Just a Few More Feet

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Sitting in my favorite barfateria, I watched two women palmer-gait from the order station to their seats. The way they walked, I expected to look down and find that both of them had some type of horrendous foot disease or injury, but a close inspection revealed the only problem they had was one of two thing, feet to big for their sandals and sandals to small for their feet.

Every year when it gets warm my eyes are subjected to a podiatrist’s nightmare as women of all sizes and shapes insist on jamming their crusty ass feet into a pair of sandals that if they could, would shout for police protection from the egregious assault of perfectly good shoe leather. What is the deal? Every year I see more ugly feet than Dr. Scholl at a foot stomping contest.

Have you ever walked up behind a woman wearing sandals and noticed that they have as much foot sticking over the sandal as is in it? In the front their nails are scraping pavement and in the back an inch of crusty heel is shredding the hard wood floor into toothpicks. Some have more crust than a loaf of French bread. I’ve seen the same women at the nail shop. When the nail technician comes out to give them a pedicure they are wearing goggles and wielding a Dremel. Sadly, none are the same, so, there is no cure-all. Some are swelled up like hot air balloons making their favorite flip-flops look like the string wrapping on real salami.

Others look like round baloney on square sandwich bread as meat is overflowing on all sides and doing an effective job of wiping the floor. More than once, all I’ve seen nothing but straps as the sandal is completely hidden by a big foot in a shoe that is at least two sizes too small. Some are skinny, some are wide and many of them are unmanicured and dirty. I don’t even need to be looking to know they are approaching as the sound of the flap-flap, slap-bap coming down the hall alerts me to their approach.

Women, please get you some damn sandals that fit your feet and pick up your feet when you walk or the next shooting rampage will take place where you get your nails DID.

Shut Her Down

Carting a camel through the eye of a needle is exceedingly difficult, but it can be done. Moving a McDonald's milkshake is even more difficult without ending with brain-freeze, but it can be accomplished also. Moving the Rock of Gibrater through a tube less than half that size is a near physical immpossibiliy, but it can be done with hours blood-curdling screams, more promises than a politician and withstanding a full-speed, head-on collision with NFL All-Pro Linebacker, Ray Lewis. 

I started the week with root-canal on one of my lower front teeth. I've had a root-canal before and it was no big deal. Once the root nerve disappears, the pain is gone--I thought. An abscessed tooth sent me for my first procedure. The dentist told me she needed to perform a root-canal. At the time, I thought,, "I'll let this heifer use dynamite if necessary." The pain instantly disappeared. About five years later the same thing happened with identical results.

The camel and the Rock of Gibraltar still awaited, I went home still numb and polished-off a Whataburger double-meat and double-cheeseburger. That's when it all changed. Suddenly, my tooth started throbbing like Isaac Hayes' in "I'm Going to get you Sucker." They say one way to get rid of pain is to have more in other place.

I didn't plan it, but sure enough, I developed another pain that quickly made me forget about my tooth. A white-hot ache shot from lower my lower back making me see Captain Kirk and the Enterprise sparkle and after being hit by a photon torpedo. Having a fool for a doctor, I immediately determined the pain came from the back surgery in 2010.

I laid on the hard floor seeking relief. Peace finally arrived about two in the morning. With my back hurting, I woke up to go the toilet not suspecting it was the final count down. As I did my duty, I noticed that things weren't flowing well. In the next thirty-seconds I managed to tear down the towel rack, wake my wife and send the local dogs into a  howling fit.

I felt the pain subside and decided I had to see what caused much pain. I looked through the cloudy water and there it sat, a rock so big it could make Kim Kardashian envious. I would like to say that was it but another of less generous proportions awaited.

Enough punishment I thought until I came down with the shakes from 103 degree temperature. I got my antibiotic and a gallon of cranberry juice. I'm cured! The Cowboys play the Giants tomorrow night. That means there will be no improvement in my demeanor. Meanwhile, I'm under Nurse Ratchitt's care for the duration. Too add insult to injury, my doc said layoff the Vitamin-Water because it is saturated with minerals (vitamins)!

