But I was so much older then; I'm younger than that now

Boy, was I stupid when I was a kid. I used to jump off of bridges into unfamiliar rivers, just because I saw some local kids doing it. I used to ride my bike down dirt roads and attempt jumps, and never ever wore a helmet. I used to ride my Honda 70 in circles through high fields of grass without a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, etc.

Sometimes me and my friends would sneak into the Drive-In during a movie and scrounge for soda and beer cans for the five cent deposit. When we went to the theater, we'd always smuggle candy in. When I was sixteen I rolled my grandfather's Volkswagen because I was driving too fast.

I'm so glad those days are over, and now I'm a boring, old, gone-to-seed, obsessed-with-my-heart-health adult who gets his thrills staring at sunsets and riding my bike 2.5 MPH (while equipped with a helmet and knee and ankle pads, of course.) Nowadays I let my students take the risks- like the time I talked that girl into climbing on Jefferson's Rock at Harper's Ferry, strictly against park rules but the only way to get a really good view. I'm sure she deeply regrets taking that risk- or will later, when she's a boring old adult like me.

Yep, thank G-d that those days of taking stupid risks are over. Nothing but skinless chicken, fat-free yogurt, and driving 40 MPH in the center lane for me, from now on. And since life without risks is So Worth Living, I'm going to trust my heart to Lipitor.

Because when every day is risk-free and predictable, you want the days to keep coming. Right?

It's the end of the world as we know it

I was on the Red Line yesterday, finishing up a very nice day spent walking into Washington DC from the Maryland suburbs and then visiting the museum of American Art and the American History Museum. Because it was a day ending in the letter "y," the trains were running painfully slowly, sharing tracks, etc. etc. ETC.

So after almost 15 minutes of waiting on a cold platform, the train shows up. It's crowded, but I've seen worse. I get aboard and I find a place to stand (I never sit on the train, ever. Maybe it's a phobia. Maybe it's because I think I'll fall asleep and miss my stop. Maybe I just like to burn calories when I can.)

A guy standing five feet from me is listening to an I-Pod, using those stupid earbuds which I think were created to make it easier for the people around you to detect your taste in music, and to enjoy it (or not) along with you. He might as well have been using no headphones at all. I walked to the other end of the car to get away from the "music," and instead spent the rest of the 12-minute ride listening to a 13-year old kid carry on a conversation with someone on his cell phone and trying to stuff the term "motherfucker" into each sentence as many times as possible. (Children are our future, but there are some glaringly obvious exceptions to the rule.)

Where am I going with all this? Oh yeah- this commercial. Please tell me what kind of OBNOXIOUS, SELFISH ASSHAT needs a phone with SURROUND SOUND?? Hey AT&T- despite your best efforts, some of us are STILL TRYING TO LIVE IN A SOCIETY HERE!!! I know that in all these "connectivity" commercials, headphones are a no-no, as you and your ilk attempt to create a world in which wall-to-wall noise is the norm (along with the complete banishing of the concept of privacy and personal space) but a CELL PHONE WITH SURROUND SOUND??

Why do you hate us so much, AT&T? Is this about that government-ordered breakup forty years ago? Because believe me, if it were possible, there are some of us who would gladly go back in time and warn the government to keep it's hands off of Ma Bell. After all, back in the evil days of the Phone Monopoly, all we had to deal with was huge, heavy, clunky, ugly phones and overpriced, poor service. These pale in comparison to the evils inflicted upon us by the Pandora's Box of Competition- video cameras, internet connectivity, and the creation of a generation of brain-dead half-wits who simply cannot function without their electronic best friends. But at least until now, the dwindling number of us people who are Just Trying To Have a Society Here could just shake our heads and ignore these dim bulbs (at least, when they weren't cutting us off in traffic or carrying on conversations everywhere and anywhere, "Ruling the Air," as it were.)

It's only a matter of time now before we have people and their competing Personal Stereo Systems blasting us out of trains, libraries, bookstores, parks, theaters, etc thanks to this amazing new breakthrough in Surround Sound Technology. Thanks a lot, AT&T, for making me nostalgic for the days of Annoying Ring Tones.

PS- you're going to burn in hell for this, you know. Hope the memory of having lots of money during that eyeblink you were on Earth makes the eternity of pain and suffering worth it.

An Open Letter to the Miller Brewing Company

I know you want to sell beer. I know that you beer companies ran out of fresh ideas on HOW to sell bear roughly thirty years ago. And I know that times are tough, and no doubt your CEOs have passed down the word that actual "writers" are not to be hired when creating scripts for your ads.

And yes, I realize that these ads don't include beer-crazed lunatics who live in houses made entirely of full cans. I realize that they don't involve guys bungee-jumping to steal beer, assholes asking questions of long-retired NFL coaches, or guys disdaining sex in favor of appreciating beer cases with "windows" and color-changing cans.

