Reflections on Restoring Honor

Normally, I find Glenn Beck to be just mildly annoying. He’s like a mosquito that buzzes in your ear – not biting, not landing – just perpetually floating without fail and creating an annoying hum in your ear. However, Beck’s resent actions are totally inexcusable. He is having a rally in order to restore honor to our nation. When I first heard of this idea, I thought, honestly, that it was a joke. A talking head from spin central is going to restore my nation’s honor? I’ll get Hugh Hefner right on restoring my modesty while we’re at it.

The first problem with this is obvious. My honor is not in need of restoration. Neither is that of my nation – not, at least, in the sense that Beck believes. He claims we are only as honorable as our virtues – a word he uses, dare I say, liberally – are in proper alignment. Acting more like a man at the pulpit than at the podium, Beck plays the sensitivities of his followers. He evokes humility when it looks best – calling up soldiers – both of the current conflict and wars past when convenient. My heart broke for them because not only had they served our country and lost, without doubt, something significant in each instance, but now they seemed to be losing something more. In the closing prayer, I man who had lost his face in Vietnam was paraded out after having the more grotesque details of his injuries retold by Beck. He told a story of loss in the name of defending freedom. He prayed to God that our troops be protected. The whole time he was standing there, Sarah Palin, failed governor and current talking head, was standing behind his left shoulder shaking her head in agreement. Beck stood to his right. He was bookmarked by two terrible people who spend day and night cooking up ways to brainwash the people into giving up their babies to warfare, giving up their shores to drilling, and giving up their dreams to inequality. I kept thinking, “This guy deserves better than this.” Though I’m a peaceful person, I don’t think there was anything wrong with this man’s honor – or that of the nation he served in the military – and I think it is pretty fucking smug of Beck to assume so. Using people is not bringing honor to them. If you really want to honor our veterans, Mr. Beck, help us get out of our military conflicts so no more of them have to become memories that never walk through the doors of their family homes again. Just today I saw a news snippet of a nineteen-year-old child who died in Iraq. The honorable thing to do would be to really learn from all these casualties we keep racking up and work to stop them. The only silver lining to this event is that the money raised – after Mr. Beck and his crew’s expenses – went to a very worthy charity, the Special Operations Warrior Foundation.

The second reason I’m coming down on Beck has to do with Mr. Beck’s own integrity. He’s a liar. He said – on national television – that the date of his rally wasn’t chosen for any particular reason other than it was the only free day in everyone’s schedules where the stars aligned. Bullshit.

I don’t really care that Beck chose to have his ‘Restoring Honor,’ rally on the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s, ‘I Have a Dream,’ speech. I don’t care that it was in the same location as Dr. King’s famous speech. I do care, however, that Beck claims that the logistics of this event are just coincidence – the result of open nooks and crannies within the bowels of conservative crony schedules and surprisingly open venues. There is no way – no way – that it just happened to be that the anniversary of the most remembered and cherished speech of the civil rights movement happened to be the same day when nothing much was going on in the spin factory and the Lincoln Memorial was free. What’s appalling isn’t that Beck thought to utter this lie in the first place – he’s a snake and that’s what snakes do – what’s appalling is that he said it on national television with a look on his face that said, “I know you’re going to believe me even though this is bullshit.” I mean, he should have just come out and said, “Yeah, I know this is an important day. I want to put my mark on it – whether it is a shine or a stain.” At least that would have carried the weight of honesty.

Beck tried his best to seem holy, but to me he just came off as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He evoked the word God more times, I believe, than the Rev. Dr. King in his famous speech. It seemed semi-sacrilegious to me – like using God to advertise Foldgers Coffee, or “The View,” or something like that. He made God seem like a patriot – on our side (America’s side) and our side alone.

The most terrifying thing about this event, though, wasn’t the man of the hour. It was the misguided nonsense he was spewing out into the atmosphere. It wasn’t the fact that the media was lapping up his nonsense. No, the most terrifying thing about this event could be found in the reflecting pool at the national mall. Beck’s followers, ready to take his message anywhere to anyone, gathered in staggering numbers. There stood apostles of a fake messiah, waving handmade signs and sporting Beck-inspired t-shirts. I didn’t feel honorable watching this unfold on television. All I felt was shame.