Kidneys Stoned

Fine Tooth Comb Needed in Candidate Selection

When it looks like the cat hacked a hairball on your head, it is more than difficult to take seriously anything you might say. Add to that an ineffective Eastwood squint along with Frank Burns lips that make it look like the same cat pissed in your coffee, and it becomes impossible to get focused. Anyone vain enough to hide beneath an ungodly mass of stringy blond hair rather than become bald, tells the world, "It's all about me."

Donald Trump is really in the public relations business after stumbling through as many bankruptcies and divorces that no one seems to remember and probably shouldn't, but when you stick what little lips you have into politics it's deja vu all over again. Unlike most politicians, Trump's faux pas painted the front pages of the nation's newspapers and magazines as well as the six o'clock news. He's now joined the "birther" conspiracy populists as a presidential candidate. He wants to be the boss of me and you.

Now that he has thrown his hair-dresser into the ring it is official. Still, that this guy is is running for anything other than a bus, reveals the egotism that comes from reading your own press clippings. The sad thing about it, is the number of Americans stupid enough to think he has something to offer asides from a lousy hairdo and an inflated opinion of himself.

Even now, Trump's, convenient slide into politics has a distinct bovine odor that says watch your pocketbook. Trump has more financial skeletons in his closet than a haunted house,which should blink like neon--Warning! Don't expect him to be around that long because because he will not let the financial problems and marital issues be dragged through the public restroom--again.

In some ways, a known evil is better than the unknown except when the 'known' reveal themselves with blinding stupidity and swaggering incompetence. Then, anything coming from the mouth of a comb-over candidate, if not laughable is inane, immaterial and incompetent.

Nevertheless, through clever self-promotion and shrewd marketing, Donald Trump managed to make lemonade from the lemons of bad decisions and poor planning. Jumping in with the Tea Party crowd might be good for business, but like fish, political positions begin to stink in a short time as do their promoters.

Don

Barry Tell Them to Kiss Your . . .!

Millions upon millions of dollar now wind their merry way through the drains of San Francisco signifying that folks officially lost their minds, but they got the notorious Barry Bonds. The all-time homerun king now stands convicted of obstruction of justice. After years of trying, millions of dollars and more coverage than a presidential campaign Bonds is now a felon. If the United States really wanted to catch Osama Bin Laden as much as they wanted Bonds, he would be in custody now. Let’s drop the charades and call this exactly what it is—a vendetta against Barry Bonds because he had the temerity to tell the sports writers of America to “go to hell.” He should be applauded rather than convicted.

In my mind my, this is purely a racial issue. The last time I checked, San Francisco slugger Barry Bonds never tested positive for steroid use. Never! Yet, the press and American public have pronounced him guilty anyway. Saying he will taint the homerun record Hank record broke that white America never wanted him to break.

Yes, the steroid evidence came from respected sources in the industry, but the report of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq also came from impeccable sources including the President of the United States. Yet, nearly a decade later, the weapons of mass destruction still can’t be found. Perhaps, that’s because they were never there.

The thought on Bond’s record is split along racial lines because this is a clear racial issue. Bonds has never tested positive for steroids. It doesn’t make any difference what writers suspect, believe, guess, predict, imagine or anything else—Barry Bonds had not tested positive for steroids PERIOD. Black American sees it as a clear vendetta by the white dominated press to deny Barry his rightful dues.

Although Barry Bonds is no Muhammad Ali, Muhammad Ali wasn’t even Muhammad Ali when he refused to go into the service. The white press hated him as did a large portion of the United States, but now he is the beloved Muhammad Ali. Ali’s crime, unlike Bond’s crime, was rubbing white folk’s face in his overwhelming talent by telling them about it. Barry’s is the opposite. He doesn’t have to talk with reporters and if I was him I wouldn’t either. They seem to write whatever they feel about him regardless of the facts. Again, the fact is Bonds has never tested positive for steroids, a fact that must irk those members of the press in the Bonds lynch mob.

One of the great tenets of the United State's legal system is all defendants are considered innocent until proven guilty. The stampede to the hanging tree in Bond's case gives cause for concern. Aside from "he said, she said" information, the evidence is circumstantial and highly questionable. Whether it's worthwhile news, is debatable. Nevertheless, it's news.

