Top Ten of 2007

This is the time of year when every critic, newspaper and TV show trot out their "Top things of the past year" lists. You know, the ten best movies, the ten worst movies, albums, books, penmanship, top ten most shocking celebrity moments, the top ten best underwear commercials, etc, etc, blah, blah. What a bunch of crap. Who cares what their lists are? It's all subjective. I thought Ratatouille was one of the best films I saw, because I only saw a handful of movies, most of which sucked. I think Pushing Daisies is the best show, because it's the only network show I can stomach. And I wish the most shocking celebrity moment would be that Britney and Lindsey and all those other slobs would be shipped off to Zimbabwe to wet nurse wild boars.

So, not to be outdone by all those lists, here is my list of things that I will remember most about the past year. Not in any particular order. And not one of them involves Ellen Degeneres' dog.

1. My divorce from the evil one was official. Sure, I had left almost a year earlier to seek sanctuary in my mother's bosom, (Oh, God, did I write that?), but it's never really over until it's over. And when it was really over, I drank a few shots of 18 year old Glenfiddich and sat in my apartment alone. It was good.

2. I finally got an internet connection at home. I was "borrowing" my neighbor's wireless connection for a while, and it was working just fine, too. Dammit. Then suddenly, without warning, they put a freakin' block on it. And there I was, stranded, without the internets. No e-mail at home, no Googling after hours, no kinkynunsincorsets.com! So, I did it. I called Comcast and got my hook-up. That made this whole blog possible. Among other late night diversions.

3. My daughter made her communion. Which is kind of a big deal to those of us who call the day that Jesus was nailed to a cross "Good" Friday. She looked absolutely beautiful in her lacy white dress. Although her grandparents gave her a big party that I wasn't invited to, because to them, I am the slime on the bottom of a snot trail, which is lower than the snot trail itself. More on that another time. But that's okay, because I got to see her and she truly is my angel that no boy will soil. Ever.

4. I took my son to his first concert. One of my favorite things to ask someone about is their first concert. Mine was ELO. Pretty cool, with the cheesy giant UFO that raised up to reveal the band playing "Turn To Stone." I was a freshman in high school and ELO rocked! I know, it wasn't AC/DC or Van Halen, but hey, at least it wasn't Bay City Rollers or Andy Gibb or someone like that. So I took my 11-year-old son to the WXPN outdoor concert with all these eclectic bands. And in a time when kids his age are listening to crap like Rihanna or Three Blind Mice or whatever their names are, he got to stand right up front and see really cool musicians like Fountains of Wayne and The Fratellis. He even got to meet them. I'd say he'll remember that, which is why I will too.

5. My favorite store closed its doors. In my apartment, you'll find some items, that you may think are geeky, but I think are cool. Like my monkey with a fez bobble head, my retro space rocket tin lunch box, my "automobiles of the '60's" collector plates and tin Hawaiian postcards. All purchased from the now defunct Larry's Hardware, formerly of the supremely eclectic Zern's Farmer's Market in beautiful downtown Gilbertsville. Of course, Larry's didn't carry much hardware, but they had Godzilla models and Jack Skellington toilet brushes. Sure, I can make the hour trek to Zern's for my dried beef needs, but it won't ever be the same without Larry's. Thanks, Neil and Susan for showing me the joys of needless things. Now, where the hell will I ever find a monkey mask...

6. Movie trailers. Dear sweet mother of mercy on a saltine cracker...have you seen some of these things? And most of them are better than the movies themselves. Cloverfield! Speed Racer! Iron Man! Hellboy 2! The Dark Knight! Rambo! I'm such a friggin' geek. And thankfully, so is God, because he grants us these two-minute glimpses of what could be awesome to tease us and make us nerds crazy with anticipation for a damn movie! And it's truly been a banner year for geeks like me and our trailers. I'm not ashamed of this one bit.

7. God. Yes, I truly believe He was with me during one long weekend's bout with an impossibly nasty stomach virus. I called His name many times, and it bounced around the walls of my small bathroom. And after I was through, my pants fit better and I knew He had been there.

8. Boobs. (Hey, they're in my top ten every year.)

9. The return of old friends. My best friend, Anthony (Antny to us in South Philly) and I have been friends for a long time. But this past year has seen the reunion of a wider group of gents who used to hang together like sticky pasta. Richie, Louie, Angelo, Gimmi, Dom and others all decided that it had been too long a time since we've seen each other, and thanks to the miracle of Al Gore's Internets, the impossible became possible. And now, we're planning an even bigger gathering, including Matt and Mike and Nunzio and Rocco. All nice Irish boys. Yeah, right. But those aren't the only friends from the past who resurfaced in my life. My fourth-grade girlfriend (no, she's not in fourth grade now. We both were in fourth grade at the time. Duh.) and I struck up a renewed friendship after running across each other online and now we commiserate regularly on the trials and tribulations that be online dating.

