Just Let It Go

Not too long ago , a group promoting atheism posted the message "Imagine a World Without Religion" on a billboard in a community near where we live.

The outrage from Christians was immediate and intense. The billboard company removed the message within a week.

The entertaining part for me is the debate that has raged in the letters to the editor in my local paper. Christians blame atheists for this. Atheists blame Christians for that.

There are usually millions of deaths throughout history attributed to the other group.

The thing that really struck me was that both groups are talking past the other. Atheists don't seem to understand why believers believe and believers can't understand why atheists don't believe.

The only lesson I take from this is:

Protesting a billboard doesn't do much to further the Kingdom of God.

And Another Thing...

... that really chaps my hide: loose toilet seats.

I know you thought I was going to say, "Republicrats" or "high gas prices" but those don't bother me nearly as much as a loose toilet seat.

There is no excuse for a loose toilet seat. It doesn't even require tools to fix. There is just a little plastic nut on the filthy underside of the toilet. Reach back there and give it a twist.

And then wash your hands really good. It's pretty gross under most toilet seats.

I know a guy who pinched his nut sack pretty badly when the toilet seat slipped, trapping him between the seat and bowl. He cried like a baby.

No Thanks. I'll Drive.

When I was a kid flying on an airplane to a far off destination was exciting. I would think about it for weeks.

The stewardess (that's what we called them in the old days) gave me a little set of pilot's wings. I got to sit in the cockpit with the pilots. And they gave me a plastic coated souvenir bag. It was so cool. Even the food was good.

Flying is not so fun anymore.

Since my family moved to Montana I've flown up there a couple of times. In October 2006, Tabitha was away at a conference so I decided to take the kids to Montana for the weekend. We booked our flights from Ontario, through Denver, to Missoula.

If you ever need sympathy from fellow travellers take a plane trip by yourself with two small children.

Our flight into Denver was delayed due to a blizzard. Our flight to Missoula was cancelled. We diverted to Spokane and drove a rental the rest of the way. I paid $300 to drop the car off in Missoula. And then the TSA Nazi asked me to remove Aidan's shoes when we went through security.

What the hell?

I know airline security is mostly BS. I know the TSA knows airline security is mostly BS. Did he seriously think I had placed a bomb in my 10-month-old son's size three sneakers? Having the ability to read a situation and decide upon alternative courses of action is a sign of intelligence. Removing shoes from an infant for "security reasons" is not.

Why should I pay good money to arrive 2 hours before my flight, pad through the security screening in my socks, explain why I have a bottle of formula in my carry-on, cram into a torture device disguised as a seat, eat soy nuts and drink half a bottle of water, hope my luggage made it, and then do it all over again to come home?

Missoula is about 1200 miles from my house by car. It should take 3 hours at the most to fly there. Instead, I usually have to devote 12 hours.

I can drive to Pocatello, Idaho in 12 hours. I can drink the biggest bottle of water my bladder can handle. I can eat as many bags of Doritos as I want. And I get to drive through the Virgin River Gorge, past the Wasatch Front, over Moneida Pass, and into the open spaces of Montana.

And now I can stop at the In-N-Out just outside St. George, Utah.

No thanks. I'll drive.

Busy

I'm tired. I've been slaving away from sun-up to sun-down. I barely have time to eat. But it's fun. I'm learning lots of new stuff.

A word of advice:

If you are going to die of an accidental overdose, don't do it where your kid can find you. It's not a very nice thing to do.

The Guy's Been Dead for What ... 15 Years?

Every morning I listen to Kevin and Bean on KROQ during my morning commute. I wouldn't call myself a "Kevin and Bean Listener" because that implies I spend most of my day smoking pot and playing video games. I don't. But I do enjoy the show.

And every day they play a Sublime song. It might be "Date Rape" or "What I Got" or "Wrong Way" or "Santeria." I didn't like Sublime back in the early 90's when they were new and Bradley Nowell hadn't yet killed himself with a heroin overdose. The passing years haven't caused me to love them anymore. The daily dose of Sublime on the Kevin and Bean Show is my cue to switch over to NPR.

You're thinking "No problem." I'm a mature listener who can change the channel on my radio. True.

The problem is that I get caught up in whatever story is on NPR. I start listening to a piece on an outbreak of malaria in sub-Saharan Africa or one on a young Palestinian girl trying to attend school in spite of the fighting in her town and miss an entertaining break on KROQ. Malaria and the plight of Palestinian school-children might be important but they're not Federleezy, "Brow Down", or Loquisha.

And don't get me started on the daily Red Hot Chili Peppers' song.