Like life, MLB isn't the pristine pastoral game shoved down American throats by Wall Street marketeers and politicians, except for the apple pie, which by the way can be quite tasty. The late Steve Howe pitched for 12 years in the majors despite arrests for cocaine possession and testing positive for the cocaine seven times. Evidently, as long as Howe could throw a 90 mph fastball, teams forgot about his drug issues. Maybe we should forfeit his wins and have the teams affected play those games again.

Dock Ellis pitched a no-hitter, one of baseball's highest symbols of excellence, while high on LSD. Mickey Mantle was a drunk and Ty Cobb was a racist. Yet, they are in baseball's hall of fame. On the other hand, Pete Rose, one of baseball's greatest hitters was banished from the game for gambling which seems like cutting off your nose to spite your face.

There have been gamblers, thieves, racists like John Rocker, wife beaters, drug users, alcoholics, corked bats, grease balls, spit balls, emery balls and liars like Raphael Palmeiro who went before Congress and denied steroid use only to be caught two months later with dirty piss. Who cares? If you're a gambler, you do. If you're a fan, you do unless the suspect plays for the home team.

I've only mentioned the most obvious examples, but there are more—plenty more. By now, my point should be clear. Casting the first stone from a dirty glass house is dangerous. Until someone finds the "smoking needle" with Barry Bonds, it's all hearsay.

I've liked Barry Bonds since he started playing, but not because of his obvious skills. I liked him from the beginning for telling the media "it's none of their business." Because of his proclivity for ignoring the press, he's been a target from the moment he hit the bigs.

In a way, I hope the MLB takes away Bond's records. It would make Barry bigger than ever. He would become a man persecuted by the "powers that be" who went so far as to start a smear campaign just because they didn't like him.

Of course, since he's never tested positive for steroids, the lawsuits payoffs would be gigantic. So, let's throw out the records first and then watch the money fly. That’s the American way. We can ask questions later—play ball!

November 8, 2006 Number 27

Bull Kaka!

Bullshit is rampant in the United States. Nothing is untainted. It's called marketing. We used to call it propaganda and spin-doctoring. No matter what perfume is sprayed on the practice, it’s still bullshit! Bullshit is a lie with just enough grease on it to make it slippery and hard to grasp. I would call it obfuscation, but that’s too grand a word for common bull.

Nine out of ten doctors recommend EasyFart for patients suffering from gas, the ad goes. Even the Hubble telescope can’t see the fine print on the screen that says, “9 out of 10 doctors in Beavercrotch, Alaska,” recommend EasyFart for patients suffering from gas. How about those “runaway” television hits that are canceled midway through the season? It’s called selective editing. The quote taken from the Ticklebush Times actually said, “ . . . the story line in the new reality show, Turds of the Rich and Famous, is a runaway train wreck looking for a place to happen.”

In sports, the marketing mavens call it hyperbole, but don’t believe the hype. It's really bullshit slathered with ballpark mustard. Even the nightly news is supect. Bullshit is why television news is classified as entertainment. That’s right, entertainment! Check it yourself.

This taste for male bovine feces fills vocabularies with euphemisms developed specifically to mislead. For instance, three times in my life I’ve been “laid-off” from work. I now find that only once did that happen to me.

Once, I was “down-sized” and the next time I was “right-sized.” “Downsized” sounds like I got trapped in the ‘Honey, I Shrunk the Kids,” movie. The same goes for being “right-sized.” I always thought, I’d look nice at 6’ 3”, but apparently that wasn’t the size they had in mind for me. I never did find out what size they wanted me.

During the Vietnam Conflict soldiers weren’t officially listed as wounded in combat. The diagnosis was “injured as a result of hostile activity.” No bull! I call getting shot in the ass extremely hostile. In fact, I’d probably call it combat, but the United States wasn’t at war during that time. The US presence in Vietnam was officially known as a “police action.” I thought a "police action" is what happened to Rodney King.

