The Denizens of McMenamin’s
I couldn’t resist it tonight. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and cabin fever has set in again. Had to get out of the house, and so drove myself “down to pub”. In my case, the “local” is McMenamin’s East Vancouver.
A brief rundown of the patrons in attendance this evening may be entertaining… let’s see.
There is some woman off to my right who has a giggle not unlike that of Black Adder’s temporary bride, Tally Applebottom. Say, barkeep! I’ll have what she’s having. And here – please hold my car keys.
Oh, just outside the window is a young buck in surfer shorts and black T-shirt, listening intently to another fellow in his 30’s. Young buck was reading the bible a little earlier, before his mentor (?) arrived and greeted him with a manly, back-pounding hug. Will he be saved? Or will he wise up and understand that religion is bunk, before he spends a lot of time and effort trying to find a god that isn’t there?
At the near end of the bar is a young couple, he in white T-shirt, she with a tattoo on her arm. Tats are enormously popular here in Vantucky. Damned if I know why. I can’t quite make out the design, here in the gloom of the swag lamp-illuminated interior. It may be a floral motif, or a flaming skull. Either is equally probable here in the cosmopolitan Pacific Northwest. (Yes, there is a Starbucks less than 100 feet away from my table. Imagine that.)
Young buck update – he’s looking increasingly contemplative, as his mentor becomes more animated. Mentor is speaking and gesturing with great earnestness and conviction, and young buck is nodding thoughtfully, holding his chin.
And tattoo girl is reviewing today’s crossword, as her companion ponders a different section of the daily news rag.
(Young buck’s food has arrived… keep a healthy skepticism, and defend your mind, that’s my advice. That and – check out the brunette behind you, dude. Nice.)
The table just to my right has now collected about seven 20-somethings, out for an evening’s food and drink. The discussion at the moment centers around lousy autobody repair (too much bondo) and the relative merits of light vs dark beers. Personally, I am far happier with a stout than I am with a pilsner or lager. And a woman at a table behind me was telling a rather cringe-inducing story about a motorcycle accident. I think I heard the words “face”and “gravel”. Ow. Kinda makes me glad my bum’s too big to go bicycling any more. I really don’t miss road rash.
No Lamborghinis tonight, sorry to say. But a sweet little Porshe Targa in pearlescent white just left the parking lot. Lambo dude was in a week or two ago. My friend Mark says he knows him. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Maybe Lambo Dude will be in tomorrow night.
I probably won’t be, though.
The 8 Words That Can Save Your Marriage, Ladies
Yes, this is blatantly ripped off from the Tom Leykis show. Why? Because it’s completely valid, and I have a few words of my own to add, thank you very much.
What are Tom’s eight words?
- Stay thin
- Long hair
- Sex anytime
- Shut up
And I would add 5 more words – “Don’t Spend All His Money“.
So what’s the deal, anyhow? Here’s the deal. Women in our modern, Western world seem to have developed (Tom’s phrase) a “sense of entitlement“. (And to a certain degree, men have as well, but that’s a subject for later. This is about the 51% of the population that has no Y chromosome.)
Women have been told that they can “have it all”. And in my opinion, they have taken that concept far too literally, to mean the bank account, the house, the cars, the 401k… Money (and fighting about money) is a huge issue in marriage and divorce. Why? In my experience (and that of several of my divorced male friends) it’s because women seem to feel they can spend stupid amounts of money on all kinds of rubbish.
Such as? Oh, how about $90 worth of hair scrunchies at one shot? Or $150 for a haircut? Perhaps huge long distance phone bills, yakking about gods-know-what with out-of-state friends and relatives? Don’t give me that look. These are all real world examples, from my personal experience.
And I’m not alone. Search Google for “my wife spends too much“. Today, I got over 800,000 hits on that phrase.
So, girls, if you want to save your marriage, lay off the charge card. (Do you really need those slutty-looking French manicure acrylic nails?) Realize that every time you swipe that hunk of plastic through the reader, it increases the pressure on your man to produce.
He’s got enough on his plate, babe, especially now that it costs more than $100 to refuel that damn SUV you talked him into buying, not to mention that it also costs an absurd amount to clothe and feed those kids you talked him into fathering. (Did you know he would have preferred to keep that sporty car he had when you met him? You told him you thought it was ‘sexy’. Oh, and odds are, he would have been just as happy without kids.) And since the rugrats are always underfoot, he’s not getting laid any more, and with you lopping your hair off and dressing like his mom, he’s even less interested in sex with you anyway.
Oh, and give him a little peace & quiet, would you? He really doesn’t need to hear all about your day with the other soccer moms, in mind-numbing detail, and he doesn’t give a rip about the conversation you had with your mom about your sister’s latest boyfriend. He’s got to concern himself with keeping his job, in the face of global competition and downsizing. If you don’t shut the hell up, and let him think, he’ll lose that job that’s paying your bills. Then where will you be? In divorce court, because you drove him to shag his secretary?
Get a grip, women. Stop talking for a moment, and look, and listen. Ask some important questions about yourself, about him, and about your relationship. About your place in the world. And ask yourself if your expectations are reasonable in today’s world of rising energy prices, melting ice caps, and a 50% plus divorce rate.
Remember those wedding vows, sugar? Seems to me the general idea was to make each other happy, helping each other realize their fondest dreams, and not so much about taking out the trash, or filling the kitchen with stainless steel appliances. Maybe it’s time to refocus…
Maybe ask yourself how you can make your situation better by rethinking the situation, instead of stubbornly sticking to your position. Maybe even get dad and the kids involved in the discussion. You may get a huge, wonderful surprise out of having that kind of conversation.
I remember that my family had some very useful discussions when I was a kid. We made some family decisions, after group discussions, that led to real improvements in our lives together. We found ways to cut expenses during the first Arab Oil Embargo, we explored our values, agreed certain things were crap, and we wouldn’t be involved with them, we began recycling… we pulled together.
Or go ahead.
Stick to your guns.
Be a b*tch, and pull it all apart.
Your choice.
Enjoy.
More wireless fun
It’s been a busy few weeks since my last post. The sound quit working on my Linux-powered laptop, so I figured it would be a good opportunity to try Ubuntu 8.04 in place of Mint. Well, to quote an Alka-Seltzer ad from my youth, “So I tried it. Didn’t like it.”
Went ahead and downloaded the latest version of Linux Mint and plonked it back on the hard drive. Happy days! Back to where we were, with sound and all. Not sure what happened to the noises. Perhaps it got tangled up when I installed Skype. Ah, well. I’m back to running Mint, a familiar distro, and I’m a happy litle geek, but still a Linux newbie.
It took some time to get the wireless card (D-Link G650) working again, too. Not sure what I was doing wrong, but somehow, through multiple makes, it’s working too!
So, I betook myself to the local pub, one McMenamin’s in East Vancouver (WA, not the one in BC). I had a very tasty Reuben, and actually got some work done, too. Amazing. I’m gonna have to do more of this mobile thing. The off-duty baristas from the Starbuck’s across the parking lot made the place a little noisy for a while, but they went off to karaoke or something, apparently.
It’s closing time, dear reader. Back home and to bed for me.
We All In Trouble... | Dlock's Pop Culture Reflux 