Chevy runs deep- to reveal this family's emotional scars

Imagine being this guy's son. Dad's "Chevy was his baby, he loved it..." sure, people talk like that about their cars (or at least they did, when cars might have been worth treasuring.) But calling a car your "baby" that you "love"- that's just a figure of speech. Of course, a guy with a wife and family doesn't really "love" his car. He loves his wife, his children, and the life they have together.

Right?

Well, maybe not. This particular dad's love for his Chevy was so deep, so all-consuming, that when his kids became adults, they launched a five-year search for the very car he once had to part with (we aren't told why. Or maybe we are, and I just wasn't paying attention. I'm not paid to do this, you know.)

And when Never Quite Good Enough To Take The Place of a Fucking Car children finally locate Dad's God Damn Chevy Which Was Always More Important Than Our Baseball Games and deliver it to the aging patriarch, well...Dad's reaction is everything they could have hoped for. The guy actually breaks down. He's crying. He's holding his heart, like his fondest wish has been fulfilled. Deborah saying "I love you too" and "yes, I'll marry you?" That was ok. Birth of first child? Meh. Grandchildren? Whatever.

But present dad with his old Chevy- and the old guy crumbles into a teary, visibly moved and shaken bowl of jello. THIS is what occupied his every free moment until that horrible moment of parting, so many years back. And THIS is what is going to be filling what had once been a huge cavity in his heart from now on. Dad takes a few moments to tell his kids how much he's missed the Love of his Life, before heading off for a drive.

The sad, pathetic efforts of his children to earn a modicum of Dad's love has reached a new level here. In another scenario, they bitterly hunt down that Piece of Shit Chevy Dad Would Never Let Us Come Near Let Alone Drive, buy it, and have it crushed into a cube, earning a pat on the head from the family therapist. In another scenario, these kids would trace their lack of self-esteem and their inability to hold a relationship together to their emotionally absent dad and his Freaking Precious Why Don't You Just Marry It Already You Know You Love It More than You Ever Loved Mom car, and finally have it out with the stunted old idiot at the Christmas table when they simply can't deal with another telling of the How My Life Fell Apart The Day I Had To Sell That Car saga dad pulls out of his ass every holiday. Either one would make a better commercial than this weird pile of crud.

Meet John

Hey, check out John. John dresses like a slob and doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands when the camera is trained on him. John moves in weird, jerky motions which suggest he has some kind of muscular disorder which has probably turned off- or frightened- several First Dates, which despite showing promise always seem to turn out to be Last Dates.

After years of fruitless, frustrating One-Nighters (and those are the SUCCESSFUL dates,) John's got a pretty good idea of what he is looking for in a girl- someone who will tolerate whatever it is he does that prevents him from establishing relationships with the women he meets in the normal, Non Online-dating world. Because the route people who aren't sad, isolated losers take- meeting through mutual friends, by joining clubs etc.--- for some reason, this just isn't working for John. What John really needs is another pathetic, desperate, Out of Ideas But Not Money dope who has also been rejected by the population of Normals. John would probably look pretty good- or at least passable- to someone who is one step away from writing guys in prison.

Speaking of desperate- hey, here's Jennifer. Jennifer is going to help John "go deeper."

No, I'm not going there. I know kids who read this blog.

Speaking of Zombies, look what else is back from the dead!

One of my very first posts on this blog- in January, 2009- pointed an accusatory finger at the scam artists of Tronix Country, who preyed on people with credit so poor that they couldn't even get Aaron's to rent them a laptop with a 500% markup. All you needed was a job and an active checking account, and this wonderful philanthropic "you deserve a second chance" company would set you up with that laptop- AND a printer, AND a flat screen tv, AND a digital camera "with your paid order." In other words, you got all that cool extra stuff if and when you finished getting soaked on the $600 laptop you'd ultimately pay $2000 for, in "easy" installments of $29.99 a week.

Well, I thought Tronix Country had gone the way of Blue Hippo (same deal, currently out of business, under investigation by various Attorneys General,) but it turns out I was very wrong. This commercial appeared during Wolfgang Mac's Chiller Drive in Theater (which I only watch on those RARE occasions when I don't have a date Saturday night, so no snide remarks please.) The message has been tweaked slightly- now you are told to pay for the flat screen tv, and the LAPTOP is the "free gift." But other than this slight adjustment, it's the same old scam.

I love the way the guy tells us that he "didn't know what he was missing" before he got his awesome high-definition tv from Tronix Country. Well, I imagine you are still missing a lot of stuff, buddy. Like anything resembling decent credit. Or a bank willing to give you a loan for anything larger than a Big Gulp. Or a clue when it comes to finances. But you enjoy your life-enhancing flat screen tv- at least, until the cable company shuts you down for non-payment of your monthly bill.