Take this job and… Quarterlife Work: Freelance vs Corporate

Do you like working in your underwear? Do you prefer a 401K and dental coverage? Quarterlifers have more opportunities than ever to find unique paths of employment. What are the pros and cons of each? Our diverse panel debates freelance and corporate avenues of work. Music by Industrial Jazz Group and David Kraut.

Dude! You Are Getting a Dell!

You might remember this catch phrase used by Dell Computers for its commercial ad campaigns during the early 2000’s. The actor was so popular he was fondly labeled the “Dell Kid“, got a spread in Tiger Beat and was being courted by Spielberg. Then he got caught smoking pot and his career went into the same. You would have thought the Austin police department would have been more forgiving. (See Matthew McConaughey, naked bongo, the Bush twins, public intoxication, George W. and DUI) But, whatever. This little article is more about the computing side of things than the various addictive attributes of today’s cultural icons (See President Obama, smoking, Michelle Obama and Illinois practicing law ethics disbarment).

I did, indeed, get a Dell this past week. Like all quarter lifers, I was pretty much raised and reared on electronic gizmos. Nintendo, Internet, Cell Phones, DVD, etc. Yet, 20-somethings take’ em for granted. The day my computer was to arrive, it was like Christmas. Because of the tracking software program at Dell, I even knew the hour when the little package was to arrive. When I heard the big diesel engine of the FedEx truck it was like Santa’s reindeers’ hooves on the rooftop. I ran outside, scribbled something like a signature and off I went inside with my new toy.

Boy how things have changed. The last computer I got came in three separate boxes, one for the uber monitor, the desk top and sundry things, and lastly the key board. The monitor box was big enough to make a fort out of. Which I did later on. Yes, this was just Christmas 2003 and some of us mature at different rates.

Well, my current wonder of technology came in one box, the size of a hefty attentive boyfriend’s gift of Valentine’s Day chocolates. Inside were three back up disks, the laptop and a power cord. I plugged it in, heard the musical charms of a computer booting up and five minutes later I was up on the Net with the capacity to surf porn so fast Superman would get a blister. I kid. Really I do. There is no way Superman could ever get a blister, he is the Man of Steel.

I took a moment to pause. Dude! You have it easy. All this tech stuff makes life so convenient, so complex at times, but a lot better no matter what. And Dude! You don’t even appreciate the changes that have occurred in your short life. It is almost too easy. Standing on the shoulders of giants and such. So in a zen moment of clarity, I put the new plaything away. I had been without a computer for a week and I thought I was going crazy. But, life went on. Maybe the same could be done with the cell, the texting, cable, etc.

And up ‘til this posting I turned them all off. A full week without any of the things that seemed to be so important. I actually like that I carried around a nice little leather notebook, pencil in hand and was not only able to survive, but enjoyed the tactile sense of writing, the lack of audio intrusions of cell phone beeps and the constant eye pollution from the television.

Sure, I am back up, reentering the world I cannot totally Robinson Crusoe away from. But, this time I refuse to reload into the Matrix. Dude! I got a Dell, but it and all of its electronic cronies will not own me.

I indeed did get a Dell this past week. Like all quarter lifers, I was pretty much raised and reared on electronic gizmos. Nintendo, Internet, Cell Phones, DVD, etc. Yet, 20-somethings take’em for granted. The day my computer was to arrive, it was like Christmas. Because of the tracking software program at Dell, I even knew the hour when the little package was to arrive. When I heard the big disiel engine of the FedEx truck it was like Santa’s reindeers’ hooves on the rooftop. I ran outside, scribbled something like a signature and off I went inside with my new toy.

Boy how things have changed. The last computer I got came in three separate boxes, one for the uber monitor, the desk top and sundry things & then lastly the key board. The monitor box was big enough to make a fort out of. Which I did later on. Yes, this was just Christmas 2003 and some of us mature at different rates.

Well, my current wonder of technology came in one box, the size of a hefty attentive boyfriend’s gift of Valentine’s Day chocolates. Inside were three back up disks, the laptop and a power cord. I plugged it in, heard the musical charms of a computer booting up and five minutes later I was up on the Net with the capacity to surf porn so fast Superman would get a blister. I kid. Really I do. There is no way Superman could ever get a blister, he is the Man of Steel.

