Happy Holidays Everyone! Except for Bloomington. You may be excused.

In an effort to purge any meaning whatsoever and thus create a more consistent utopian bubble void of any and all significance, the city of Bloomington, Indiana has decided this past week to rename a couple of their more ‘controversial’ holidays.  Columbus Day will henceforth be called ‘Fall Holiday’ and Good Friday will be known as ‘Spring Holiday’.  According to the mayor, the purpose of said moniker modification is to “demonstrate our commitment to inclusivity” (excepting of course, those who celebrate Columbus Day or Good Friday).

Columbus Day is controversial because it celebrates the ‘discovery’ of the Americas by Europeans and its resultant history of colonialism, oppression, genocide, fast food, and baseball.  Good Friday is controversial because it excludes others by commemorating the day Jesus was killed and, um…why is that exclusionary again?  I guess because other people groups weren’t killed equally.  I’m not sure.

My point is Continue reading

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An Open Letter to Those Who Write Open Letters

Dear Open Letter Writer,

While I appreciate the time and effort you put forth in stringing various words together into often complex sentences, and while I also appreciate you usually starting with a positive and complementary tone before going on some sort of impertinent rant, on behalf of literates everywhere I feel I must respectfully request that you refrain from future compositionary activity and stop writing open letters.

I fully understand that writing open letters is all the rage right now and fewer things have contributed to this tiresome trend greater than the marvel of the electronic interweb and its various addictive time-vacuuming social media outlets, but before you jump on the metaphorical exhibitionist bandwagon there are some things you should probably know. Continue reading

What Is It About Food That Makes Me Want To Eat It?

032Austin, Texas: named for Stephen F. Austin, considered to be the ‘Father of Texas’ and the first bionic man.  I was lucky enough to have a day to putz around in Austin recently and so I did a little googling to find out what exactly makes Austin tick other than its mild case of Turrets.  I did know that Austin is known largely for being the Blue bastion within a perpetually blushing Red state, but I didn’t want to go down that road.  One road I did want to go down was 6th Street, known largely for mayhem, collegiate debauchery, and launching up-and-coming artists into the satiatingly saturated and highly self-congratulatory music industry.

But nah.

Being a transplanted Minnesotan, I decided instead to go on safari and hunt amongst the Texan (George) bushes for that wild, elusive and somewhat dangerously delicious game found predominantly in The South of the United States known simply as Continue reading

Nostalgia Ain’t What It Used to Be

Prolific congratulatory offerings are in order for the conTIMplating household!  My extraordinarily talented and formerly red-headed daughter, Thing 2, graduated from high school last week!  Thank you. Thank you very much.  That’s one reason I haven’t posted in a while.  I’ve been busier than Josh Earnest after Obama goes off teleprompter.  This is because as the end of the senior year approaches, everything leading up to graduation is The Last One:  The Last choir concert; The Last theater performance; The Last prom; The Last suspension; etc.  And being the good parent I am I felt I should be there for The Last One.  I can’t just sit around and blog or go out and play golf and miss The Last One like it was The Second-to-Last One.  Well, maybe a quick nine.  I can be a little late.

Unlike Thing 1’s graduation, which was highly celebratory in nature, going through the process of graduating my concluding offspring made me a bit nostalgic for the tight-rolled pants and leather ties of my own commencement.  I suppose it was due to the compatible similarities of the two events, detached only by the passage of 30 years:  both were in early June in un-air-conditioned arenas where friends and family sweat it out on bleacher seating; both of us were the youngest in our family to graduate leaving the distinct probability of parental empty nesting; and both were as a member of a quartet of inseparable friends taking part in one last official and emotional milestone together.  (If I knew what an emoji was, I would insert it here.) Continue reading

A Breakfast Fuss for the Rest of Us

The Mexican Omelet at Mo's Grill in San Francisco.  Studies show that you are 30% more likely to have heart disease from viewing this picture.

The Mexican Omelet at Mo’s Grill in San Francisco. Studies show that you are 30% more likely to have heart disease from viewing this picture.

I’ve never been much of a breakfast eater.  You could probably say I’m Break(fast)ing Bad.  I think it stems from the trauma of watching my granddad soak saltine crackers in his coffee then place them on his Corn Flakes and peaches.  The result is I don’t really care for breakfast foods.  I do like your Euro-breakfast foods with their breads and meats and cheeses and Nutellas.  But American breakfasts are ho-hum, which is one step below hi-ho.  There’s nothing exciting about pancakes and I never cared for eggs partly because they come out of a chicken’s butt.  But like most things that come out of a chicken’s butt, I guess they taste okay if you put enough cheese and hot sauce on them.   Asian breakfasts with their mystery slimes are right out.

I grew up eating sugary cereals and Pop Tarts for breakfast and heading off to school in all my ADHD glory.  I never ate breakfast in high school, though I probably would have if I were in a club with Molly Ringwald. Continue reading