free to substitute some of those with power tools, tickets to sporting events, computers, DVD’s, Cd’s, etc.   You know what we like so make it happen.

So in closing I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you for letting me spread the word and start the change. We all know what they say,  “It only takes a spark, to get the fire going”   So spread the word my fellow men. A new day is here, it’s our time to shine!!!

I can only think back to those four little words that St. Valentine said all those years ago that started it all,  “Love, from your Valentine”.   And once my wife reads this "puke"  I'm pretty sure I'll be saying six little words of my own. . . . .

"I’ll go sleep on the couch!"

Smile!!!!   Oh. . . .and Happy Valentine's Day

TV 101: Feeling better about yourself!

TV has it's good and it's bad.  There are shows that can lift you up, make you laugh, make you sad, make you feel all kinds of emotions that leaves a lasting impression on you.  "Back in the day", the final episode of M.A.S.H. made you feel joy and sadness all in the final ten minutes of that show.  The Sopranos left you hanging as Journey sang those famous words from "Don't Stop Believing", and most recently for me, as Scrubs came to it's final episode, I found a sense of sadness because I truly didn't want to say goodbye to my "friends" that worked at Sacred Heart Hospital.  They then had to throw in my one big weakness . . . .MUSIC. . . .to put the final nail in the coffin of my tear ducts as I watched J.D.'s final daydream montage and Peter Gabriel sang, as only he can, a truly moving song, Book of Love, that I now love and pushed this into one of my favorite, and least favorite,TV moments. 

TV is an amazing creature and with the recent bombardment of "Reality" programs, a whole new set of emotions comes into play. 

You can have Jealousy from watching a show like Cribs that shows you inside the celebrity mansions and all the toys that they spend their millions on.  I'm sorry, but watching Lil Bow Wow show off his fleet of cars when he was NOT EVEN OLD ENOUGH TO DRIVE, was almost too hard to take.  For me, I see the extravagance, and want to know where I went so wrong in my life.  Will someone PLEASE give me MY 15 minutes???

Anger can also come into play when you watch those shows that have no merit or purpose other than to show untalented humans in unreal situations.  Jersey Shore, The Kardashians, The Girls Next Door, and Kendra could all be examples of this type of show.  These are people that must have made such a deal with the Devil for their stardom.  Please don't try to tell me that Kendra is known for her acting skills.  Her claim to fame is for latching on to Hugh Hefner long enough to get her own deal out of it.  I have a feeling that on her application, all you see is an imprint of her boobs.  So the anger comes from WHY?????

The next emotion is Empathy.  We get sucked into some strangers story and we feel we know them.  We try to understand what brought them to this point.  Examples for this would be some of the stories from American Idol (just watch the story on that guy with the fiance in the wheelchair), Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, (we refuse to watch this because it will make Linda cry), and go ahead and pick any "true story" on Lifetime.  These drag you in and try to make you care about the person and the story that you are watching.

Then there is Indifference.  We watch, but we just don't really care about the people at all that we are seeing.  Shows like Project Runway, America's Next Top Model, ANY show that follows a Hollywood business like plastic surgery or tanning,  and ANY House Hunter show.  I don't care if Serge buys house Number 2 or 3.  I'm in real estate and I know that usually there is house number 26 and 32 to consider.  I don't care about the outcome of these people.  They already have it good so why bother making it better for them?

Now some shows like to hit our Competitive nature.  They pit friends, couples, families and strangers against each other to achieve the "ultimate" prize.  Survivor, Big Brother, American Idol, Amazing Race, and The Apprentice are all examples of this phenomenon.  We will sit there and watch week after week as one by one our favorites get eliminated by judges, themselves, or the World.  We root for our favorite and will fight for them with our co-workers if they are against our pick for the "next star".

Now we come to my favorite.  The shows that bring me JOY and Happiness.  The funny shows that you don't have to take too serious because their whole purpose is to make you laugh.  As a kid, my favorite show was the Muppet Show.  I still love that show and, due to one late night alone when I was single, I now have the entire Muppet Show on DVD and all it took was ONE PHONE CALL.  There have been some good comedy shows and some really bad ones.  One of the worst I can think of off the top of my head was Rosanne.  #1.  Rosanne Barr is NOT funny and #2.  They tried to tackle too many controversial topics for the time.  It's a comedy folks.  Don't make me uncomfortable!!!  My all time favorite comedy had to be Scrubs.  I loved that show and as covered in the beginning, I hated to see it end.  I gave up on comedy after Scrubs went away for some time, but with The Big Bang Theory and Modern Family, my faith is restored again in the genre.  They AIN'T Scrubs, but they will do in a pinch.