Except, this jackass is probably a regular customer at CashStop too, handing over his car title for a few hundred bucks to "tide him over" (pay the cable bill, plus the rental on the X box Aaron's DID agree to let him walk out the door with.) Yeah, this guy really needs a flat screen tv. Much more than he needed that $120 per month. Because the landlady's kind of a bitch anyway, right? Not to mention that Ramen noodles are still really cheap and veggies are way overrated.

I can tell you this much- I don't want to hear any whining from the people "victimized" by these bloodsucking predators. There's been more than enough information out there telling anyone willing to pay attention exposing these frauds as lying, manipulative slimeballs interested in nothing other than getting access to the bank accounts of people just struggling to get by. At some point, you just have to let fools say goodbye to their money in the way they see fit, and serve as an object lesson to the next generation of suckers. The only thing I have to say to the pigeons who call the convenient toll-free number and happily read off their checking account numbers to the operator over at Tronix Country is: Serves You Right, Morons.

I thought that every day was HogFest at Cici's?

Gee, I wonder what insurance that pig is carrying?

And now, I'm wondering if Cici's has insurance against trademark infringement.

And NOW, I'm wondering how Cici's pulls off pretending that there's something "special" and "different" going on at their "restaurant" this month just because they are adding a pizza with ham to their usual menu of cardboard-based pies slathered with pepperoni, chicken, mushrooms and grade-B mozzarella gathering bacteria under heat lamps. Oh, and let's never forget the limp, browning lettuce, lukewarm macaroni (excuse me, "pasta") and all the Pillsbury-quality cinnamon buns you can shovel into your cake hole, all for a low low price which screams "TASTELESS, FATTY CRUD" to anyone with half a brain but sounds like a "BARGAIN" to the flabby trailer trash who find places like this inviting.

"Hey look honey, them people at Cici's got that pig from the Geico commercials you like so much to tell us they gots a ham pizza this month. Gather up the kids and break the cookie jar, we's a goin' out tonight!"

I just hope that the good people at Cici's spread the "special" pizza around a bit- there's nothing uglier than a mob of sweaty, triple-chinned hicks attempting to Line Jump before the last damp slice is snatched up. Because I'm sure that they hate answering the "when's the next ham pizza comin' out" question even more than they hate reminding every other customer that no, damn it, it's Golden Corral that has that cool chocolate waterfall thingee.

Well, at least AT&T's Walking Dead don't look like they'd be interested in acquiring our BRAINS

Hey look, with AT&T's 4G service, being a technology-obsessed zombie isn't just for the office or the tailgate party anymore!

Now you can stare at your stupid phones/televisions/best friends as you walk your dog, or pretend to be spending quality time with your spouse. Now you can use that "vital" connectivity to keep watching the game while getting some fresh air. Now you can completely humiliate your kid by getting him to say "hi" to those two cute girls he hasn't quite gathered up the courage to talk to yet. Ah, the wonders and blessings of modern technology.

(Oh, and and a little more about that particularly obnoxious three seconds of this ad: The kid says "mom....put me down." Of course, Mom isn't actually carrying him, just a phone which happens to have video capability (why anyone would want this, I have NO idea.) But the kid says "put ME down." As if that's actually his soul in that phone. Depressingly believable.)

Anyway, this is just another of what appears to be an endless parade of Phone Addicts One-Upping Each Other With Their Superior Security Blankets advertisements AT&T seems determined to shovel at us until we are all assimilated into the Borg and would never, ever think of going anywhere or doing anything that did not also involve staring at our hand-held idiot boxes. Fortunately for those of us who are more inspired to bang our heads against walls than to actually buy one of these Slightly Cheaper than Heroin society killers, the saturation point seems close at hand. I know that when I take my daily walks and try to count the number of people who are either blathering away into their phones or staring mindlessly at the little glowing screens, I have to give up after about five minutes (too depressing.) More than once I've been the only person on the train platform who isn't yapping, texting or playing some brain-sucking game. Everyone is so much more "connected" than I am already, at least we'll be moving on to 5G now, right? At which point, 4G will become so lame and So Fourteen Seconds ago, right?

Sooner or later, one of these sad choads is going to look up and notice that I haven't bought in. That person will point at me, open his mouth, and release some weird screech to alert the others to my apostasy.

Non-Partisan Stupidity from Carbonite

What can Ed Schultz and Rush Limbaugh, Rachel Maddow and Glenn Beck, Thom Hartmann and Sean Hannity all agree on? I mean, besides the "need" to invest at least part of our investment portfolios in gold, "the only asset isn't somebody else's liability?"

Well, this is actually a pretty easy answer: It's that we must all back up our files using Carbonite. Because our whole lives are on our laptops.

