Booster Seats!

Alright then, I believe I have come up with a new topic. It took me awhile to decide, but after extensive consultation with my astrologer, I have decided to write about the following subject.


The Ohio General ASSembly has just passed a new law requiring booster seats in vehicles for children under 4 feet 9 inches tall. This is to make up for the deficiencies inherent in the current design of automobile lap and shoulder belts for people of small stature. It's about time! It's hard to believe any Ohioan has survived into adulthood without there being such a law in the past. How different our history would have been if the intrepid pioneers of America's past had had booster seats in their covered wagons and Model T's.
Now, with this long-awaited law, if you are stopped for some reason by an officer of the law and your child is booster seatless, you can be fined from $25 to $75. The added expense and inconvenience of the new mandate for parents and people who occasionally drive kids is offset by the potential gains to be made by those who buy stock in booster seat-producing companies. I'm sure that now in China there is great jubilation among lead miners who will be mining the material which the factories will be using to make the new booster seats.

But is a simple booster seat sufficient humiliation -- er, protection-- for grammar school kids? Can't our wonderful, benevolent, all-wise and underpaid legislators mandate more rigorous measures to ensure our children's well-being and happiness as we drive them to and fro upon Ohio's non-pockmarked roads and highways? I think so. I hope so. I foresee a time when Officer Friendly, in pulling over an Ohio citizen for having a slightly dimmed license plate light or for going 40 in a 35 mph zone, will be able to cite the driver for more than just the lack of a booster seat. I hope to see a time when the irresponsible parent can be penalized for not dressing the child in flame retardant underwear and socks, for failing to equip the child with a Chinese-made crash helmet, for not providing each child under 4 foot 9 with a SafeCitizen Sippy Cup, for the youngster not wearing a hard rubber mouth guard to protect his or her vulnerable teeth, for not encasing the kids in bubble wrap and filling the back seat with styrofoam peanuts to help cushion the jarring of the inevitable traffic mishap. Such a time, unfortunately has not yet arrived in Ohio, but with more hard work by citizen activists and lazy politicians, that time will come.

Possible Blogging Topics.

I am giving serious consideration to posting another entry on this blog in the near future. I haven't yet decided what I will blog about though. Here are some possibilities:
* The weather has been fairly unpleasant lately here in Cleveland.
* Christmastime has arrived and the New Year is on its way.
* We will soon have a new President of the United States.
* The NFL season is winding down and the Cleveland Browns are not quite as good as I'd hoped.
* I recently had a birthday and am therefore another year older.
* The economy is going through some bad times.
* I was recently chased through the streets of Prague by a gang of desperate, knife-wielding crossword puzzle enthusiasts and only managed to save myself by climbing down an open manhole whereupon I came upon a hidden civilization of mole people hidden deep under the ancient sewer system of Prague. These people treated me at first with suspicion, but later came to see me as a kind of deity. I lived with them for a few weeks, but grew tired of their constant sycophancy and the fact that pears are the mainstay of their diet. I hate pears. So one night I sneaked out of their hidden city, having left a thank you note, and returned to civilization.
* Air travel is not what it used to be.
* Some people put up their Christmas decorations early, and some people take theirs down the minute Christmas is over.
* I really hate getting up in the morning.
* How about those gas prices?
* Every Christmas it seems that I eat quite a bit of food.

These are all possibilities for blogging, as they are all quite interesting topics. I will in the coming weeks narrow down the possibilities and announce my choice. In the meantime, keep watching Fishbrick. And happy New Year.

The UbiquitousTip Jar

I recall a time when it was common practice that certain service workers would receive tips from grateful customers to augment their low wages. Thus, waiters and baggage handlers, cab drivers, shoe shiners and others have become dependent upon and expectant of the tips proffered by their patrons. Ideally the amount of the tip has been commensurate with the quality of service received. With most of these types of jobs this tipping has been going on for decades, if not centuries. It is tradition. I have no problem with that. However, times have changed. Now we have something known as the "tip jar." This jar is placed on the counter next to the cash registers of ten million newly deserving service workers. Now the kid who hands you the mustard packet or rings up your purchase of breath mints is eligible for a tip. Why? Because there is a jar in front of him that has the word "tips"scrawled on it. I don't like this. What makes the ice cream scoopist or the latte pourista suddenly worthy of the tip where once they were not? Somebody just decides to place a "tip jar" in front of them one day and we must now tip them? No matter what they do?

It's not that I'm cheap (I am), it's just that it seems to me that this is not an organic process here. This is not a tradition forming by the common practice of grateful customers. No, it's a contrived, forced, coerced practice foisted on us by copycats who see a good thing and want a part of it. "They're asking for tips at the Starbuckles across the street, so I'm going to put a tip jar here at my locksmithery." And lo and behold, our locksmith makes a key, and the well-trained customer, seeing the tip jar on the counter, gives him a dollar. Voila, a fake custom is born.

