Royale With Cheese

Well the week is winding down and tomorrow is the autumnal equinox, also known as the official end of summer. I can definately feel a crispness in the air as falltime (see previous post) marches in. Makes me think of palying in the leaves, football, and Halloween. I figured before the weekend comes I would put a quick post up just in case you were staring at the clock on Friday afternoon and waiting for 5 o'clock.

I'm sure you have fond memories of going to McDonald's as a kid and knocking off a 20 piece McNuggets like it was nothing. I sure do. Long gone are those days. I also remember being amazed that the marquee outside of the McDonald's had the number of hamburgers sold. Who was counting these? Was there one guy who had this job? For years the one near my house would count up until eventually it simply read "billions and billions served." Did the hamburger counter guy get fired or did he die? This kind of made me sad because as a little, dorky engineer-to-be, I wanted to know the exact number. To this day, those McDonald's marquees either read "billions and billions served" or "over 99 billion served." A true travesty.

Anyway, you would think in this day and age, with all the technology available, that McDonald's could install an electronic marquee with a real-time counter on it. This wouldn't be too hard. It would just get the number from the central McComputer (although McPuter is way cuter sounding) and post it on the screen. This would make me happy and I'm sure it would make those millions of fat, overweight, super sized Americans happy too.

So have a good weekend, it's the first of autumntime! (see previous post)

The Blind Leading The Blind

Time to get old school on you folks. I noticed recently that my posts have been more rants than deep thoughts about life. It's just difficult when the world around us is filled with so many idiots. Luckily, you have someone like me to assemble all of these stories into one neat package. So here we go.

As far as I know, the Cheifet family has never been big on giving to charity but my Mom always gave to the Guide Dog Foundation for the Blind and I always thought they were worthy of my inheritance. Just seems to me that this non-profit has a clear goal in sight (no pun intended). Say you give money to the Red Cross. It goes into some huge account where it is probably spread out so thin that your money all goes to free orange juice, free doughnuts, or those little "I Gave Blood Today" stickers they give out. Not exactly what you had in mind when you wrote that check.

The Guide Dog Foundation for the Blind on the other hand has a simple mission. Right from their website: Since 1946, the Guide Dog Foundation for the Blind has provided guide dogs free of charge to blind people who seek enhanced mobility and independence. What could be more simple than that? They get money and they spend it on training the dogs. And who doesn't love puppies?

As usual, I was driving to the gym yesterday and saw a blind person on the sidewalk with their guide dog. I noticed one thing that stood out to me: the person had a plastic bag in their hand. So of course this got me thinking. Do blind people have to pick up after their guide dog? Is there a subsection of the law that looks the other way on this? Assuming they do have to pick up after their guide dog, how do they know where "it" is? If anyone knows a blind person with a guide dog, could you please ask them? This is something that I am very curious about.

America The Stupid, Part Deux

I don't know what has gotten into me but I am just full of opinions this week. Must be that my mind is fully refreshed from vacation. Just like Frank Costanza's fictional holiday of Festivus, it's time for the airing of grievances. That's right America, I have a few problems with the way you operate...mainly how stupid you are. This blog post is the result of three separate emails/occurances in the last few days.

The first email was from my cousin, who I have inspired to start his own blog (see link below). He responded to my 9/11 rant by saying that us Cheifet's are often seen as insensitive but the bottom line is that we say it how it is. That's right, we are a bunch of straight-shooters, no bullshit. The second email was from my mom who was wondering why I didn't do a 1-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina post. As you might have guessed, I have an opinion on this one too. Allow me to explain.

As we all know, the Gulf Coast got slammed by a Category 5 hurricane last year. It was truly a tragedy. Thousands of people lost their homes and other invaluable possessions during the hurricane and subsequent flooding. Therein lies my grievance with the whole thing. It seems that everyone (including the media) forgot that these people in New Orleans lived below sea level!!! Hello, what do you expect to happen when you live below sea level? Did these people not think there was a chance that flooding might happen sooner or later? I almost want to say, "I told you so."

This goes back to my definition of "heroes" from the other day. When you knowingly accept risk and those percentages play out, no one is at fault other than you and luck. Sure, it's terrible that these people died or lost everything they had. I mean, these people in California who build their houses on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Every year there are mudslides and someone's home goes tumbling down the side of a mountain yet they continue to build there just for the view. Do I feel bad for them losing their homes? Yes. Do I feel bad for them for being stupid and building their house where they know it's probably going to get destroyed? Not at all.

The third encounter happened at the gym on Monday. For some reason my gym gives out free pizza on the first Monday of each month. People + Gym = Healthy. People + Pizza = Not Healthy. Gym + Not Healthy People = More Money. I thought this idea was pretty bad until I got on the stationary bike and the guy sitting next to me was pedaling and eating pizza at the same time!!! How do you expect to lose weight if you are eating pizza while exercising? Only in America.

So in conclusion. If you do something stupid and wonder why you got fucked in the end, then there is only one person you can blame: yourself. Or the media.