Even our doctors get in on the bull. How many times has a doctor told you that “You are going to feel some mild discomfort,” when he should have said, “This is going to hurt like hell.” I was going to take this to its logical conclusion in Washington, D.C., but no sense in beating a dead bull.

Black Terrorist Meeting

I went to the First Annual Black Suicide Bombers meeting in Miami this week. I was shocked to get the invitation, but I was even more surprised to know that such an organization existed. Being a journalist, I packed my bag and headed to Florida. When I got there I discovered the whole thing was a hoax. What really pissed me off is that I should have known better. Black men don’t become suicide bombers, it’s too fatal. That’s why the drive-by was invented. I also knew 47 virgins in heaven would never be enough to recruit any serious candidates, two or three good hoes--maybe. My friend Nate said he wouldn't do it for any less than 100 and he wanted eight delivered immediately.

Franchise Closes Last Store

Henry’s Hot Ham Sandwiches closed its 6th and final store in Israel Tuesday after recording losses of more than a half million dollars. The troubled franchise stumbled from the start, but made a brief comeback when owner/financier Weldon Goodfoot introduced “cracklin’ cornbread and navy beans.” The soulful dish almost saved the franchise until the local residents found out where cracklin' comes from.

Close Shaves

Everyday in the American workplace, there is someone who doesn’t know they are just an arm’s length from a good ass-whipping. I am not a great appreciator of behind the back communication and have a habit of going directly to the people implementing secondary networking without my knowledge. I grew up during racially tense times and confrontation came as natural as walking, and it carried over into everyday living. If I have an issue with you or something that you’re doing, I have no problem bringing my concern to your attention. Similarly, I am used to people coming to me when they take exception to something I do or say.

I don’t even mind gathering several people to make sure everyone is informed and hear everything each other has to say. Some people label me “confrontational” and see it as a bad trait. Instead, I prefer to think of it as “truth seeking behavior,” and when seeking the truth it is always best to go to the source or sources to make sure the facts are straight. Otherwise, someone might be inches away from a knockout without being aware of it.

Katrina, Katrina

Wasn’t that a song in the late 70’s? I just bring it up because I was talking to a Katrina victim last week about being displaced. I talked with the man almost an hour before I went home feeling lighter for having assisted someone. Imagine my surprise when I undressed that evening and found that I felt lighter because someone stole my drawers. In my neighborhood, crime has jumped through the roof since Katrina came to visit and now the visitors won’t leave.

Slap-O-Gram

This summer, I will be opening offices across the United States some time in the summer of 2007. I plan to open Slap-O-Gram offices in Los Angeles, New York, Dallas, Chicago and Philadelphia. The premise behind establishing these offices is that some people need to be slapped silly for the stupid things they do and say, like the time Marion Barry, got caught smoking crack. He should have received a Slap-O-Gram.

A courier in the bright red Slap-O-Gram uniform should have showed up at his cell the next day and delivered the message. When Marion stepped to the bars, the courier would have leaned back to Mississippi and slapped the shit out of him for being so stupid. So, far my test cases in Dallas have not been able to keep up with the demand. So, be looking for a Slap-O-Gram office near you. Remember, when someone absolutely, positively needs the shit slapped out of them, call Slap-O-Gram.

Where Do You Want Me to Put It?

One of my favorite songs by a group called Solo may now be an anthem for drug side-effects. One side-effect of taking erectile dysfunction drugs like Levitra, Viagra or Cialis might be blindness! The condition, described as a "stroke of the eye," can cause vision loss in one or both eyes. It is caused by insufficient blood flow to the optic nerve head, damaging the nerve and leading to permanent vision loss. It confirms that blood flow to the brain is interrupted during erections. On the hand, it could be fun. Think about it as the adult version of “Pin the Tail on the Donkey.”

Effective E-mail Handling

The following is a public service opinion. Have you ever sent out an e-mail seeking some important information or a signature for an important contract and didn’t receive it with out making multiple telephone calls? In the corporate world, it happens all the time because many decision makers avoid their e-mail because they take time to read.