10. Live Musings Nightly. I know, it's been far from "nightly," but it's extremely cathartic for me. And I promise to write more often this coming year. It's one of my resolutions. That and to lose weight. And get completely debt-free. And to learn to make gravy. And to find true happiness. Oh, and to stop writing short thoughts punctuated with periods. But honestly, this blog has been a great creative outlet for me. I have been told that I need to be less "angry" here, but sometimes that's what humor is. It's damn angry with bared teeth and crinkly lines between the eyes. So, I'll keep writing, and I hope you'll keep reading.

Miss Match: Part 3

Okay, I've been told that people really liked hearing about my suffering through insufferable dating experiences, especially those that originated through the whole online dating thing. (See blogs "Miss Match: Parts 1 and 2" from October) I want to say that I'm glad people enjoy my stories of dating gone wrong. I can also say that it's more fun writing about them than it was living through them.

But instead of giving you another long, miserable tale of just one date gone awry, I'll give you an overview of things I've experienced, so if you ever, God forbid, find yourself among the single and looking for a relationship online, you can take heed to these things. Consider this the "potpourri of dating mishaps, wigouts, annoyances and flim flams."

Someone smart once told me, "If it smells fishy, there are probably fish around." Good advice. In other words, if something doesn't seem quite right, you should go with your gut because more than likely, there's more there than meets the eye. Okay, I just explained a cliche with another cliche. So sue me.

I'm not saying I'm perfect. I have my faults. I can be a little insecure sometime, and I have hair on my back. But I consider myself a relatively normal, down-to-earth, hairy-backed person. And I know there's no 'perfect' person. But there's someone out there relatively perfect for me. At least that's what we all hope.

Remember, these are all things that I have experienced firsthand. For example:

• If someone is still active on the online dating site, even after a couple months of dating you, raise the red flag. Call me insecure, but to me, that probably means she's not as into you as you are with her. Hey, I'm just saying. I don't want someone to latch onto me and throw out all other options after the first date, but after several dates, you should know if you want to continue with this person and see where it goes. As my grandmother used to say, "shit or get off the pot." (did people really used to shit in pots? Maybe that's why granny's gravy always tasted funky.)

• If someone hasn't told their friends or family that she's dating someone, even after going out for a couple months, and spending weekends together, there are fish around. I always thought it was common girl talk to discuss who you're dating, where you met and how much you paid for that new pair of slingbacks, just as guys get together to fart and talk about their balls. I'm not looking to be the topic of conversation, but it's nice to know that the person you're seeing is interested in you enough to discuss you with those close to them.

• What the hell is with the texting? Look, I'm a writer. I spend most of my day tapping keys and making words. I don't mind a text or two here and there, but entire conversations? I'm not a 13 year old girl with her first cell phone. (Well, in certain chat rooms, I am, but that's another story.) Texting is nice to send a quick note, other than that, stop it. That goes for the whole IM thing too. As I said, I spend most of my day typing at a computer. Do I need to communicate that way too? I mean, the first couple of chats, fine, but if you want to get to know me, let's just talk on the phone, for crying out loud. brb! lol! UGH! ;-P

• I look forward to weekend getaways with that special someone. I think they can be fun and romantic. I look forward to getting asked to go away with someone. Maybe that woman says, "Hey, next weekend, I'm going to the mountains with my sister and her husband. Wanna come?" Sounds great, right? Sure. Just not on the FIRST DATE! Yikes. Even if the immediate attraction was there, that's a bit much. I mean really.

• I don't think a woman should down a beer faster than me. I'm not a big drinker, but I'm not ready to date Queen of the Keggers.

• Did you ever meet someone who is always looking slightly past you when you talk to them? What the hell is that? It's not that they're checking out something behind you, it's just that they don't look you in the eye. Seems a little autistic or something. I'm here, honey! Look into my eyes! Last I checked, I wasn't a horse with eyes on my temples.

I could probably go on with this, and I'm sure I will sooner or later. But this is a good overview on things to avoid when looking for a relationship, online or offline.

Gotta run. Someone texted me the Magna Carta.

Stuck in my craw. (What the hell is a craw anyways?)

Here's the deal: A lot of people walk into a roomful of strangers and think, "Oh, here's a group of people I don't know. I'm sure they're nice. I'd like to get to know them." Guess what. I'm telling you right now that that doesn't work. Here's a better, proven effective way to proceed. When you walk into a room of strangers, just think, "Oh, here's a group of assholes. I'll see which one can prove to me that they're not an asshole." Much better, believe me. Then you're never dissappointed at the end of the day. You'll never leave a room thinking, "Hey, I can't believe I thought so-and-so was a decent person. They turned out to be such an asshole!" It will always be, "I knew so-and-so was an asshole, and he just proved it."