Only 364 Days To Go

First of all, congratulations to all of you who correctly identified yesterday's book quote. Your extra credit points are in the mail.

So 364 Days until what you may ask? The 6th Anniversary of September 11th of course. I said in yesterday's post that I would refrain from telling you how I really feel about Septmeber 11th, so as not to offend any of you, the readers. But a comment left by one of my readers inspired me to rethink my postition on this matter. Not how I feel but how I didn't want to offend anyone. The comment made me come to two conclusions. First, more people than I thought agree with me but are probably too scared to speak up for fear of offending someone. Second, to quote my Mom's favorite songstress Lesley Gore, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to. That's right. It's my blog and I will write what I want. If you don't like it, then get your own blog. Remember, this is America!!! I can write what I want and you, the reader, can write back whatever praise or criticism you want.

Speaking of which, if you are going to leave a comment, please sign your name in some way. "Anonymous" doesn't really help me. And this way I can thank you personally and know where to send your extra credit points.

Anyway, I would like to leave you with my little rant on September 11th that resulted from the aforementioned comment. Please feel free to form your own opinion on the subject because remember, "It ain't us, it's the media." (Extra credit for identifying that quote too)

My feeling is that the media has blown the whole thing way out of proportion and just uses it for ratings and money.

I mean, yeah, it makes me really sad and mad to think of what happened that day. In Hawaii on Pearl Harbor Day they lay some flowers like you would with any death and that's it. For instance, I went with my Dad in December '01 to visit ground zero and there were hundreds of street vendors selling 9/11 merchandise. Sure, that's real sensitive. I'm sure it all went to the victim's families.

Also, I was watching tv last night and came across a show on the flight that crashed PA. They were going through every person on there and giving a background of them. It made me sick. I mean, yes we know people died and obviously each one had a story but we shouldn't have to re-live the death every year. It's like having a gut-wrenching funeral every year for 3,000 people. You don't have a funeral for [dead] family members every year. Maybe light a candle, take some flowers to the cemetery, say a prayer.

I also think the term "heroes" has been used way too liberally. Now you are probably already thinking that I am some insensitive guy with no heart. I have tons of respect for the fire and police and military. I just don't think they are "heroes" for dying doing something they signed up for knowing the risks. They are certainly great individuals who deserved to be honored for risking their lives serving the people. A "hero" to me is someone who goes above and beyond what they are expected to do. If say a civilian tried to rescue people from a burning building, then that is a hero to me. A fireman knows he could die in a building during a rescue and accepts that risk. The guys who took out the terrorists on the PA plane so they couldn't crash it into the White House, they are heroes.

That's just my opinion and you are welcome to disagree with it. If you still want to talk to me after my little rant, feel free to respond.

So in the words of probably the worst Weekend Update host ever, "That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Have a great 1 day Anniversary of the 5 year Anniversary of September 11th!

And So It Goes

First and foremost, I would like to announce that I have updated my profile to say 20 countries. That's a big milestone. I think...

Second, I will refrain from making any references to 9/11 or the heroes today. Most of you know my feelings on that whole thing. And with all of my new readers from so many backgrounds and with so many different political views I don't want to make any politically incorrect or insensitive remarks. For that please go to my favorite politically incorrect and insensitive website: www.tshirthell.com.

Ok, enough of that, let's move on. That's right folks. It's time to inject a little culture into the blog posts. Extra credit for anyone who knows what book the title of this blog post is from. I'll give you a hint, it was over 100 pages.

So I am back from Central America. Tan, relaxed, and full of funny blog posts to make your daily grind at work more bareable. What a crazy time it was. And to think, I didn't have any major surgery in a country where I didn't speak the native language. Although, the taxi driver said my Spanish was much better than his English. So take that Leric. This trip also made me a little sad and brought back a very strong feeling of nostalgia for Hawaii. It's been a while since I have been able to wear the same pair of board shorts and the same pair of Locals flip flops everyday. It's also been a while since I could wear no shirt into a restaurant for dinner. But hey, at least the leaves are changing soon. I guess. Anyway...

If you have ever seen the movie Medicine Man with Sean Connery (I doubt you have), then you are familiar with the canopy adventures popular in the rain forests of Central and South America. Let me tell you that it was awesome and I didn't even have to talk with a funny Welsh accent; although, I did have the hairy chest going for me. Other outdoor activities included horseback riding, surfing, hiking, and rappelling down a waterfall (see above).

So you're probably thinking, what does "and so it goes" have anything to do with Costa Rica and everyone's favorite blog protagonist? Read the book and you will know. So, in spite of travelling to another country some 2,300 miles away, I was not able to escape being hit on by a man. That's right! Local surf bum Justin, in between trying to peddle some crappy "native" art, proceeded to tell me that I must be a an American football player because of my big muscles. A little creepy to say the least, especially since it was in broken English and he said hello each morning as I walked by to go to the beach. Oh well, I guess I just need to learn to accept that I am desireable to 100% of the population and not just 50% like everyone else. And so it goes...