Long story short. I took a moment to pause. Dude! You have it easy. All this tech stuff makes life so convenient, so complex at times, but a lot better no matter what. And Dude! You don’t even appreciate the changes that have occurred in your short life. It is almost too easy. Standing on the shoulders of giants and such. So in a zen moment of clarity, I put the new plaything away. I had been without a computer for a week and I thought I was going crazy. But, life went on. Maybe the same could be done with the cell, the texting, cable, etc.

And up til this posting I turned them all off. A full week without any of the things that seemed to be so important. I actually like that I carried around a nice little leather notebook, pencil in hand and was not only able to survive, but enjoyed the tactile sense of writing, the lack of audio intrusions of cell phone beeps and the constant eye pollution from the television.

Sure, I am back up, reentering the world I cannot totally Robinson Crusoe away from. But, this time I refuse to reload into the Matrix. Dude! I got a Dell, but it and all of its electronic cronies will not own me.

Happy Together: a Review of The Dollyrots’ A Little Messed Up

The first taste I got of A Little Messed Up was at a small, dank bar on the edge of historic Ybor City. It was a rare Floridian freeze – the temperature had dropped below forty and all the natives were looking for warmth in the form of companionship and whatever flowed on tap that night, me included. Though the space was dense with people, a chill still mingled through the air and filled the empty spaces between our coats, jeans, and bodies. That all changed when The Dollyrots hit the stage. They started with a cover of Melanie’s Brand New Key and kept favorites from their first two releases coming. At times, it felt more like a sing-a-long than a show, with the crowd joining in for every song.

There came a point, though, when bassist and lead Kelly (after heckling the crowd about how her youth soccer league kick their youth soccer leagues’ collective asses) announced they would be playing a few new songs from their album that they pinky swore would be coming out soon. I felt my cynical spirits lower – the party was over and the promotion was beginning. I couldn’t have been more wrong. They started off with Some Girls, a super-catchy number about romantic disinterest. Somewhere in the back of my cerebral space, that song was stuck – on loop – until their album’s recent release.

The rest of the record is just as addictive. Though this album definitely has a harder edge to it than their previous releases, it is without a doubt a pop album with a lean to punk rock. In fact, I’d venture to refer to it as bubble gum punk – bright, bubbly, and catchy as hell. You can tell it is a trio of people who enjoy playing music for the sake of playing together. It comes through in every note.

There’s nothing too technically impressive about A Little Messed Up, but the total package works well. The album is cohesive without being boring – each song has its own feel while being distinctly Dollyrots. Harder, rougher tracks like Bigmouth take you on a virtual time warp back to simpler, more direct time in girl-fronted rock – - think of The Breeders circa 1993. Kelly brings it with great licks on the bass, and Luis delivers completely on guitar. Don’t get too nostalgic, though, because pop-explosions like Om Nom Nom will throw you slamming into the present digital age and have you wondering if it is possible for lolcats to write lyrics. The album’s first single, California Beach Boy, isn’t that memorable, but it is a nice change-up to a summer filled with images of “California Gurl” Katy Perry ejaculating whipped cream on sandy shores.

The album has nice flow, too, with the sweetly sobering Rollercoaster gliding into the midst of the album without being a downer. It provides a good shift in tempo – allowing for some calm in the middle of the storm – without being a disruptive break from the party. It is calming without being disarming.

The album also includes two covers: The Turtles’ Happy Together and Bobby Darin’s Dream Lover. Covers are a strong suit of The Dollyrots, and these are no exception. This little couplet of songs that throw back to a simpler time is a perfect end to the album. These two songs put the listening experience to bed like a nice rock n’ roll lullaby.

All in all, The Dollyrots have a good time on this album, and I think it’s nice of them to bring us along for the ride. Turns out, A Little Messed Up is absolutely fine.

Parent Trapped

The Today Show kind of freaks me out. I mean, Matt Lauer seems like one of those mannequins from those campy Old Navy commercials, and Lester Holt is always on television – ever present and wafting through the atmosphere, like Jesus or the flu virus.

I recently had a few weekdays off of work, though, and discovered that there’s nothing interesting on daytime television. If any network executive ever brags about The Today Show’s ratings, he or she should get punched in the throat for being such a schmuck because there is nothing that glorious about beating out infomercials for the Shark Steam Vac or reruns of Sister Sister.