In case you didn't buy the idea that your bookmarks, recipes, and--well, actually, for 99.9 percent of us, that's just about it- were absolutely irreplaceable, here's an utterly obnoxious, sadly topical commercial from Carbonite. A beautiful young woman is preparing for The Most Important Day of Her Life when a wizened old woman, representing the Specter of Death, tells her that she's "about to lose everything." In another room, the anxious groom obsesses with his receding hairline and is told by a male version of the vulture freaking out his bride that he, too, is "about to lose everything."

It all sounds very creepy, very ominous, especially with the eerie background music (which the YouTube losers have instantly fallen in love with and OMIGOD MUST IDENTIFY AND POSSESS RIGHT NOW LOL.) Oddly, despite the dire warnings of impending disaster, Bride and Groom go on with the ceremony, only to have it interrupted by a slovenly, stupid dick who bursts into the church roaring "you're going to lose your files!"

Oh, horrors. The new couple, having silly, non-file related stuff like Weddings and Planning for a Life Together on their minds, have totally forgotten the importance of backing up their Suddenly More Important Than Anything Ever stored information "off-site" (perhaps In The Cloud? Have I mentioned lately how much I hate this century?)

Thankfully, we aren't shown their reaction- I have this sick feeling that they would have broken off the nuptials to call Carbonite and get signed up at the Low Low Rate of $55 per year. Because you can get married any time. Do you realize how hard it is to get bookmarks back?

"You're going to lose Everything." "Everything" just isn't as all-encompassing as it used to be, is it? Except that crap like this seems perfectly acceptable to "liberal" and "conservative" yakkers alike, it's kind of hard to see the point.

I guess it's a good thing I don't work for "Five Star"

First, let me say that I feel really bad making fun of John Walsh, but....sir? You've made quite a career out of channeling your rage for the better part of a quarter-century now. Television shows, commercial opportunities...maybe it's time for you to pocket your cash and seek some therapy? I know it doesn't pay as well as peddling fear and paranoia, but...

Well, I just thought I would throw that in.

On to this "service" you are selling us today. I'm pretty sure that I'm not the type of person you'd hire to be one of your operators. I don't think I have the proper bedside manner. This is how I see it unfolding:

Lost Kid: "I can't find my mom."

Me: "What, were you busy playing with your stupid phone instead of paying attention when she told you to keep up with her? BTW, why don't you have a phone? Don't you watch commercials? Why are you such a loser?"

Lost Kid: "I don't know where she is."

Me: "Oh, and I do? Jeeeeshhh...I was just about to go on my break. Look, if she wants to find YOU, she will. My guess is, she isn't trying. I'm sure it was fun to have a mom for a while. Why don't you move on now?" Click.

Alleged Grown-Up who Fears Being in a Strange Neighborhood: "Can you stay with me until I get to my car?"

Me: "Is that a joke? What, are there scary non-white people around? What the hell is the matter with you? Why are you wasting my time- don't you know I've got some stupid lost kid on the other line?"

AGUWFBIASN: "But I can't find my car..."

Me: "Gee, guess you don't have an 'App' for that, huh? See, this is called 'trained helplessness.' You've got this 'service,' and it's turned you into a quivering, scared idiot the moment you face a situation which is at all unfamiliar. I'm going to hang up on you now and leave you to find your car on your own. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

Old Guy: "I don't feel well."

Me: "Well, welcome the real world, dope. You sound like you are around eighty, and you are off hiking by yourself, and you don't feel well? Hey, I'm in my forties, do you think I feel well? Who am I supposed to call and bitch at?"

Old Guy: "I may be suffering a heart attack."

Me: "Oh, here comes the Guilt Trip. You 'may' be having a heart attack, so now the burden is on ME to do something about it? WHY are you out by yourself anyway? Don't you have any kids or grand kids you could be sharing this outdoor experience with?"

Old Guy: "I'm not sure I want to call 9/11..."

Me: "No, of course not. It's just their JOB to deal with calls like you. You don't want to be a burden to the emergency squad. You don't want to be a burden to your family. You just want to be a burden to a total freaking stranger on the phone. BTW, are you aware that I've got a stupid lost kid and a scared alleged grown-up hanging on the line? Could you just make a decision, Mr. Great Outdoors Oh No I Don't Need A Companion To Hike With? Do you need help or not?"

I wonder how we ever got to 2012, considering that this type of technology has only been with us for the past few years. It's looking less and less likely that we are going to see 2112, however. At least, not in our current form; the way we are going, by then we'll all be walking around with chips embedded into our skulls which allow us to consult a disembodied voice every few seconds about that Scary Little Twinge in our necks or that Unfamiliar Person at the bus stop. Thank God, I'll be dead by then.