Mother's day sentimentality

I am not going to denigrate Mother's Day. When it's convenient it can be fun. You buy her a present and in return you get to eat a good meal and drink a couple of Dad's or your siblings beers. Mothers deserve a day. Mothering children can be a thankless task.

 It being a cold and rainy day I've been spending time on Facebook and reading all the things people say about their Moms. It's led me to a theory that Mother's qualities increase exponentially with the years.

When you are young you have a different view of dear Mother. The college student is in the basement with a few pals, smoking a joint and drinking Pop's beer. The last voice he wants to hear is Mother's yelling down from the kitchen.
"You know, we are going to early mass tomorrow. Don't be too late getting to bed!"

Then you get older and can't wait to get away from the house. You are in your own pad and the phone rings. Maybe it's that lady you spoke to at the party. No, it's your mother. You try to be polite but get rid of her as soon as possible.

Then she gets sick and you argue with your brother about whose turn it is to take her to the doctor. "I would love to take her but we have an important meeting at work on Tuesday."

After your mother passes away she is rehabilitated in your minds. Her goodness expands while those moments when you argued with her or was mad at her go away. After a decade or two she becomes the saint who always was your guide to life and who you miss so much. That is when we see all the goop that people are putting on Facebook this weekend. Putting sentimental pictures up on Facebook is a nice way to spend an hour while your clothes are drying. Oh I wish Mom was still alive. I hate doing laundry.

High heels

As we sit in our kitchens contemplating nuclear war with Korea, a new controversy has emerged, thanks to our friends in jolly olde England. Apparently there is a group that does not like the idea that companies in Britain can force females to wear high heeled shoes. The government apparently refused to change the law but promised a guidance letter to be issued this summer.

One one hand, when I'm in a fancy nightclub or restaurant (admittedly a rare event) I've always thought it was nice to have a waitress in a short dress and high heels. On the other hand, for the price of a free cup of soup I might even be willing to forgo that pleasure. The women in Britan argue that it is a sexist situation, since men are never required to wear high heels to the office. That is true, I don't even own a pair.

Bill O'Reilly

For years I have watched Bill O'Reilly before going to bed. I like him because he is in the "spin free zone". Now he's in trouble. Why? Because he always tell the truth. I'm of the opinion that it's always the woman's fault. If you want to leave their husbands and go on tv I guess they have the right but to bring down a decent person like old Bill isn't right.

Easter

A few years ago I wrote an Easter blog. Happy Easter. Today was also my old man's birthday.

Self flushing toilets

I have a gripe. The gripe is about the new self-flushing toilet they put in at work. The theory is that most people are too lazy or too distracted to flush the toilet. However I have a gripe. After I do my business and stand up to horse around with the toilet paper it flushes. Then, after I put in the toilet paper I have to flush it again. I don't see how turning one flush into two flushes is efficient or saves water. 

Yesterday I was sitting on the john thinking about my pension when suddenly the toilet flushed unexpectedly. I felt like I was using a bidet as I got an unexpected rinse in a place I wasn't expecting. Seems the water was higher than usual due to toilet paper or something jamming the mechanism. I guess it could have been worse. New Jersey, unlike some states, doesn't have alligators in the sewer systems.  

You gotta have a fall guy

In the Maltese Falcon, Humphrey Bogart proposes a fall guy. In order to give the police something to keep them out of their way. The truth is that in most things, you need a fall guy. The guy who takes the blame.

A bunch of kids are rough housing just as the teacher walks in. One kid, not even the worst offender, gets caught climbing a chair. He gets punished while the rest of the gang look on like the boys choir in a Bing Crosby movie. You need a fall guy.

Same as with health care. With Obamacare the rich, and the successful small businessman took the fall. They had to pay the extra taxes and fines. Now the Republicans are writing a plan and all the taxes and most of the fines are gone. The problem is there's no fall guy. That's why it doesn't make fiscal sense. If there is any fall guy, it's the poor. The poor are getting rambunctious though. They are tired of being the fall guy and could make it difficult in the next Congressional elections.

The question is who should be the fall guy. The insurance companies? The doctors?  The hospitals? The old? No, the old will vote you out of office. The young? Yes, let's hang it on the young. Let young people take the fall. They talk big but they don't vote.

When I was in high school there was another kid in my English class who applied to Rutgers. We both had pretty much the same grades, but we couldn't both go to the same school. College admissions wouldn't allow two guys from the same school on campus. He had to take the fall. In politics, as in life, you need a fall guy. In the Maltese Falcon it had to be Elisha Cook or Peter Lorre. Somebody has to take the fall.

A day without women

I woke up late this morning, expecting an easy ride to work. With all the women taking off, I figured the highways would be empty and the parking lots would just have a few SUV's for the few brave male souls at work. I was wrong. It was just a normal day, everybody seemed to be in as usual. Oh well. The media made a big deal of the day anyway.

WXPN radio celebrated the day with an all woman's playlist. The Internet had lots of articles on the day including an article about how women do a lot of unpaid work in this country. Somehow, I feel left out of enjoying all this unpaid labor. Mother in the cemetary and no wife on the horizon I have to cook, clean, shop, launder, etc. all by my lonesome.

Sometimes I get wistful and imagine married life. I come home and am greeted by the smells of a hot manicotti in the oven. The bathroom is pristine clean. My laundry is divided into whites, colors, and my shirts have been ironed. Unlike the rug in my living room, the rug is freshly vacuumed and a  smell of pot-pourri fills the air. Fresh daisies greet me in the living room. The kids are back from soccer practice and the wife parks the car and kisses me hello.

Like  William Powell in Life with Father I inspect the kids ears at the dinner table, then take a look at the stock page in the paper. Married life isn't so bad. As I take off my shoes and watch the basketball game I can hear my wife running the dishwasher in the kitchen. After that she will fluff up the pillows in the bedroom and check on the lad's homework. Is this the way most married men live? Perhaps but I am doubtful, just a bit.