The Empty Soda Can

We all know the running gag: Christmas keeps coming earlier every year. Back when we were kids, the Christmas stuff would hit the aisles, the second Thanksgiving was over. As time went on, it started predating Thanksgiving—first a little bit, then significantly. Now by mid-October, we regularly see Hallowe’en and Christmas items being sold side by side. So with all this jumping the gun, I guess what I’m about to say shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me—nor, I suppose, will it to you. This evening, I stopped by the store after work to grab some last-minute items for our New Year’s Eve party. We already had most everything we needed, but I’d forgotten the marshmallows for the Rice Krispie Treats. In addition to grabbing what I came for and the requisite few other items, I found myself in for quite the surprise. There they were, right in the front of the store, between two cash-register lanes: Cadbury Creme Eggs. In December. Happy New Year, everybody, and remember: bawk, baw...

I was recently reading my brother-in-law Ed’s blog entry regarding his eighth wedding anniversary, and I couldn’t help but get to thinking, regarding the wedding photos he posted therewith. It got me to thinking about one of the most obvious differences between men and women. The photo at right was gleaned from a random web site using Google Image Search . It’s certainly no one I know, which is exactly why I used it: I don’t want anyone to think I’m singling them out specifically. The question I’m getting at, though, is this: what do you see here? On the right, we have a bride, dressed in a beautiful white gown and veil. Her hair is perfect; her face, perfect; if we could zoom in on her nails, I expect they’d be perfect too. Add to this her long, blonde hair, and this bride is the epitome of worldly perfection in every conceivable way. On the left, we have a guy in a suit. Is it just me, or is this pretty typical? I know a lot of guys rent tuxes for their weddings, but even that seem...

Just thought my readers here would be interested in my latest Drakelings post: Facial Recognition :-)

Many years ago, Chevrolet released a car called the “Nova.” My wife, Anna, was one of the many individuals to own such a car: a car that was great for a while, but made us very sad when I had to drive my then-fiancée to work for several weeks—and very happy to have AAA Plus when we had to tow it just over 100 miles from her old apartment in Bloomington to our first home in Lafayette. She would eventually get the car fixed and sell it to her younger sister, who has herself long since moved on to a newer (and thus, more reliable) vehicle. Despite all this, however, my wife generally enjoyed her Chevy Nova for the time that she had it. Until that fateful day that it had a major problem (I think it was the alternator), it had been a pretty good little car. Unfortunately, this wonderful little hatchback’s success was—shall we say— limited outside the United States. It’s not that it wasn’t dependable; it was. It’s just that when they tried to export it to Latin America, they wasted a lot of ...

First of all, hats off to my beloved brother-in-law Ed, who started me down this thought process with  this post . If you’d like to read it before continuing here, that’s fine; I’m not going anywhere. Now for my thoughts: first of all, it’s definitely easy to go to one extreme or the other. I am reminded of the conscious decision I made, somewhere along the line, that I didn’t give a *$#@ what other people think about me as long as I’m happy with myself. I’m still not sure my unconscious mind is completely on board with this decision, but it does manifest itself in things like: When I go to the beach, I generally let my gigantic belly hang out all over the place, despite the fact that most guys my size would be hiding under a T-shirt. When I was 13 years old, I really liked Debbie Gibson (mostly because I was a teenage boy with hormones, but I digress) and actually saw her in concert twice. The day after each concert, I wore the T-shirt I’d purchased there, knowing full well...