But still- the Hot Bartender with Zero Social Skills bit has gotten really, really old. First, bartenders simply don't ask questions like "do you want a beer that tastes great or like shit?" Second, last time I checked, bartenders didn't pimp one brand exclusively while angrily dismissing all others. Third, I don't care HOW hot the bartender is- these people work almost exclusively on tips, and it's kind of hard to get tips from people you've openly mocked for the hideous crime of not knowing what brand of light beer they want.

I mean, come on. It's one thing for the bartender to helpfully suggest a Miller Lite when the customer doesn't have a clue. It's another thing ENTIRELY for the bartender to openly question the customer's manhood, style of dress, or relationship with his mother. Yes, I am sure that there are a lot of people out there who think these bartenders are being funny. Those people are called morons, and they have my contempt, and they richly deserve it. (And if they think this situation would be funny in real life, they are used to being the object of contempt.)

So please, enough. What these bartenders are doing to their customers is stupid, and demeaning, and insulting to my intelligence (not insulting to the intelligence of YouTube bottom-feeders, because it's hard to insult what simply isn't there.) I want to see more Bartender Makes Customer Look Stupid Because He Answered Question Incorrectly ads about as much as I want to see a return of Punch Dub Days.

But all is forgiven if this horrid ad campaign raps up with a Superbowl Commercial featuring an insulted customer who snaps and torches the bar, leaving the offending bartender to go back to her old job pole-dancing. That might even be worth an LOL on YouTube's comment thread.

Come on, Miller. I dare you. Man Up!!

(BTW, please note that for the hil-ARIOUS punchline to be set up, the guy in the "skinny jeans" has to ask "is the score still 30-32?" Nobody talks like that- unless, of course, he's required to to set up a stupid closing "joke." Another fail, Miller Lite.)

It's a long fall from electing Presidents to chastizing annonymous viewers, isn't it?

Full disclosure: I am not a Mason. Technically, as a baptized Roman Catholic, I'm not supposed to join a lodge or participate in any of its functions. In fact, I have friends who are Masons, my ex-brother in law is a Mason, and I attended a "get to know us" dinner at the local lodge last year. I have absolutely nothing negative to say about Freemasons; every single one I've met has impressed me as being a fine, upstanding human being.

Full disclosure, part II: I've always been kind of interested in the political arm of Freemasonry. My Master's Thesis, which sucked two years away from my life some twenty years ago (it was researched without the help of the as-yet-uninvented internet, and typed on a computer with a very limited word processing program) was entitled The Anti-Masonic Party in Massachusetts, 1826-1835. Yes, it was a real page-turner, thanks for asking.

All this being said, this commercial inspires in me more sadness than anything else. I mean, isn't this the organization which once elected Presidents, appointed judges, manipulated the world currencies and carried out the occasional assassination? How do you go from giving Queen Elizabeth, Czar Nicholas II and Kaiser Wilhelm their marching orders to hiring a bad Ben Franklin impersonator to beg for recruits? Come on- aren't these the same guys who embedded the Secrets of the Universe in Benjamin Bannaker's blueprint for Washington, DC (you don't think that the Washington Monument is 555 ft high by ACCIDENT, do you?) So what the heck?

Back to the ad- I wish this guy had just been out front with what is obviously the subliminal message- "are you man enough to help us regain control of the planet, manipulating everything from the price of gas to the winner of the next American Idol competition along the way?" Because if he had-- Catholic Church or no Catholic Church, sign me up!!

On second thought, don't sign me up- based on that episode of The Simpsons back in the 90s, I think I'd rather join the Stonecutters. Maybe they don't control the UN or the Federal Reserve, but they've done a great job keeping the Metric System down and the martians under wraps.

The sound of empty calories (except, not really)

1. From a distance of 100 yards, you know what is being sold out of this vending machine. What an eyesore. At least when you are surrounded by Kit Kats while on the Chocolate Ride at Hersheypark, you are distracted by the singing cows.

2. Are Kit Kats popular, or are they just the only thing the employees of this company can buy without going off-site? I mean, there are no other candies in the whole freaking machine. I guess if you need a quick empty calorie sugar fix, Kit Kats are ok. And I guess that in this building, they are going to have to be.

3. Kit Kats don't make this much noise. In fact, when you break them or bite into them, they make almost no noise at all. Eating popcorn is louder. Kit Kats are slightly noisier than Snickers bars. Why would being noisy be a selling point anyway? This reminds me of the old Pringles commercials, where we saw people jugging the empty cans- what does this have to do with the quality of the chocolate, people??

4. If Kit Kats WERE this noisy, they'd probably be banned in the workplace. After all, how can I listen to fantasy football updates on my cell phone over this kind of racket?

5. Kit Kats don't taste all that good. Like most mass-manufactured chocolates, the texture is chalky, and the wafers are bland and rather flavorless. Which might explain why one guy seems intent on jamming the stuff down his pie hole as quickly as possible.