So, as I sat on the couch with remote fatigue, I settled on giving The Today Show another crack. Dina Lohan, Lindsay Lohan’s mother, was on television talking to Matt Lauer about her famous daughter’s unfortunate trips down the rabbit hole that had landed her in jail. I don’t know much about Lindsay Lohan aside from the fact that she was in Mean Girls, and that’s an awesome movie to watch when you start to feel nostalgic for high school. She rattled on about going to various rehab clinics and how her daughter was now doing better and how it was the media’s fault for following her around all the time – blah, blah, blah. I was wondering, while blindly watching, who could possibly find this interesting when something happened that did peak my interest. Matt Lauer asked Lohan if she thought her daughter would die an early death and, after much skirting, she said something along the lines of, “I don’t foresee that.” You don’t foresee it? Seriously? What are you, a Magic 8 ball?

I got a creepy feeling all over me, and I knew exactly why. Why type of mother answers a question like, do you expect your kid to keel over dead at any moment from a constant diet of paint thinner, speed, and diet cola with such a flippant, generic response? I know what my mom’s response would have been; she would have said, “Fuck no, Matt Lauer, and fuck you for even asking that – I would never let that happen!”

Even if your mother has no control over the situation at all, she’s supposed to imagine that she would have the power to protect you from yourself. That’s what parents – good ones – do. They are able to do it because, hopefully, they’ve been practicing your whole life. I thought to myself right then, “Wow, no wonder this Lindsay broad is so messed up.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a blame-your-parents kind of chick. I’m plenty messed up, and I know it had absolutely nothing to do with my folks (who are amazing parents, by the way). There was just something so cold and surface about that comment. The way that it was packaged to seem innocuous made it that much more chilling. It was pretty clear that the whole thing was a package – her daughter was a package to her. The more I listened to carefully crafted phrases and the inflection of her dialog, the more I started to be reminded of that ice-queen reporter and capital bitch Suzanne Stone Maretto from To Die For. The only difference I could see was Maretto was fictional. The former Mrs. Lohan appeared to be, at least physically, existing in reality – even if just barely.

I’ve got to disagree with the principle thesis of her defense that fame had caused her daughter’s downward spiral. I don’t think fame screws people up unless they let it. I, of course, don’t know this first-hand as a nobody, but I can imagine that there’s some control factor there or else everyone that was ever on the cover of People Magazine or in The Mickey Mouse Club would die at twenty-seven of
an overdose and be found sprawled out naked, needle in arm in their shower. Some celebrities survive and grow up and all that – so I don’t think it is like fame is the toxin. (Though that’s the angle that Mama Lohan was pitching.) Why would Betty White be allowed to work her way through the corn maze of fame without so much as a paper cut while others seemed to be bleeding to death at some sort of fame
altar?

I’d pretty much had enough of the carnage myself for the day. I was still convinced that the Today Show sucked, and now I felt a little bit dirty myself for watching it. I looked at the two plastic people staring at each other on television. They were talking, but they weren’t saying much.

Quarter Life Grinding VI – The Final Grind?

With spring I have been busy, almost too busy to grind many a gear. But, that does not stop me from a short list this week. You know what really grinds my ¼ life gears?

Fuck
The word. Truly the wonder of all words. Can be used as a verb, adverb, noun, adjective, anything you want. But, with such ease of form and function, it is desperately being overused. Use sparingly my ¼ lifers.

Barnes & Noble
Flash back: My quarter life 1998 geek hang out was B&N. Now it is just pathetic. The brass on the door knobs is gone. The bathrooms smell like my 1998 quarter life locker room. And I think they even have stopped selling books.

Sex and the City
I never liked the whole idea of three whores and their mother influencing a whole ¼ life generation of girls, boyfriends forced to watch, and confused young men. I sure as hell hate the idea that this franchise has yet another movie coming out with all its intrigues about shoes. Plus, like Barnes & Noble…the owners and costumers are just getting older. The combined age of the cast is 1,324 years. Miss Jessica Parker? Do us all a favor and follow your husband, Matthew Broderick’s advice. Take a day off. Or better yet…call it a career.

Rehab
I suppose if you go in to rehab, all sins can be forgiven. Who needs Jesus and the guilt of the Catholic church for sex addiction when you can just go to Dr. Drew?

History Channel
Monsters? UFOs? Swamp loggers? Ice Road Truckers? In my quarter life brain it sounds more like a televised fan convention combining the best of sci-fi and porn.