Things That I Love

This is for my Mom who wanted to know why I hadn't written about the things I love. Well, it's kind of embarrassing. Here they are in no particular order:

Puppies,
Kittens,
Baby birds,
Precious Moments figurines,
Snowflakes,
Soft kisses,
Walks on the beach,
Thomas Kinkade paintings (they're so light-like),
Soft music,
Frilly shirts,
"Love is..." cartoons,
"Ziggy" cartoons,
Hello Kitty,
Strawberry Shortcake (not the dessert),
Bunny slippers,
A warm bath,

and

People who try to rob a store using a toy gun only to find out the clerk has a real gun and the robber gets shot in the face.

I love that.

Another Thing I Hate

Dry, itchy eyes.

Things I Hate

Mayonnaise,
Bell peppers,
Omelets,
Liver,
Budweiser,
Slow drivers in the fast lane,
Politicians,
People who think "Two and a Half Men" is funny,
People who don't like "30 Rock",
Hair metal,
Celebutantes,
Margarine,
The cocky guy from high school,
Dried out ball-point pens,
Head lice,
Brightly colored clothing,
Ear hair,
Ear wax,
Nose hair,
Back pain,
People who are rude to service workers,
Long waits at McDonald's (why should I wait a long time for crappy food?),
MTV,
Velveeta,
Sociopaths,
The arrogant rich,
The idle poor,
The smug middle class,
Michael Jackson's post-"Thriller" work,
Classical music snobs,
Art snobs,
Cheese snobs,
Beer snobs,
Wine snobs,
Book snobs,
Democrats,
Republicans,
Libertarians (how's that enlightened self interest going?),
Rap stars,
Rock stars,
Porn stars,
Muck-raking journalists,
Self-serving public servants,
People who write asinine letters to the editor,
Rattlesnakes (fear breeds contempt),
Clowns,
Mid-1970s American automobiles (a 90 horsepower V8?!?!??),
Preachy vegans,
Immigrant scapegoaters,
Manchester City Football Club,
The St. Louis Rams,
The Oakland Raiders,
The N.Y. Yankees (I remember the 1977 World Series),
Reggie Jackson (see above),
Too-tight shoes,
Ingrown toenails,

And...

People who write lists of things they hate.

The Great Indoors

I am a die-hard indoorsman.

I don't like to sleep outside. I don't like it when little mice run across my sleeping bag. I don't like having to check my sleeping bag for rattlesnakes (I hate rattlesnakes). I don't like sleeping when there are mosquitoes buzzing around my head. I don't like sleeping on top of a small rock. I don't like sleeping on an air mattress that deflates in the middle of the night leaving me on top of a small rock.

I don't like being dirty. I don't like having greasy hair. I don't like having a choice between dirty underwear and no underwear. I don't like having to bathe in an icy cold mountain stream when the sun has dipped below the horizon.

I don't like going to the bathroom behind a tree. I don't like going to the bathroom in a pit toilet that was vandalized by a previous occupant. I don't like using leaves as toilet paper.

I don't like eating freeze dried food. It never looks as good as it does on the label. I don't like fiddling with a cranky stove to use half of my fuel supply to make a pot of bad coffee. I don't like having to run my water through a filter to keep me from spending the next few months fighting off a wicked case of diarrhea.

I do however, like to hike. There is nothing better than walking up a mountain trail while breathing in clean air. I have dreams of walking all over this great country of ours. I just don't dream of having to sleep outside.

I have seen walking tours of Great Britain and Ireland. You walk along trails through the countryside, stopping in pubs for lunch and dinner, and spending the night in B&B's.

That is my kind of backpacking trip. Good food, good beer, a warm shower, and a comfortable bed. That would be awesome.

Ruh Roh Shaggy

I don't care for Scooby Doo. I'm not going to go on a rant or anything. I'm just going to say I don't like Scooby Doo.

Maybe I'm biased against Hanna Barbera.

How many times could they use the same background in one short?

The Sacrifices We Make for Our Children

The DVD Snow Buddies has been playing on a loop at our house lately. This tale, from the maker of Air Bud, tells the tale of a group of golden retriever puppies who stow away in a container of ice cream. That they don't freeze to death before being parachuted into a small Alaskan village is a minor miracle.

When they land on the ground, the puppies are taken in by a young boy who decides to use them to compete in a sled dog race. They win. The puppies go home to their families and everyone learns a valuable lesson - helping others is more important than winning.

The villain of the tale is a weaselly French-Canadian. Who could be a better villain than a French-Canadian. He's French and he's Canadian. Perfect.

The dogs all talk. And they all share the personalities of their owners. There's the girl dog, the athlete dog, the yoga dog, the muddy dog, and the hip-hop dog. What could be cuter?

Excuse me while I wipe the vomit from my lips.

