Atlas HuggedMay 27, 2005
Everything I Know About You I Learned From Your Car
In case you haven't been on the highways and by-ways of North America in the last three and a half years, you might be the one lone soul left untouched by the magnetic ribbon phenomenon. In the event that you are that sad loner, perhaps I should briefly explain. It's a ribbon, see, and it's magnetic...are you with me so far? I imagine these were originally made by loving hands in cottages (i.e. the cottage industry...for those of you who have always wondered what this meant), but have now become so incredibly popular that they're probably mass produced in airport hangers, graphically designed by oompa loompas, and sold by the gross...like bottle rockets. If this is all seeming a bit deja vu, you're right...it happened ten years ago and we called it WWJD.
Anyway, these ribbons come in every color and endorse every generic theme possible. There's a "Support our Troops" ribbon, a "God Bless the USA" ribbon, and a "These Colors Don't Run" ribbon, but these magnets aren't limited to unabashed nationalism. You've got your various cancers represented, a smattering of military-specific organizations acknowledged, a call for organ donation, a reminder to not forget our POW's and MIA's, and even one that simply says "Support Peace," although I've never seen one on a car (at least not in the South). The proverbial Pandora's Box has been thrown wide open and everyone who's anyone is sporting a magnetic ribbon (or two) that will allow you (in the car following a bit too closely) a brief glimpse at what it is that makes them tick.
And maybe that's my biggest problem with these magnets. It seems that we, in the United States of Exploitation, have opted for an easy way out when it comes to the causes we support. Really, we're busy people, and in reality it's much easier to slap a magnet on the back of the SUV than actually do something about bringing the troops home, or raising money for cancer research, or bettering the country (or community?) we live in. Maybe these ribbons are just a way to make us feel better about ourselves, to make us feel better about our friends or the people around us in traffic. "Honey, did you see the Johnson's put a 'God Bless America' ribbon on the back of their Hummer? I told you they were our kind of people." We've reduced our morality to a piece of brightly colored plastic, while our understanding of what being a change agent means is stuck against the bumper.
I remember standing 'round / in a vacant corner of some playground / hoping we would get you back / dying to make contact, contact, contact...with America
Posted by micah at 5:14 PM | TrackBack
May 26, 2005
cubetob sanspants
have you ever found yourself subjected
cruelly to disciplinary action around the office? well, up
until today i could have answered that question with an emphatic
no! (is there really any other kind?) but then this morning -
after arriving at work one full hour before the office opens
- i received an ominous voice message from those hr types
telling me that we needed to have a little meeting to discuss
a few small performance related items and of course i
immediately panicked because i thought that everyone knew my worst
kept secret - that i in fact, wear a hair piece - and this is not just
any hair piece...its my own special design - a design i like to refer
to as my performance enhancing rug not only because it helps
me out with the ladies - but also it has to be nurtured by various &
sundry steroids or it just ends up looking all loose and limp - and
anyone who knows me knows that i like my hair like i like my
body...rockin'
and as you may suspect, in my line of work random steroid testing is
pretty normal procedure - so i figured i must have finally been busted
due to my own carelessness or because when my anonymous homeless urine
donor confessed that he'd been turned on to the juice he
wasn't just referring to the juice newton box set i had given him as a
thank you gift for all the clean samples...so of course i've got my
story all prepared as i head into the hr interrogation room -
and really i sort of feel bad for those people because they're alot
like those poor bastards who work in internal affairs on
those police procedural dramas that i hear the kids go nuts for -
those guys never catch a break...
anyway, hr wasn't interested in my steroid use or lack
thereof - they wanted to address some complaints that had been filed
by my fellow co-workers (anonymously of course) directly relating to
what was referred to as my excessive need to call attention
to myself out on the floor which, i don't really get - and
then they showed gratuitous surveillance footage of me slamming down
my phone leaping into the aisle giving an emphatic (and totally rad)
first down signal - which is something i like to do after i've
resolved a job task - and it's not meant to show any one up - it's not
meant to call attention to myself - it's merely a symbol that i'm on
to the next big thing. and apparently all these anonymous coworkers
feel threatened by my drive and ambition - and these are probably the
people that settle for field goals in life...and i'm sorry but that's
just not me...but since i've chosen to work alongside a bunch of
nancies' (no one in the office is actually named nancy) i
have been asked to tone it down and keep my celebrations
within my cube....so being the passive aggressive type i have proudly
re-displayed all of my awards atop my credenza and whenever anyone
walks by i stop whatever i happen to be doing - leap onto my desk drop
my pants (in one seemless motion mind you) point to my cubetop
festooned with trophys and whisper scoreboard! only i
don't whisper it if you know what i mean.