Roses
Ever since Feb 14th. They are the first of about fifty pollinating plants that give me allergies. “You’ll grow out of it,” said my doctor. Well here I am in my QL and I am still a snot nosed brat.

Congress
You know what a group of owls is called? Like a gander of geese? It is called a congress of owls. The owl has always been a symbol of wisdom. But it is actually one of the oldest and therefore stupidest birds on the evolutionary top 100. Did I ever tell you how much I adore irony?

Pizza Conglomerates
Tried the new Dominos. Yep, tasted just like same crap I ate at my 11th birthday party where I got my first kiss. Was the same cardboard I had in the college dorm. I got a free pizza coupon if you must know. And it turned out the delivery lady was the same girl I kissed years ago. She just finished up her PhD, but is still looking for work.

Chocolate
OH! I know? Can he say that on the internet? Yes quarter lifers. Some of us do not get into the whole coco thing. It’s okay. It’s fine. I guess it is more the people who go orgasmic about it which grind my gears. It’s always some 30-something girl with 5 cats and self esteem problems, proudly proclaiming in an over smoked voice, “Oh, I love ANYTHING…with CHOCOLATE.” Don’t go that way QL’s.

AFV. America‘s Funniest Home Videos.
I love a good ball, bat, leg, shoe, pellet gun, fish hook to the groin like anyone else. Well, I like to watch it, not be on the receiving end. But, the other day I caught an episode. And on good old family friendly ABC, Disney owned AFV…can you use the word junk or cooch on television? It was just ¼ life unsettling that I might be maturing enough to be offended by dirty words.

And sadly we are at the end…

Fee, fau, fum,
I smell the blood of an English man,
Be alive, or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread

Say what you will of my gripes. My grinding of gears. At least I never threatened a boy and his beanstalk or gave nightmares to children with my grinding. Really? Grind his bones into bread? This is what we got read to as kids? No wonder we quarter lifers are so fudged up!

Wikipedia And My Quarter Life Crisis!

I was clicking around Wikipedia for some materials to plagiarize from when I came upon an actual entry for the Quarter Life Crisis. Yea, I said it…Wikipedia. Where else is a ¼ Lifer supposed to get his or her information?

Like a medical diagnosis from WebMD, Wiki listed off the symptoms of the Quarter Life Crisis. Here are just a few quotes and highlights:

Lack of friendships or romantic relationships, sexual frustration and involuntary celibacy.
That sounds more mid-life to me. I guess even ¼ Life Viagra Jr., social network sites and texting just did not turn out to be wonder relationship builders they were touted to be.

Realizing that the pursuits of one’s peers are useless.
Wow…talk about negative Nelly.

Confronting one’s own mortality.
Morbid to extremes. I think most of us already have come face to face with the fact we will some day slough off the mortal coil. Three reasons we wished for death early or saw that it would come one day. A. When we were kids we watched Lucas cinematically rape Star Wars. B. That one chick at spring break who had to have her stomach pumped of Everclear liquor. C. SARS, Staph, Swine flu, MRSA, Bird flu, H1N1, super AIDS and the fact that even making out can give you a death strep.

Watching time slowly take its toll on your parents, only to realize you are next.
Damn Wikipedia. You are just a little ray of sunshine for the Y Generation aren’t ya?

Disappointment with one’s job
Shut up! Welcome to the Real Frigging World. That is no crisis. For most, that is just a fact, Jack!

Nostalgia for university, college, high school or elementary school life
Okay maybe I do long for the past glories of my youth. Maybe that means I am ¼ life crisis level 1. Maybe my Zoloft is not working. Maybe we all rightfully think back to a time when we could pull three all-nighters in a row, could recover from a hangover with a breakfast taco buffet, had a month off for the Holidays and couldn’t shake a text book without hitting some male or female tale. Is that so wrong? And…the last part, “elementary” nostalgia? What? Wiki thinks my ¼ life crisis can be cured by nap time.

Tendency to hold stronger opinions
Heaven forbid, a Quarter Lifer should be mature enough to have solid feelings on a variety of subjects.

Boredom with social interactions
Well, Facebook and Farmville are not exactly social interactions, so I do not know how you could be bored.

Financially-rooted stress (overwhelming college loans, unanticipated high cost of living, etc.)
Okay…that does suck. But, better start dealing with it…ain’t gonna get any economically better anytime soon.