E-Mail Management

A manager’s or director’s e-mail can easily exceed 100 a day. E-mail not acted upon within 36 hours is history and reflects poor management skills. To avoid this, manage your e-mail; don’t let it manage you. For e-mail to be effective, handle it in a timely, accurate and consistent method.

Managers receiving high volume e-mail don’t have time for rambling extended prose or "guess what I found surfing the Internet" pieces. If possible, answer every e-mail within 24 hours. The hardest part of managing e-mail is making the commitment to do it. How others view you as a manager or employee may conform to your e-mail habits.

Employees will categorize you as non-responsive, undependable, lazy, unorganized and even incompetent if they constantly wait for meaningful and timely responses from you. On the other hand, those who respond in a timely and accurate businesslike manner, employees see as competent, helpful and valuable.

How do you know if you are falling behind on your e-mail? If your e-mail inbox contains unopened e-mail after 24 hours, you are an offender. If you have e-mail requiring action and you have not acted upon them in a timely fashion, you are an offender. As an employee or manager, until you finish the paperwork the job is incomplete.

Here are a few simple tips for taming your e-mail. First, e-mail that falls into another person’s expertise--forward it to the correct person. Do not attempt to handle it yourself or you could make the problem worse. Categorize your e-mail as it arrives or when you open it. Just like planning your day, there are A, B and C priority e-mails. “A” priority e-mails demand an immediate response. “B” e-mails usually requires a response or action within a 24-hour period “C” category e-mails, tend to be informational and require no action other than filing. Usually, “A” and “B” category e-mails demand some type of action.

Failure to respond to A and B category e-mails in a timely and accurate fashion reflects poorly upon the manager’s organizational skills and ability to handle more than one task at a time. In addition, these are “gotcha” e-mails that will come back to haunt you if you missed a contract signing date, an employee’s company anniversary or a meeting you needed to attend.

Also, be aware that e-mail seldom dies with the sender or receiver. More than likely copies float to your manager and others. In addition, remember blind copies also go out as verification. Corporate e-mail trails are traceable through the mail server, including date sent, contents, time sent and more.

Writing an e-mail: Take notice of newspaper articles. Newspapers generally put the most important points of a story within the first three sentences. It’s called the inverted pyramid. E-mail should be the same. Put what is important first. Say what you need to say. Don’t dress it up with “corporatese” language. Indicate if action is required and get out. Don’t put the plans for a fighter jet in the e-mail body; make it an attachment. Finally, avoid sending files larger than 1 MB. Large files are network hogs and slow down the retrieval of e-mail for everyone.

Advice for managers: Open your e-mail as soon as possible, prioritize it and then respond. This is not an option. Find time to do it or be perceived as lazy and incompetent. If your e-mail regularly exceeds more than 100 pieces a day, you might want to see if you can get help with that specific portion of your job.

Advice for e-mail senders: Be brief, be exact and be gone. Save your jokes and multi-megabyte vacation files for personal e-mail addresses. By the way, when you have time to send these files, it says you have a lot of time on your hands and need something to do or maybe that the corporation has too many people and could do with one less.

Doctor Bodacious

October 26, 2006 Number 26

Where Do You Want Me to Put It?

One of my favorite songs by a group called Solo may now be an anthem for drug side-effects. One side-effect of taking erectile dysfunction drugs might be blindness! The condition, described as a "stroke of the eye," can cause vision loss in one or both eyes. It is caused by insufficient blood flow to the optic nerve head, damaging the nerve and leading to permanent vision loss. It confirms that blood flow to the brain is interrupted during erections.

On Shaky Ground

At fourteen-years-old, my Catholic school tenure combined with over-active hormones, led to a crush on the 23-year-old girl’s gym teacher, Mrs. Enders who possessed one set of perky breasts, shapely legs and a perpetual tan. Mr. Enders, a former marine with 24-inch biceps, discouraged my interest without my interest ever coming to light. Times certainly have changed and are more favorable these days for 14-year-old boys. I came along too early!

Now, Something Extra!

DVD releases make a big deal out pointing out the disc contains “never seen before” footage. Think about it for a moment. If the footage never saw the light of day, it wasn’t crucial to the movie or the scenes would have been in the original release.