Posted by young_christopher at 12:35 PM | TrackBack
Not For the Season(ing Salt)
The month of May is almost over, the seasons are changing once again, and in the land of the free (checking) and the home of the (Atlanta) brave(s), this can only mean one thing...slip'n slide. Well okay, maybe three things. To avoid any unitentional confusion I'll use a seemingly complex but admittedly simple numbering system:
1) The slip'n slide
2) Barbecued ribs
3) Embarrassing family mishaps
The slip'n slide is obvious. Anytime you combine warmer weather, a long weekend and a twelve pack of your favorite domestic longnecks, you better be prepared to hurl your body onto a yellow strip of plastic that's been lubricated with dish detergent and hose water. Secondly, don't be surprised if the ground below said plastic contains protruding roots, rocks the size of your knee caps, rusty nails or cacti. My suggestion is to find a strip of grass that's not infested with fire ants or littered with dog feces...set up shop right there, it will make the whole experience slightly less awkward. Not to skip ahead to number three too quickly, but often times the embarrassing family mishaps occur right here. How many times does Grandma's bikini top have to wind up around her waist, or Uncle Ken's swim trunks catch on his ankles, before these people (these family members) realize that they are making the decision for future generations not to reproduce all the easier.
The barbecue might be the only saving grace for the end of May. I'm not necessarily the biggest proponent of ribs...it's very laborious (to me they're akin to the chicken wing - quick sidenote, who thought calling them buffalo wings was a good idea?), and for what...some fatty meat that has been rubbed, rolled, dunked and dashed with seasoning salt and something called Dale's Sauce (thank you Dale for being so self-absorbed). Before you rib fanatics start lobbing charcoal briquettes in my direction let me confess that I have eaten some delicious ribs before. Perfectly seasoned, meat falls right off the bone, tender juicy ribs...but those, I'm afraid, are the exception rather than the (ja)rule. I had a roommate in college once who loved McRib sandwiches, something I could never understand or stomach (he also wore a Mossimo hat, if that tells you anything about his judgement). However, bring on the barbecued chicken breasts, the plates of pulled pork, and beef brisket by the bowlful...that's what I most enjoy, just make sure you wait at least an hour before getting on that slip'n slide.
Candy left over from halloween / the unified theory of everything / love left over from lover's leaving / books we all know they're not worth reading / it's not for the season
Posted by micah at 6:45 AM | TrackBack
May 25, 2005
hair-up hotties
i'd like to expand if i may on this
recent discussion of cigarette smoking around the office
- because i'll confess sometimes i think it would be nice to
be a habitual smoker if for no other reason than to break up the
monotony of what is sometimes known as the workday - i'd say well over
half of the people on our floor are smokers & i'm not really sure what
our corporate handbook says about smoke breaks or the regulation
thereof but seriously - there are people who take a minimum of ten
smoke breaks a day - i walk down the aisle to retrieve a fax and find
myself faced with so many empty desks that i worry that the rapture
must have come and i was left behind - which is really just crazy -
because we all know that there won't be smokers in heaven - and also,
our office has low rapture-proof ceilings...and these
smokers, they may be hellbound but boy are they down right savvy - i
kid you not, i mean the way they bookend their lunch hour
with smokebreaks...that kills a good two hours of the workday
right there - and of course there is the unscheduled smokebreak
whereby they slam down a telephone or the sheaf of papers they have
been shuffling back and forth across their desk and exclaim judas
priest! i need a cigarette! and head for the elevator...even
though they just returned from a smokebreak five minutes hence.
and i know what they say about the health risks and probably most of
it is true but seriously are you killing yourself any less slowly by
spending the better part of the day staring at the bland fabric walls
of your cube hoping to holy heaven for a power outage or a fire alarm?
i'm just saying...and also if i smoked i could be standing right now
around the ashtray with my most recent dearly departed crush who
appears to be one of those cigarette for the road kind of
gals - and to see her standing there with her hair up and her arms
akimbo laughing and chatting with all the other nico-teens almost
makes me wish i hadn't cast any sidelong glances her way thus ending
my last best chance at finding love in post 9/11 amerika - and you
know part of me wonders if she isn't just one of those hair-up
hotties and stop me if you've never wondered the same thing -
because some girls with their hair up...hotties! (hence the name
hair up hotties) but you see them with their hair down
and...it just doesn't work...but boy hair-up hottie or no,
now that i think about it sharing a cig might have been a better way
for us to meet rather than throwing myself in front of her speeding
vehicle - which in hindsights smells a little bit like an act of
desperation, but what can you do - like the great prophet don henley
once sang sometimes love just aint enough and its true - even
patty smyth thought so as she sang the plaintive harmonies - and when
the woman who sang the warrior tells you its time to just
give up on love and/or personal grooming - well...enough said
and now, in the midst of picking up the broken pieces of my broken
heart (important to note here that during the initial cleanup of the
pieces my broken heart i failed to stretch properly, got a cramp in my
hamstring, and promptly dropped the detritus thus rendering my heart
even more shattered and irrepairable than it was in the first place) i
also have to pack a bag for the warmer climes of home - which should
be an exciting adventure fraught with peril and airline peanuts - and
boy am i looking forward to some sun on my face and some soft sea
breeze brushing lightly against my skin - as my taught thighs ripple
ominously down the boardwalk even as i try to mask the fact that i am
not a tourist in my own hometown - even though i really sort of
am...not that i'm complaining it's an excuse to get that bikini wax
i've been pining for.