Desire to have children
True, the bio clock might be ticking. Don’t do anything rash. Guys wear a love glove and check that medicine cabinet to make sure she is up to date on her pill…and don’t swallow that whole Nuvo Ring story. Ladies? Do I have to tell’ya never to trust guys and the idea of exact timing? Everyone. Children are never the answer to help anyone out of a crisis. Fix up your shit before you screw up someone else’s.

A sense that everyone is, somehow, doing better than you.
Trust me they are not. And you should never try to keep up with the Jones.

It is a shame the whole classic legend that the Chinese word for crisis is also the same word for opportunity. I like to think it is true. I also like to believe that a ¼ Life Crisis as defined by Wikipedia sounds more like the same helicopter parenting, Ritalin dogma that put so many ¼ lifers in an awkward social world. And no matter whose definition or symptoms you use, crisis will come, how you deal with it will decide if it also a chance for positive ¼ life change.

Now…where are my pills?

Job Advice? Net versus Reality. Who ya got?

All too often in these days of utter economic gloom, the college degree
meaningless and the corner “spare some change man?” guy’s job looking
better and better…we get a lot of quick, cheesy short lists from so called
career experts. Sites like Yahoo finance, AP news, Forbes, etc. Here are
some titles you have probably enjoyed: Top Ten Careers Not Downsizing.
Cities Weathering the Recession. $100k Jobs without a College Degree. All
promise employment bliss, if you can just quit your current 20-something
life, move and erase everything you ever did and start again. Not exactly
a Quarter Life option.

Not gonna happen, not likely and not reality.

Then again…

So, I thought to put together a cliche top ten list of careers that are
totally, utterly going to need big time numbers, pay well and not laying
off for the next 50 years.

Tattoo Removal Surgery Tech – Lots of people are going to need, “I love La
Cretia” removed when they marry “Michelle” and Michelle will need her
tramp stamp removed so she can get the wedding dress she always
wanted. And hubby will need to get that promotion, so the little “I
pretended I was a gangsta” tattoo he got at Boulder Community College
will need to come off. And the Black and Decker sand-belter is just not
going to be covered by Obama health care.

Techie – Some of these magical nerds are your company computer guys with
Cheetos stained fingers and lord over you as if his World of Warcraft
fantasy extended over the whole office floor. Others are big time main
framers who decide the fates of billions of dollars and many smaller
developing nations. Ergo, you will always have a job, because idiots like
me only understand control-alt-delete.

Manga Cartoonist – Hey it‘s not just a Japanese marketing gizmo. This
pseudo porn artwork and the male fetish for school girl panty heroines
makes this a solid bet if you have a penchant for the Quarter Life
artistic.

Holodeck Programmer – They do not exist yet. But when they do…wham! You
thought porn, the X-Files and South Park drove the internet in the 90’s!
The 2000’s were about Facebook and YouTube? The 21st tweens are all
holograms baby! Of course you will be one of the many causes for the fall
of humanity, but so has any person who ever blogged.

Artificial Food Additive Taster – Despite the organic, green, eco-fad,
people found out that the real taste of strawberry is not the wow factor
one gets from an ultra X-treme Flava Crystal Jolly Rancher with edible
habanera, cilantro mango chutney wrapper. Dow Industries is back in the
driver’s seat again, coming up with simple cancer causing formulas to help
deal with the reality that nature is just not that good tasting. Your QL
demographic taste buds are just what’s needed in this once again thriving
industry.

Sanitation Engineer – Not sure if I like the PC term for that. ¼ Lifers are
trash makers. Sure they recycle, but someone still has to pick and sort
that crap. The stuff keeps coming, is piling up and you can be there to
get it done. Did you know that a waste disposal expert…garbage man, in NYC
gets paid $70k per year? Think about that the next time you throw the
Dasani bottle in the recycle bin.

Marketing Chicks – Not just the realm of girls with speech communications
degrees anymore. But, with the influx of males with useless degrees there
was a glut in the market of warm bodies taking up cubicle room playing
solitaire, texting and IMing each other the latest OMG gossip or Fantasy
Football stats. Since companies cut way back on these drones in
2007-9, they now need them back. And it turns out that the ladies are
much better at these Power Point presenting, PR decision, meeting making,
lunch attending jobs than males. So dust off those Anne Taylor pant suits
ladies…ya’ll are back!