Now, I have nothing against a happy customer giving the locksmith a tip, but I am against the locksmith having a jar there, silently badgering his hapless customers into giving him extra money. If this customer wanted to give the locksmith extra money, he can simply say, "keep the change." That's a real tip. That's how the customer expresses his gratitude at a job well done. Being guilted into throwing money into big fat "tip jar" is not the way to do it. And I happen to know that the workers put seed money into the jar to make it look like everybody else is leaving tips for them, so we will feel obliged to leave ours.

It seems to me that if all one has to do to receive tips is to place a one of these jars in front of himself, then we will start seeing tip jars in places heretofore undreamed of. For instance, I can imagine tip jars being placed in doctors' offices, or in front of bank tellers; held out by umpires at home plate; hanging from cockpit doors; a black-beribboned jar on top of the casket at the funeral home; a jar on the desk of the IRS agent auditing you. Why not have a tip jar for every person you come in contact with throughout the day? Then, when Mildred in Accounting hands you the Hoopnagel file, you put a buck in her tip jar. Of course, you would have your own jar, so maybe you would come out ahead in the end.

But why not forestall this kind of insanity ever coming into vogue by stopping this proliferation of tip jars now, while there is still time. I think next time I come across one of these jars, I am going reach into the jar and grab a few bucks as a reward for taking the trouble to patronize the establishment. That way, the service person won't have to say thank you after taking my order.

Run-on Sentence

If ever you go against your better judgment, against your publicly stated resolution, against your solemn vow to yourself never to be caught dead or alive at any time or for any reason either inside or near a KFC; and doing so, order a new chicken wrap combo, knowing that this particular combo contains nutrients insufficient to sustain human life; knowing that the fat and sugar in this meal will surely add unsightly fat to your body; knowing that you will be disappointed with this meal even upon taking your first bite; and especially, knowing that KFC tends to produce inside your digestive system strange and unpleasant effects; and you wolf down this unholy mess anyhow, and thus find that, a full day later, you are still suffering from one of the worst cases of heartburn you have ever had, then simply take a teaspoon of vinegar and you will find sweet relief.

My Gift to You

Okay, folks, here's another post. I might as well blog while I'm in the mood, because I might not sit here a-bloggin agin fer a month a Sundays. So here goes.

Recently, I helped to write a letter for a friend of mine attempting to get out of a speeding ticket she got in small town Virginia. I had no hope that the judge there would listen to her plea or do anything at all for her to reduce the punishment. I was wrong, however. And though the judge did not waive the penalty, he did reduce the amount she owed by about one third. I had no idea that the judicial system in Virginia could be so swayed by my soaring prose. If I had known that mere words could influence the bench, I would have sent a nice letter to Judge Carroll in Lakewood for my own recent traffic incident. But I digress. I have decided that, as a token of appreciation to those loyal Fishbrick readers who so enthusiastically supported my recent extended sabbatical from the blog, I am going to provide a sample letter to use in case they receive speeding citations of their own. Just fill in the appropriate blanks and utilize the proper pronouns (if applicable.)

Dear Judge,

Recently, as I had the great good fortune to find myself driving through _________ I was stropped by a member of your crack police department who apparently was between naps. I was doing nothing wrong; transgressing no laws, but he/she/it felt compelled to pull me over anyway. This despite the important business I had waiting for me outside of your "fair city." Not that I would never have any business inside your town, but it's just that I don't personally have any dealings with the methamphetamine industry.
Now I don't blame Officer _______ for stopping me. He/she was just doing his/her job in seeing to the safe operation of the town's lucrative speed trap. I'm sure he/she would rather have stayed in the patrol car eating his KFC/donuts/Fruit Rollups, but a quota is a quota, and somebody has to pay the courthouse salaries. When he/she waddled over to my car, I explained with the utmost tact and respect that I had done no wrong and in fact was driving below the posted limit. But I think the long walk from the patrol car to my car irritated his/her otherwise good nature, and the result was that my entreaties fell on deaf ears. (By the way, I have never seen a human being sweat as much as the good Officer _______ did after walking that 15 yards. )
I realize that Officer ______ may not have been allowed to change my ticket on the spot, or that he/she may not have understood every word I said, some of them being over two syllables long. Thus, Your Honor, I turn to you with my plea and ask you to do what you must know in your heart of hearts to be the just thing. And that, sir/madame, is to waive punishment for this non-offense, and let your act of justice shine forth as a beacon to corrupt local officials the world over. Let this be the beginning of a new day of tolerance and understanding, peace and harmony, love and good sportsmanship. And please know, too, that by doing the right thing, you thereby increase the chances of my once again driving through the town of ______ , but this time with a smile on my face and joy in my heart. Who knows, I may even stop at that filthy diner off the highway and use the restroom. If I see you, I will shake your hand.

Sincerely, _________

Blogging Under Duress

Well, it's that time of the year again. Time to post to my blog. At least according to Laura, who is forcing me to do this or she will withhold a large amount of money conditionally pledged to a jog-a-thon I was in (see video here). Personally, I think it is too soon for another post, but it's out of my hands. Ironically, the last time I posted was when the Cleveland Cavaliers lost their home opener back in October. An inauspicious beginning, that. However, they turned their foundering ship around, improved their performance, made some big trades and got into the playoffs against all expectations. And then, finally, they reverted back to their normal state and lost to the Celtics in the second round of the playoffs, after dragging us through an excruciating seven game series.