Posted by young_christopher at 5:34 PM | TrackBack
Parliament is Now in Session
Sometimes I wish I was still a smoker. I ate lunch outside today (if Baked Lays, a blueberry muffin and a Gatorade is considered lunch). It's a nice day, a little breezy, but still very nice. There were a lot of smokers outside...some stand by themselves or in little groups, others sit at the glass top tables blowing contented clouds of nicotine and tobacco in my direction. I remember those days, trouble free days for the most part, when the only worry was losing your lighter or realizing that the OAR song you'd just downloaded off Napster wasn't the one you wanted. When I see people smoking now, especially outside this twenty story hive full of worker bees, I almost automatically assume their lives must be fairly trouble free. I mean, if you've got time to stop your work day, ride the elevator down to the lobby and stand around outside leisurely smoking a cigarette...or two...or three ("one more for the road?" "sure! why not..."), then I can't imagine anything too pressing is going on in your life.
But maybe it's the opposite. When I smoked I would have argued that smoke breaks (especially those in between classes) were the only moments of sanity in my day. I'd get out of Statistics with ten minutes until Political Science, my brain would be shot to hell, but the moment the filter hit my lips and the flame shot up out of my plastic Bic, I was good to go. PolySci was ninety minutes long, which means half way through I'd have to excuse myself for a cigarette or two on the balcony deck of Jacobs Hall...just to get through to the next break. Everything in my life was pushing, pressing and pulling me...I had to smoke just to keep going.
My life is much more complicated than it was in college, but somehow I get through each day without a smoke. I guess it's just a choice (I'd rather decrease my chances of getting lung cancer...I'd rather be able to run without wheezing and hacking), but sometimes it would be nice to push away from my desk, take the elevator down to the lobby, and stand around outside with a Parliament in my right hand like I've got all the time in the world.
I could spend three dollars / and sity-three cents / on diet coca-cola / and unlit cigarettes
Posted by micah at 3:54 PM | TrackBack
May 24, 2005
it's friday i'm in love
call me hopelessly cynical, but when
tom & katie announce their lovefest just in time for the press tours
for their respective summer films - there is a part of me
that rolls my eyes. because there's no way in this world that tom
& katie are actually an item - maverick & joey? really? maybe in
some alternate universe where dr. pheel is a changer of lives and
shaun william scott is considered to be a fine comic actor this might
be possible - but i'm here to tell you kids, this is not the world
that i live in. in my world i live in fear that joey will ruin the
next batman film with that smooshed up face of hers - and
there's no way she knows the words to santa fe
of course my rambling discontent could be directly attributed to the
death of my most recent crush - not literally of course - i should
probably clarify that for those of you that are rushing to dial 911
(which by the way, is a joke in your town) even though i fear it may
be too late as my surveillance cameras are informing me that my
trailer is now surrounded by the fuzz. which, by the way also
happens to be the name of the dance club where i met my first
wife casiopia & you might thing that it was her peternatural
toplessness that caused our love to go awry, but in the end it was her
poor spelling and diction, i mean seriously, casiopia? - anyway, have
you ever had a mad crush on someone for no apparent reason and then
all of the sudden it just vanishes? that sucks. i'm here to tell you.
i officially killed my crush on friday - and that's a shame because i
really think i did love her - which happend to be casual friday, but
that is neither here nor there since our office does not have
casual friday...anyway, i had arrived at the office earlier
than usual on friday and had headed up to the dreaded fourth floor
when i suddenly realized that i had left my chequebook in the
sexplorer and this would simply not do because i had to write
out a check for the chicken tenders that i have been dreaming
about ever since the girl scout cookies went the way of the dodo -
anyway, as i stepped out into the parking garage i saw her
drive by - in fact i was contemplating jumping in front of her
speeding vehicle thinking this might be a great way for the two of us
to finally meet because they say that dramatic meetings are always
more memorable - and also, if i were laying there moaning plantively
or something there would no doubt be some sort of physical contact of
some kind that would ensue which is never a bad thing and maybe if she
held my hand as i lay there internally bleeding we could have some of
the forbidden hand sex that you hear adults talk about after
all of the love has gone completely out of their lives - sadly, i
thought of this after she had already past me by so after making a
mental note of it i headed over to the sexplorer to retrieve
my chequebook - long story short, we ended up standing side by side on
a crowded elevator and i totally could have touched her or given her a
wet willie - which in my experience has always been a better than
average way to break the ice. and also - it's hard to mack on someone
when they are standing directly beside you, because all you can really
do is cast a sidelong glance which is what i did - which is what ended
up killing the crush because i suddenly realized that - at
least in my peripheral vision, she reminded me of someone back in
college that i really didn't care for very much - and also, her casual
day outfit? not so great - which was disappointing to say the least
because she showed so much promise - and really, how can you love
someone with your whole heart when you know full well that if you
happen to catch a glimpse of them out of the corner of your eye it's
all over....i'm often told that i am too demanding, but for the life
of me i just can't see it.
Posted by young_christopher at 3:19 PM | TrackBack