5. Has anyone over the age of six ever made the choice of a candy bar based on a commercial?

What is it about this commercial that would encourage anyone to buy a Kit Kat Bar? There are no boxes of Kit Kats on moving belts, no chocolate-churning machines, no narration concerning the Amazing Cocoa Bean. Not even a singing cow.

Not even ONE.

A Commercial which has almost everything

Let's see-

Women presented as exclusively sexual objects- check. The "aliens" who declare their intention to "treplicate" (really?) with "the males of your species" are of course stunningly gorgeous young actresses who I hope are at least mildly ashamed at their willingness to take this gig (hey, you got to eat, and rent's got to be paid. I really do understand.)

Men presented as slack-jawed, unshaven slobs who are so beer-obsessed that they aren't sold on the whole "treplicating" idea until Bud Lite is added to the offer- check. Let me make an additional point here- why isn't the offer of "treplicating" enough? I mean, I would have been on the ship before any mention of alcohol is made. Has sex fallen so far down on the priorities scale- way below playing with a cool cell phone, for example- that the bribe of LIGHT BEER was needed to seal the deal?

Cliche'd catchphrase that Budweiser dearly hopes goes viral and is permanently engraved in the American Consciousness as being connected to Bud Lite ("Here We Go!)- Check.

Confused punchline which steps all over the storyline- CHECK. After the guys are whisked away for an eternal orgy of sex and beer (not in that order, apparently) the women cheer "the guys are gone!" and start their own party- with their own beer, which I guess was hidden away for fear that the Scruffy Males would guzzle it down without their help. But hold on- is the message here that the women can't have fun with beer if men are around? That they are incapable of drinking all the beer they want unless the Males are not aware or in a position to stop them? I mean, what the hell? Last time I checked, adult women in the United States could drink whatever they want, whenever they want to drink it. Are there really men out there actively trying to prevent women from having a good time?

Isn't there something missing here? The men are off with sexy female aliens, the women are left with- each other. And beer. Why not sexy male aliens? Would their presence strip the women of their moral high ground, or what? Seriously, help me out here.

So what IS missing from this ad? It's so obvious, I don't blame you if you missed it. This commercial is missing a product worth purchasing. I mean, come on- Lite Beer? Who gets this excited over LITE BEER?

Then again, these are guys who are not all that interested in treplicating, and women who aren't all that concerned that their boyfriends/husbands/fathers of their children have been whisked off in a space ship to have alien sex and drink bad beer. So maybe it's just me.

It seems to me that this guy's life is permanently on Pause.

I'd like to point out that as this idiot's attempts at watching "Iron Man 2" are constantly being interrupted by travel demands, he never ONCE is shown using a headset. Which means he's just like every other self-absorbed dickwad appearing in Fios commercials- he's watching a movie, and he doesn't care if anyone around him is trying to read a book, or sleep, or (God forbid) just think about something without being harassed by his electronic addiction..

I'd also like to point out that I've SEEN Iron Man 2 (coincidentally enough, I watched it on Amtrak a few weeks ago, on my laptop. I used a headset. Because I'm not an inconsiderate jackass. In fact, I'm so NOT an inconsiderate jackass that when I wanted to make a phone call to let my family know how my painfully slow trip was progressing, I waited until I could step out on to the platform, where I could speak without bothering anyone except the crowd of smokers standing out there with me- and who gives a shit about them?)

Where was I? Oh yes, I've SEEN Iron Man 2, and while inferior in pretty much every way to the original, I must defend it here by saying that IT ISN'T EIGHT HOURS LONG!! Seriously, what is WITH this guy- he's watching it at home, then he's watching it in the terminal, then he's watching it on the plane- either he has severe ADD and can only watch for a few minutes at a time without nervously moving on to the next non-activity, or he's watching it again and again during his journey. Either way, this guy has issues. As I said, it's simply not a very good movie. Certainly not one that demonstrates how ESSENTIAL it is to purchase a service which allows you to carry it around with you.

I'll cut this guy two breaks. At least he isn't the "Take the NFL with you" choad, who apparently can't function if he isn't staring at a screen on which someone is bleating something about fantasy teams (I'll risk being flamed right here- people who are into Fantasy Football to the extent that this guy is are just one step up the food chain from basement-dwelling "gamers." Seriously, grow up, losers.) That dangerously detached moron seems perfectly happy strolling through life gazing witlessly at monitors of varying sizes while insisting that everyone in his immediate vicinity listen in on his stupid obsession.

And at least he isn't the "yay Cloud" woman in the airport who convinces her husband to play "Celebrity Probation" on his laptop. Iron Man 2 isn't that good, but "Celebrity Probation?"

All breaks are revoked if it turns out that the reason why it's taking this guy eight hours and three time zones to watch a 90-minute film is because he keeps pausing to check on the status of his Fantasy Football Team, or is just dividing his time between Iron Man 2 and Celebrity Probation.