One thing I've learned over the years is that the majority of people in this world are basically self-absorbed jerks. They care about themselves and no one else. Which is fine, as long as you keep that to yourself. It's when you become a total prick about it, willing to stab anyone in the back or walk on everyone else to get what you think you are entitled to, that it starts to effect those around you. And let me say this, no one in the world is really "entitled" to anything. Think about it. When thousands and thousands of immigrants came to this country years ago, from all over the world, did anyone say, "Hey, thanks for coming to America with your stinky-ass food and your bizarre foreign germs, here's several thousand dollars to help you out, because you're entitled to it." No. No one said that. Okay, maybe victims of crimes and their families are entitled to something, if it's coming from the piece of crap that commited the crime upon said victim. But the general public...not entitled, so give it up.

What put these thoughts in my head? Two words: Christmas shopping.

Holy crap! Is there something that goes off in the collective heads of Americans sometime right before Thanksgiving that makes them become bigger morons than they already are? You know, I don't need to buy a lot of gifts. And I get what I can on the Internet. But there are some things that I need to get in a store, especially for the kids. The mass of bug-eyed, zombified humanity out there in the malls and Targets and Wal-Marts of the country has collectively become the most ignorant pile of flesh ever. I was in the mall on Sunday to pick up a few things, and was knocked about relentlessly by people with shopping bags, none of whom had the simple common courtesy to say "excuse me." What the hell is that? Is it so difficult to acknowledge the fact that you're a clumsy prick? I came across people standing in the middle of an aisle in a store, blocking the way through. When I said "excuse me" to get by, they looked at me as if I was bothering them. And then we wonder why a teen walks into a mall with a AK-47 and lets loose. Yeah, it was the inexcusable act of a severely deranged mind, and too bad he didn't live to face the victim's families rage. But, on some level, wasn't it just the ultimate act of a person so pissed off by the assholes around him that his feeble mind finally snapped? Maybe if everyone was just a little nicer to the kid, eight innocent people would be alive today.

Okay, okay. I'm on a soapbox, and what I really want to be is funny. Sorry about that. Promise that my next entry will be a real hoot. As long as I'm done all my gift buying.

A Visit From Uncle Nick

Okay, so Christmas is quickly approaching. (Yes, I dared to say the "C" word. How perfectly politically incorrect of me. Friggin' sue me.) And the following poem is maybe one of the only traditions I have anymore. I wrote this around 15 years ago and have been sending it around ever since. Now, with the power of this World Wide Webs, it can reach a whole lot more people. And apparently, it has. I've found it's been making the e-mail rounds all over the country. In fact, the reason I chose to put this up today, is that my mom heard her favorite radio DJ reading on the air! Cool. But I've copyrighted it, so use it only with that copyright line, or I'll sue your damn asses off.

Enjoy...

A VISIT FROM UNCLE NICK

or, “Christmas in South Philly”
or, “’Twas? What da hell kinda word is ‘Twas?”

By Steve DiMeo

‘Twas da night before Christmas,
You hear what I’m sayin’?
And all through South Philly,
Sinatra’s Christmas tunes was playin’.

Da sink was piled high,
Fulla dirty dishes,
From da big Italian meal
Of gravy and seven fishes.

Da brats were outta hand
From eatin’ too much candy.
We told them to go to bed
Or there wouldn’t be no Santy.

And me in my sweatpants,
Da wife’s hair fulla rollers,
Plopped our butts on the sofa
To fight over remote controllers.

When out in da shtreet,
There was all dis friggin’ noise.
It sounded like a mob hit,
Ya’ know, by Merlino and his boys.

I trew open da stormdoor
To look and see who’s who.
Like a nosy little old lady
Who’s got nuttin’ better to do.

In da windows of da rowhomes
Stood white tinsel trees.
And those stupid moving dolls
You get on sale at Kindy’s.

When what should I see,
Comin’ from afar.
But fat Uncle Nick
In his big ole Towne Car.

He was swervin’ and cursin’,
Givin’ all da gas he got;
As he barreled up the shtreet,
Looking for a spot.

More faster than Santa,
My drunk Uncle came;
Wit’ a car full of relatives,
All drunk just the same.

“Yo Angie! Ay Dino!
Vic, Gina, and Pete,”
He yelled out there names,
Then spit a loogee in da shtreet

“I can’t find no spot nowheres,”
Pissed off, he said.
So he double-parked the Lincoln,
And came in to hit da head.

As he hugged me, he burped,
And passed a loada gas.
It stunk up da house,
Like a rotten sea bass.