Some kids movies are great. Every Pixar movie has been incredible (even The Incredibles). Mary Poppins has Dick Van Dyke with a corny cockney accent and Julie Andrews in all of her hotness. Beauty and the Beast has dancing furniture. The Little Mermaid has a gigantic purple monster.

Snow Buddies has talking puppies.

Abigail will get tired of the movie soon. I keep asking her if she wants to see Finding Nemo. Maybe in another week.

Badly?

I hate when a news reporter will say or write that a "badly decomposed" body was found. Badly is not the right word to describe the process of decomposition. The decomposition is progressing just fine, thank you. The body might be in the early stages of decomposition or it might be in an advanced state of decomposition.

But "badly"?

A mummified body is badly decomposed.

I Have a Confession

I like Bluegrass. It all started when O Brother, Where Art Thou? came out. I bought the soundtrack CD and have listened to it sporadically through the years. At work I've been listening to the Bluegrass channel on AOL Radio. I love the music and I can even sing along to a few songs.

Do I have to turn in my indie card?

Greetings From America

I have noticed on my Sitemeter that I have been getting readers from other countries. Let me be the first to say, "Welcome to America."

Many of my non-American readers probably harbor some misconceptions of Americans.

- Americans all wear cowboy hats.
- Americans chew gum.
- Americans drive big cars.
- Americans carry pearl-handled six-shooters strapped to our hips.
- Americans speak louder than anyone else.
- Americans speak only English.
- Americans think they do own the whole world.
- Americans don't care what happens in other countries.
- Americans are Budweiser swilling NASCAR fans.
- Americans eat cheeseburgers at every meal.

The Fine Print:

The author of the blog "Cast Iron Skillet," TimB, would like to apologize for the attitudes and actions expressed in the above list. While many of these attitudes and actions can be found in Americans, the author has found that Mexicans tend to wear cowboy hats, Canadians chew gum, Saudis drive large cars, Afghanis carry pearl-handled AK-47s, Germans are very loud, the English generally only speak English, and the Chinese own the whole world. The last three statements in the list are generally true of Americans except for the cheeseburgers. We don't eat them for every meal, only twice a day.

If we have bombed your country within the last 10 years, I apologize on behalf of all Americans. If George Bush has pressured your leader to participate in an ill conceived invasion of a sovereign country within the past seven years, I apologize. If you watch Hollywood movies while eating McDonald's food and drinking Coca-Cola, I apologize.

Peeved

If you're going to put your child in a car seat, at least take the time to strap them in properly. And while you're at it, make sure the car seat is securely attached. Your carelessness is going to give the firefighters and cops who come to rescue you and your family nightmares.

Just sayin'.

A Random Rant

If you are a music producer who wants to make a worship CD for children, use real live children. Don't warp adult voices into children's voices. I can tell and it's not cool. Set aside your desire to make everything musically perfect and give us real kids, singing kid's songs with real feeling. It doesn't have to be perfect. It's actually better when they aren't.

Thank you.

And Velveeta still blows.

A Correction

In my previous post "Mmmmm! V" I began by discussing my love for pancakes. I then changed tack and started discussing syrup.

For this, I apologize.

The post was not up to my usual standard of writing. I will endeavor to prevent posts of this nature in the future. Once again, my deepest regrets.

I do like pancakes though.

For the Record

In college, I made a speech advocating the legalization of marijuana. I do not believe marijuana should be legalized.

Four Fingers Pointed Back at Me

I struggle with something.

I am pretty jaded from my work. I can often look at someone and make judgements about them. The scales have been removed from my eyes. I can know certain things about people just by looking at their size, weight, hair, clothing, demeanor, and complexion.

But many times, this knowledge leads to an opinion. I become judgemental. I stop seeing a person and instead see a problem.

I need to stop being judgemental. I am no better than anyone.

School

Every year we have evaluations at work. There is a line that asks about your educational attainment and goals. Every year I wrote that I intended to earn a Master's degree, usually in a field with no relationship to my job. This year I decided to stop fooling myself.

I am never going to earn a Master's degree. I was fortunate to finish my Bachelor's. If it wasn't for my Mom and Tabitha pushing me I would still be about 12 units short of my degree. Me and school have always had an uneasy relationship.

There were too many distractions in college - UEFA Champions League Football, work, sleep, and Tabitha. I would take a class and then get distracted by some tangential topic covered in class. I would then fall behind while devouring everything I could find on that topic. While it satisfied my curiosity it did nothing for my grades.

It turns out that educational mediocrity has a long history in my family. I am somewhat unique in being a 3rd generation college graduate. However, Grandpa, Dad and I all struggled to complete our degrees. I struggled and I now have no delusions of ever continuing my "formal" education.

My educational goal is now: "to read everything I can on topics that I find interesting." I just need a bigger library.