The last type I'm going to address has given me a problem in coming up with one emotion to pigeonhole it into.  I get Joy, Sadness, Laughter, Peacefulness, Shame, Pity and a real "Holier than thou" response out of these.  I mean, that the mere fact of watching these shows makes me feel better about myself.  Some perfect examples of these types of shows would be:  Redneck Wedding, Bad Girls Club, ANY relationship show on MTV, World's Dumbest, etc.   These shows show you the underbelly of society.  Take Redneck Wedding.  Anyone that thinks camouflage makes a perfect wedding dress has some SERIOUS issues.  If roadkill becomes decorations for your wedding, you have some SERIOUS issues.  If instead of exchanging vows, you exchange your chewing tobacco, YOU HAVE SOME SERIOUS ISSUES!!!!  Trust me, I get it! You are Redneck, but do you have to prove it on national TV.  I will say though, I feel so much better about myself after watching that show.  YEEEEEEE  HAWWWWWWW I'm semi-normal!!!! 

But there is a newer show that to me was the whole reason I wanted to write this "puke".  I will admit that I watch it every week, partially thanks to Linda, but partially because it just takes me to my "happy place".  I'm able to watch this show and be reminded that maybe, just maybe, I'm not that bad of a parent, spouse, or person. It's a full hour of head shaking, snorting, rewinding just to make sure we did see what we just saw, and an overwhelming sense of peace that I am not like this, and my parents weren't like this.  Maybe some of you have guessed the show I'm talking about by now, but in case you haven't, I'm talking about . . . . . . .wait for it. . . . . . Toddlers and Tiaras!!!!!!

What a visit into a horrible, horrible world.  It's like hopping on an amusement ride called, "Holy Crap" and being taken through the fun house known as kiddy pageants.  For those of you that haven't watched this little gem, it follows the world of kids beauty pageants.  It shows you the kids, the parents, and everything that happens for these little tyrants to get up on that stage and "strut their stuff".  Not only do you get to see the kids embarrass themselves, but you also get to see the two creatures that spawned them, their parents.  It's usually just the mom you get to see, but on rare, special occasions, the dad is right there to show off his stupidity.  Trust me when I say that if you are a parent, WATCH THIS SHOW!!!  It is a free lesson on what NOT to do with your kids if you want them to turn out okay.  I give you a sample:

How many of you just sat there and said, "I can't believe this.  Do you know what would have happened to me if I would have done this as a kid with my parents?"  I will tell you this, I would STILL be drinking out of a straw and not remembering too much of my childhood due to head trauma.  Watching the way the parent pander and bend to these little Diva's wills is an incredible thing to watch.

The other side of it is watched what lengths these parents will go to for these stupid, "Future Stripper" pageants.  You will usually see a shot of the lovely home, which usually involves the words Mobile and Home being together.  Then you will hear them talk of all the money they spend on getting these Divas ready for their big debut at the "Little Miss Hog Holler Pageant" in some Midwest state.  Thousands spent on a dress, hundreds spent on fake teeth, tanning, hair, nails, and my favorite, pageant lessons.  The "lessons" usually entail some lady standing there while the girl runs around and tells everyone "NO!  I don't want to do that.  Kiss my Butt Mommy." (the mom will usually kiss it BTW)  Throw in the travel, hotel, meals and entrance fees, and they have invested literally, THOUSANDS of dollars on EACH pageant.  I'm sure you are saying, "But they have a chance at winning right?  That must pay well?"  Here's the kicker for ya.  Most times, the winning prize isn't over $500!!!!!   That's right!  You sink $3,000-$5,000 into something that you are going to get $500 at most out of doesn't seem like a good investment if you ask me!   

THEN, you get to watch the "Future Bambi of America Pageant" in all it's glory.  Now the editors of the show can really make it sound as though there are hundreds of people in the audience cheering for the little Divas, but strangely, you can only see about 20 people in the room and THEY AIN'T CLAPPING.  They all have this, "Dear God get me out of here." blank stare on their faces.  So you watch as each "contestant" does their thing wondering the whole time, WHY?  If I saw a girl walking down the street like these little freaks walk, I would seriously consider crossing the street to get away from this female robot coming at me.  Now being kids, they tend to get tired as the day rolls on.  So what does any good parent do in this high pressure situation?  They cram Red Bull and Pixie Stixs in the kids at dosages that would wake the dead!!!   I watched one little girl polish off 10 Pixie Stixs after her parents gave them to her, and then watch the parents wonder WHY SHE WAS NOT FOCUSED!!!!   It's because she's about to go into a sugar coma you idiots!!!!   What a great way to get your kids prepared for cocaine.  "Here Suzy.  Roll a dollar and snort some Cherry sugar to get you "in the zone".  Now wash it down with a Red Bull."  I'm waiting to see a kid actually explode onstage.  There are so many more fine points that I could talk in depth about, but I think I got my point across, which is. . . . WATCH THIS SHOW!!!!  I need the ratings to stay up so they go another season. 

So thank you Hollywood for bringing me pure joy in myself for the way I'm parenting.  Thank you for letting me see America's "Sweethearts" and their families in all their dysfunctional glory.  The next time you happen to be feeling down and need a pick me up.  Don't reach for the bottle, don't reach for that ice cream, just reach for the remote and get yourself a heaping dose of Toddlers and Tiaras,  you'll thank me!!!!

SMILE!!!