Soldiers – You’ve seen the world today. Ya think this time honored
profession is going away anytime soon? After the oldest profession in the
world, prostitution, this one is next and probably provides a sizable
portion of the income/market share of the former. And yes, for the ¼
dudes out there. You should have already signed up for Selective
Service…it’s the law. But, the draft scare for a quarter lifer draft ends
at 28. Ladies…knock yourselves out. Be All You Can Be, Army of One, The
Few, The Proud, AccelerateYour Life…visit new places, meet new people and
then kill them. Plus the medical and dental…three square a day is a lot
better than lots of places.

Internet List Maker – Duh.

Guest Star Appearance on the Simpsons – Of course for this one, you have
to become a flash in the pan star or have so much camp value like Betty
White. So this is sort of a long term project, but I think it is good to
have big goals. And we know the Simpsons are not going away, no matter how
long it stays in the rut of stale, boring and not funny.

There ya have it. Money, career satisfaction and job security can be all
yours. No go get out of your pajamas and make it happen!

Infomercial Quarter Life Sex Tips!

I was up late one night and surfing television channels. I had no Netflix, the DVR was on the rag, the Red Box was empty and I was just so Facebooked out with the web. Ergo, I was bored. Well, I came across a late night home shopping channel. This particular infomercial segment was putting the wares up for sale with the usual call-ins, hand models, “if you call in the next fifteen minutes…” monologues, etc.

Only thing different was the items ranging from $9.99 to a whopper of $149.99 (you’ll get the whopper comment in a second)…were the full range of sex toys. Dildos, vibros, gels, condoms, butt plugs with enema pump included…oh my! And my favorite was the silver bullet. You insert it into some orifice and then whenever your boy or girlfriend cell calls said bullet…it goes off with a surprise vibration. I am not sure what Twittering it would do.

Now this was a classy show. Nothing pervy. I did not feel like I was going to get an extra line item on my pay per view cable bill or that I needed to wash my eyeballs or hands. What did make it a little creepy was the seemingly open, lack of any hint of embarrassment or recognition that their products…

“Oh yes Cathy. Now this particular piece is made our of imported Venetian glass and has those all important ball bearings for stimulation. And it is 100% dishwasher safe.”

I think that sums it up. So I got to thinking. Quarterlifers grew up around the Reagan 80′s of “Just say no” to the 90′s Nike “Just do it!” Now it is a free for all sexual wise, nothing is too taboo, nothing off limits, nothing you cannot blog, blab, view, catch, download, etc. But, no matter the times, the generation or the subject matter, some rules always apply. Especially with 1/4 lifer sexuality.

Here is what I got out of the television hosts, their items for sale, overall show, and how it relates to our Gen Y sexual lives.

1. First, they said it right off the bat. Make sure what ever you do can be washed off. Physically that is. Think antibacterial. But, some emotional stains can be harder to scrub out. Like when Greg used you as a starter girl at prom.

2. On the same point, always be dishwasher safe when it comes to sex. The safe sex laws still should be enforced. No glove equals no love…and if you are thinking long term relationship, everyone needs to put on their big girl and boy panties and get some blood tests.

3. Two for one is not always a bargain. Unless you are into that sort of thing.

4. It can be fun to shop around, but do not always impulse buy. I ended up getting a 3-pack Magic Wand kit with edible body crayons. Not sure why I thought this would make a good Christmas gift. Same thing applies sexually. What sounds like a good idea at the bar, in the back of the Celica, later in the apartment Jacuzzi, your balcony, roommates bed…is not the winning buyer’s dream you thought 12 tequila shots in.

5. Be careful what 1/4 life company you keep. Like the call-in buyers, partners in the boudoir who only come alive at 3:00 AM are alcoholics, unemployable or vampires.

6. Home, web, 1-8/900 shopping is a lot like surfing the internet for porn or just living a relationship through your Farmville. Get out…get a life…and get some. Healthy-wise that is.

7. Shop-a-holics are addicts. There is an emotional high that comes with purchasing items. Sure there are addictions for just about everything including sex, co-dependency, emotional bi-polar dramas, fears of commitment or abandonment. Don’t let any of those monkeys on your back.

8. Everything has a limit. Your credit card and your emotional life. Beware of shopper’s remorse in all phases of your quarter life.