His coat was pure cashmere,
His pinky ring shined;
His toupee was all twisted,
The front was now behind.

He ran up to da bathroom,
Bangin’ pictures wit’ his hips.
Never lettin’ da smelly stogie
Fall from his lips.

With eyes oh so bloodshot,
And a butt, oh so flabby;
In walked Aunt Angie,
All dolled-up and crabby.

“D’jeat yet?” she asked,
As she thundered to da kitchen;
“All da calamari’s gone?”
Aunt Angie started bitchin’.

In came Cousin Gina,
In Guess jeans too tight.
She was bathed in Obsession,
Her hair reached new height.

In strut Cousins Dino,
Little Petey and Big Vic;
Shovin’ pizzelles down their throats,
It was makin’ me sick.

I said, “What da hell
Are all youse people doin?”
Not one of them answered,
They was too busy chewin’.

Uncle Nick came down at last.
His face was beet red.
“Sorry I missed da toilet.
I pissed in the bathtub instead.”

That was it, I had had it.
I yelled, “Get the hell out!”
Uncle Nick looked real puzzled.
Cousin Gina started to pout.

Wit’ that they mumbled curses,
And opened a Strawbridge’s bag.
And fumbled ‘round to find da gift
Wit’ our name on da tag.

I then felt kinda stupid,
As I thanked them for their gift.
But they stormed out da stormdoor,
All of them miffed.

We tore open da paper
That was taped on and on.
It was a bottle of Sambuca,
And half of it was gone.

But I heard him yelling
As he slammed on da gas.
“Merry Christmas, ya ingrate!
You can kiss my ass!”

Yo. Happy Holidays, a’ight?


© 2006 by Steve DiMeo

Driven to tears.

Commuting sucks. I have an 18-mile drive to work everyday, and it is the bane of my existence. It's not really the distance that's the problem. It's just that it's the worst 18 miles you could possible travel. I actually find myself imagining that my car could sprout wings and fly, a la Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Which is a nice thought, if you're a 7-year-old girl. For a 44-year-old man, not so cute.

I think one of the main problems with commuting is the way people drive. You have your aggressive drivers who are assholes, and your passive drivers, who just plain suck ass. It's a lot like life. You got this long line of traffic and nobody is moving, except for this one jerk who rides up the shoulder and squeezes his way in. The cops never see him because there’s always that stupid loser passive schmuck who lets him in. And here I am, stuck in in the traffic of life and here they are on the shoulder zipping past me. And there go all those imbeciles and clueless shmoes letting them get their way in life.

I love the opening scene in Office Space where our "hero" is sitting in a long line of traffic. The lane next to him is moving, and he's in a standstill. So he moves into the other lane, which promptly stops moving, and the lane he just got out of begins to move. I can't even tell you how many times that has happened to me. But of course, I'm always in the wrong lane anyway, whether it's traffic or the supermarket. I always get stuck behind an old person wearing a hat. They are the worst. And I've heard a lot of jokes about how bad Asian drivers are, which tends to be true, but there are just as many non-Asians who suck too. You got your imbeciles texting while driving, your idiots who are clearly medicated in some way, and your buffoons who just simply believe that the laws of the highway apply to everyone but them. Oh, and the jack-offs who really believe that cutting you off, and reducing your "safe distance" with the guy in front of you, will actually get them to their destination that much earlier.

Just once I would love to see one of these morons get pulled over by the cops. I think that's what causes a lot of delays on the highway. Have you ever been in a long line of traffic, only to find the reason is that a cop has pulled over someone on the side of the road. Everyone slows down. I used to think it was just to see what was going on, but now I know it's so they can laugh and point at the guy pulled over. I do it too. Screw the long line of traffic behind me, I'm going to laugh at that asshole and make sure he sees me laughing.

Beyond the drivers is the road itself. Namely the Schuylkill Expressway. And yes, I had to look in up online to makes sure the damn thing was spelled right, which is more respect than it actually deserves. The engineers who designed the Schuylkill Expressway must have been stoned or majorly depressed. The lead guy probably lost his wife and home after a long drunken weekend gambling binge, then came into the office, all pissed off, sat down and designed I-76. It's truly an evil road. You can be on that thing anytime day or night and still get stuck somewhere along the way. 2:30 AM on a Tuesday night and you'll find a back up somewhere.

I used to wonder how people could do that commute day after day, never thinking in the back of my short-sighted mind that I might someday be one of those saps. But I do it. Because bills have to be paid and work has to get done. I really do miss the days that I could be at work in minutes by bus or subway. It was a lot less aggravating, and definitely saved on gas. Although I do remember complaining about the bus and some of the noxious fumes eminating off the riders.

Maybe I'll work from home from now on.