Stand Up for America

This is America, land of the brave and a country of “do-it-yourselfers.” If you’re thinking about suicide, do it, get some help like Jack Kevorkian, but don’t take anyone else with you. That’s the American way. We stand alone. You don’t need an ally. I’m not unsympathetic because life can be tough, but last week a suicidal girl crashed the family Mercedes into a Geo and succeeded in killing everyone except herself and escaped with only a broken ankle. Whatever happened to the good old days when you could wave you wallet at the police and die in a hale of gunfire. Of course, after Los Angeles police fired 120 rounds at a suspect and only hit him four times, none fatal, perhaps a closed garage and a started car are a better way. Okay, that was over the line, but . . .

Sex Education

As a Catholic boy, I attended sex education classes taught by nuns and priests at meetings of the Catholic Youth Organization. Boys went with the priests and the girls with the nuns. Knowing the church’s rules on celibacy I often wonder about our teachers. Now, years later, I understand that experience counts.

Concerned Citizen

Observation: the short bus makes a lot of stops in my neighborhood. I wonder if they are picking up or dropping off?

Truth in Advertising

Saturday I saw a sign in the bookstore “Christian Fiction.” I didn’t comment. Sometimes you have to pass on the easy ones.

Potent Medicine

I saw this on the side of a medicine bottle: In case of death or other serious complications, contact your physician. I wonder how many people read that?

Doctor Bodacious

October 20, 2006 Number 25

First You've Heard?

Did you know the first Black woman to serve as corps commander sergeant major at West Point, was Lt. Emily Perez, who died Sept. 12 when a bomb detonated near her Humvee in Kifl, south of Baghdad, Iraq? As platoon leader, she insisted on leading her troops from the front. Shortly before shipping out to Iraq with the 204th Support Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 4th Infantry Division, she flew cross-country to be a bone marrow donor for a stranger who was a match. Perez, 23, graduated in the top 10 percent of her class, out-ran many men and directed a gospel choir. She was the 64th woman from the U.S. military to be killed in Iraq or Afghanistan.

Who is ED?

ED is another euphemism marketing geniuses came up with to avoid saying impotence. Erectile dysfunction, or ED as it is now known, is nothing new; we just have a different way of talking about it. No one tells you those glass-cutter erections of a 14-year-old will eventually turn into a memory. I remember an adult telling me “there is more to life than sex.” Now, I know why they told me that—it cuts down on male suicide.

Building Barriers

Call me old-fashioned, but I can’t help thinking that if the United States shared borders with Haiti, Uganda or Ethiopia, the fence around the United States would be a fourth-generation structure about to undergo a multi-billion dollar face-lift. And, the favorite hymn in the Baptist Church would be “Jesse Fought the Battle of Jericho,” and the walls came tumbling down.

Nipple

There, I’ve said it. Outside of a conversation on breast feeding, nipples seem to be off limits for television. Recently, a television show about reconstructive surgery featured breast augmentation among other procedures. A variety of breasts filled the screen, but every nipple was blurred out like an obscenity. I bet you can't tell what the photo on the left depicts. Here's a hint: folks, it’s a nipple!

Once upon a time we stuck them in babies’ faces to feed the child. Everyone has a pair, including men. Combined with the rest of the skin in that particular area, they are called breasts on women and pectorals on men. However, I am not against the blurring of nipples or entire breasts in certain cases. If you can tuck your breasts into your belt—they should be blurred.

Men, if you’ve got man tits—please blur or see a surgeon. If you’re cleavage extends more than a foot—blur. If your breasts pull down like old window shades, blurring is in order. It’s not the nipple’s fault.

Early Death

It is a known fact that women outlive men. What isn’t known about these early deaths is that most are intentional. Men don’t die at a younger than women; they take advantage of their "early out" clause.

Old Technology

Millions of dollars go missing every year and are never found. Using the latest investigative techniques and technology haven’t improved recovery more than 5%, but a recent test using television evangelists in California netted nearly a 100% recovery rate. An unfortunate side-effect for the investigating officers teamed with the evangelists was rapid loss of weight, particularly in the rear pocket.