9. There was this one item that had more special components, bells & whistles than a luxury German import sports car. I think it was actually manufactured by a division of Porsche. Anyhows. It came with vibro beads, 10-speed setting with turbo boost, had a heating element, was rechargeable and included a three prong attachment for multiple orifices. It lit up in four “hypno” colors as well. And the “hypno” was actually trademarked. Best of all was the sales ladies were harping on the fact the device did not use batteries. “Better for the environment, eco-friendly Cathy.” Okay…long story short. Life is complicated, sex is pretty simple when it comes down to it, relationships are both. The less add-ons the better.

10. Classic advice: There is a sucker born every minute. Can we say double entendre for shopping and sexual bargains.

Grinding My Quarter Life Gears V

And no that is not a title of a porn. Though it would be a good one. I remember this one time when I was a senior in high school. I was in charge of procuring a dirty flick for a friend’s send off party before he shipped out to boot camp for West Point. Well, I was a pretty innocent fellow, but I was sharp enough to know Blockbuster was not going to be able to handle the request. So I headed off to the more neighborhood friendly video store.

Well, I thought it was just a small mom and pop shop that stayed open late and with ample parking in the back of the store. Needless to say, I was shocked…appalled…a little impressed and way over my head. I panicked and quickly picked out a movie. But, I also remember how my brain went through the process.

“Okay…lots of weird covers on the VHS’s. Ummm. Okay that looks like it would be uncomfortable for her. This one has way too many guys with mustaches. Hey. This one is a sequel. That must mean the first four should have been pretty good!”

Needless to say, Cupcake Crammers V was not what I thought it would be. And needless to say, my friends have speculated on my sexuality ever since.

Long story short…too late, I know. Here is part five in my never ending series of quarter life gear grindings…

People
Like cats, they just piss me off.

Double Pitts to Chesty…
All those dude deodorants created by Maxim magazine and Spike television. False advertising. No chick, no where ever got off on a guy’s hairy pit odor. And if I have to obey the QL man-grooming of said pits and chest, I expect results.

Local News
Local on the 1’s. Weather on the 8’s. Fire and brimstone at a neighborhood apartment complex on the 5’s. Crap! What would they report for not the standard playground incident, murder in the 5th ward, local sports crap I already got off the web? The weather. Yep, the weather is the only thing they could air. That is why it is last in the broadcast. Cuz…your grandfather cannot work the Web.

¼ Lifers
Man, we are a whiny entitled bunch aren’t we?

Remotes
We grew up with them. We looked through many a couch searching for them. Hell, I got grounded for dropping the cable remote into a full glass of milk. Later on in college I dropped one into an Igloo of Sex on the Beach punch. And just recently I spilled a Red Bull on my nieces’ Wii controllers. Cannot we ¼ lifers in 2010 develop something to solve this problem? Why not turn our cell phones into remotes? And even if we lose them we can call ourselves and feel the vibration mode go off in the futon cushions? Billy Gates…Steve Jobs…your move?

The Fly on any Men’s Underwear
Why? Like I am going to go digging between awkward folds of cloth to grab my meat and two veg. Every dude, just pulls down the elastic and takes care of business. The Quarter Lifer’s in Europe don’t have to put up with this in their undergarments. American QL’s should demand more of their Fruits of the Loom.

Nickels and Dimes
I like pennies and quarters. Seriously? What can you buy for five and dime? Pennies give you good luck. A couple of quarters buys ya a bean burrito, a parking space or a toll. And as a QL, I never have cash anyways. And that is also why my debit and charge cards need to be replaced every six months from swiping.

Mother Nature
Make up your mind you crazy bitch. Winter from Hell. Earthquakes. Rhode Island became an actual island. Icelandic volcanoes. Yes! I know the generations before me pillaged ya. But, we are better in Gen Y.

DVR, TIVO & HULU
I spend way too much time in front of the tube. QL’s have better things to do with their lives.

Best Buy
We in the Millenials+ have had this as the mainstay of all electronics shopping. One stop shop. That blue and eye burning yellow. I hate that place. Those uber nerds working for their commissions. It’s like I am the good looking chick at a bar being hit on by the last call for alcohol leftover dudes. Now I know what feels like when doves cry.

Sum up? Yep, I am taking a re-gander at what I have put up here. Lots of talk about sex, money and toys. Some things do not change no matter what generation you are in.
　

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