Oh, well, things are better here in Cleveland than they were for many years, at least sportswise, so I will be content for now with my teams achieving upper-level mediocrity. The next Cleveland team to put us through the wringer on the way to losing the big game will be the Indians. I've learned, though, to endure the disappointment. After all, I am an Ohio State fan, and they have lost three championship games in two years. That is good practice for fans of Cleveland's pro teams. Wow, this blogging thing is fun. I think I'll do another one.

Biennial Update

Greetings, o hard-to-alienate readers. It is I again. I apologize for the infrequency of my updates, but I have been very close to busy since my last entry. The prospect of possibly being occupied with important, pressing or essential matters kept me from writing anything for the last few weeks. Not that I was actually busy, mind you, but there were some times that I thought I might be, so I kept myself in readiness by resting my fingers.

So then, what has happened since October 16th's Trick or Treat posting? A few things. Just a few things. One event of note was the rise and fall of the Cleveland Indians in the postseason. The mighty Tribe made mincemeat of the Yankees, employing everything in their arsenal: timely hitting, unhittable pitching, wily management, clutch defense, gnats. We threw everything we had at the Gotham Millionaires and vanquished them in five or six games ( I forget which it was; details are not my specialty). All of Northeast Ohio was abuzz after that. Fans were ecstatic, eagerly anticipating the series with the Boston Red Sox, a team with the same win/loss record as the Indians. People were buying Indians' merchandise by the Hummerload, painting their faces and bedecking their homes and offices with banners and Chief Wahoo's smiling face. In fact, fans here were looking beyond the Boston series to the World Series against the Amazing Rockies. Not that we expected the Red Sox to roll over and die, but we were on a hot streak. Then our streak became red hot when we went up three games to one against the Sox. We were as good as World Series bound. Nothing could stop us now. We only needed to win one more game and we would finally be in a position to win it all. The Cleveland Indians were going to go to the World Series and beat the Rockies and reign supreme over all!

Then something else happened. I forget.

Let's see, onto other recent events. How about Halloween. Americans love Halloween. In fact, recent studies have found that four out of five adult Americans get at least forty percent of their yearly caloric intake from Halloween candy. I made that up. Anyway, Halloween was great this year. Here in Ohio the weather was splendid. The little trick-or-treaters were in hog heaven, navigating through a veritable ocean of candy. Kids around here can eat so much candy after Halloween that they often can become large enough to be seen from outer space. (I actually met a woman once who was so big around that she had her own moon.) I myself got into the Halloween Spirit this year by not only polishing off two bags of Halloween candy, but also by carving a Jack-of-the- Lantern. It took me about four evenings and the near-amputation of one finger, but it was fun (I'm talking about my eating the candy).

Unfortunately I was unable to participate in the holiday festivities as I instead went to a Cleveland Cavaliers "basketball game" that night. The Cavs, Eastern Conference Champs, were unspeakably awful that night. I have actually seen a team of headless lemurs play better ball than they did that night. And it was their much-anticipated opening night, too; the big night they hoisted their championship banner into the rafters and celebrated the feats of the previous season. Blech! And to make matters worse, the Cavaliers were wearing orange uniforms in honor of Halloween. They should have been dressed in turkey suits. Not that I regret going that night. Where else could I get a cup of domestic beer for $6.75? Plus, I felt quite invigorated from the exercise of walking up and down the stairway to my seat in the stratosphere. But I do have one question: was there some kind of glitch in the design software that resulted in the seats at the Quicken Loans Arena being too small for anybody wider than 11 inches? It wasn't too bad for me. I was able to enjoy the game without moving laterally or eventually being able to feel my arms, but I am not a large person. I am neither tall nor am I gifted with girth. How, I ask, does anybody who shops at a full-figured or big and tall store fit into one of those three-quarter size arena seats? I don't believe that the seats were meant to be used as anything but scenery, like the upper floors at Main Street in Disneyland, which are made small to create the illusion that the buildings are larger than they actually are. Are the seats any larger as you get closer to the lower levels and the TV cameras? Can an adult male sit comfortably in the third row? I don't know, I've never been closer to the action than row 13 upper, upper tier, where one has to use a ski lift to get to one's seat.

But anyway, I'm ready for more Cleveland sports misery, as tomorrow I'm going to the Browns' game.

Trick or Treat

The trick-or-treaters this year are going to love the Kit Kats I have for them. This I know because I have sampled from the large bag. I think they will especially love the Halloween Kit Kats with the orange coating. Some may prefer the white chocolate Kit Kats. It's hard to know what the kiddies will go for. I think that further sampling on my part may settle the question once and for all. I hope the bag holds out long enough for me to form a proper opinion on the matter. I never did decide which of the two types of Nerds was best, the strawberry or the grape. I ran out before I could reach a conclusion. Too bad, because I bet the little ones would have loved them.