Don't be a Meanie! Don't ban the Weenie!

Today, the Outdoor Circle in our fair city is calling for a ban on the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile saying its presence is a violation of the City's billboard advertising law. I got two words for you uptight tree hugging, granola grinding, Birkenstock wearing, raging aging hippies: BITE ME!

These are the same folks who mandated soda machines facing public areas to be "masked" so those nasty brand names would not be visible. I'm sure it cost businesses a chunk of change to retro-fit all their vending machines with generic facades, but hey, it's all about aesthetics.

Now I wasn't happy when the Wienermobile stood me up earlier this month. (Alright, I admit I got the dates wrong in my head, but that's beside the point.) But the one thing that struck me when I finally did see said Wienermobile was how small it was. I was expecting some mammoth, tank-sized wiener on wheels. What I saw was not much bigger than a cargo van or maybe a flat bed truck. It was definately not some environmentally offensive behemouth that some want you to believe.

But, Outdoor Circle-ites argue that the Wienermobile is a moving billboard. Well, I say those ginormous Polynesian Cultural Center tour buses are still-frame IMAXs on wheels. Not so, say the tree hugging ohana, the main purpose of those buses is transportation. Sure, they transport unsuspecting tourists to spend untold dollars at their final destination, but doing so in a huge full-color postcard with three foot tall letters spelling out the name of business is advertising, pure and simple. The granola gang argues that the Wienermobile's sole purpose is advertising. Not so fast my fur phobic friends. The Wienermobile transports Oscar Mayer representatives to their jobs so they can spread the gospel of processed meat at supermarkets in a neighborhood near you.

All this is just plain ridiculous. I am not advocating the proliferation of actual billboards nor do I think the Outdoor Circle is completely irrelevant. But I think people need to be more selective in picking their protests. If you want to get rid of ugly eyesores in our fair city, I say ban all political signage during election season. Just leave the rolling hot dog alone, please.

Quesy: An Ode To The Undetermined Stomach Virus (sung to the Patsy Cline tune "Crazy")

Quesy
This is an ode to my nausea
Quesy
This is my tummy ache blues

Hurling
Why do I keep on hurling?
Spinning
My head keeps on spinning too

Pregnant
Hell-to-the-No I'm not pregnant
Poison
I cannot prove that my food was no good

Queasy
I'm quesy and feeling so lousy
Quesy
I'm quesy just thinking of food

I'm quesy and trying to hold my head high when
I'm parked at the porcelin throne.

Cover up those tatts, baby!

I found out today that our employee policy manual is being updated. It will officially ban visible tattoos on staff. Since I am the only one with multiple, visible tattoos, I was notified in private before the updated manual goes public. (I guess I need to re-think inking "Regular" over my right boob and "Unleaded" over my left boob.)

My supervisor, bless her heart, approached the subject with great trepidation. (Perception: tattooed people are scary. Reality: I can be when provoked, she-lion that I am.) My boss broke the news to me after a glowing annual job performance review. Good timing on her part since I was in a very festive mood. After explaining that the policy manual "had not been updated in YEARS" and that "OTHER items needed updating as well", my boss explained the new rule. All visible tattoos must be covered up when employees are doing business outside of the office, such as field visits, chapter meetings, public lynchings, etc. The latter part was just my snarky inference.

"Employees" in the new rule I think means mostly me, but for litigious reasons, it cannot single me out. However, my sweet natured boss quickly conceded that I can have my tattoos visible when I am in the office. In other words, when I am safely tucked away in my office, located waaaaaay in the back of the building's second floor. This probably means with my door closed and blinds shut, too. Then if, and only if, I need to emerge from the confines my my office (potty break, beat some copies out of the Xerox machine, get water for my meds) I may consider a stylish sweater or jacket.

Quite honestly, I'm not upset about this new rule. (See, Dr. Devegvar! The increased dosage works!) I find it amusing that some people find body art, which I started collecting on my 30th birthday, so distasteful. About 15 years ago when I first started this job, I attended an industry workshop with tattoo in plain sight. One workshop participant actually wrote these words on the program evaluation:

"Tattoos should be hidden and not flaunted!"

Of course, this person did not leave his or her name on the evaluation. Tattooed people are very scary, after all.

The Going Green Blues

When I was a kid alpha amphibian Kermit the Frog lamented that, "it's tough being green..." Fast forward 30+ years and everyone is "going green".

I am not against saving the planet. After all, without Mother Earth we'd be homeless. (You don't see any Sunday Open House signs on the moon.) I dutifully bring my cloth shopping bags with me to the grocery store. I recycle my empty soda bottles. I even use all-natural, biodegradable pine kitty litter. What I find irritating is the proliferation of eco-jargon.

So many individuals and businesses claim to be green or are going green. Just what that means depends on what's being sold or what they want you to believe. Honestly, the last time I "went green" was after eating a bad shrimp quesedilla at a Mexican restaurant.

Sustainability is another eco-buzz word making the rounds. On a personal level, sustainability means staying awake past 9:00 p.m. I don't even understand what a carbon footprint is, but it you track one into my kitchen, I will be seeing red.

Yes, YOU can be a pundit!

A press release crossed my desk again and this one was not as annoying as the previous bunch. In fact, it made me think about what could be an exciting new career!

The press release announced an upcoming industry-specific governmental affairs conference in Washington D.C. And let's face it, if you're going to have an affair, Washington D.C. is a hot bed of possibilities. But I digress.

Actually, the list of conference speakers was impressive. ABC reporter Bob Woodruff will inspire everyone with his life changing experience in Iraq. And being critically injured by a road side is definatley life changing. Then there's good old NBC weather guru Al Roker whose session "Let Your Smile Be Your Umbrella" will be a one-way ticket to your happy place. A slate of politicians also promises plenty of hot air to warm the chilly break-out rooms at the Washington Convention Center.

What really caught my attention were the two speakers who were simply identified as "pundits". Not award-winning news anchors, Pulitzer caliber authors, corporate honchos, or lawmakers of any kind. They were simply called pundits.

I like that word— pundit— it rolls off the tongue like week-old pudding. I have decided that I would like to be a pundit when I grow up. My first question was: What exactly is a pundit?

I always associated the term pundit with those blow-hard political commentators who actually find bantering with Bill O'Reilly a heart pounding indoor sport. That kind of thrill ride is not high on my to-do list. Plus my pastor once said not to engage in arguments with the Devil.

When I looked up the meaning of pundit, it opened it up more than just political prognosticating. Now I never wanted to be a prognosticator. Too much pressure to be accountable —you could lose your street cred with just one poorly placed prognostication.

The dictionary says a pundit is a learned person, expert, or authority. A person who makes comments or judgments, esp. in an authoritative manner; critic or commentator. I could learn to be a learned person. Why at age 47, I actually learned how to use the postage meter machine thingy at work. Yes, you can teach an old dog...well you get the point. I do have a problem with authority sometimes, but I can overlook that in my quest for pundit-dom. I found that putting my fingers in my ears and saying, "LALALALALALALALALALA!" can sometimes make the authority problem go away. I know I can be very judgemental, in a critical manner so that shouldn't be a problem.

So pundit status is achievable for a lowly ubermom like me. I just need to find a topic of expertise that I can claim as my own. Or better yet, I can make something up ! If Rush Limbaugh can do it, then gosh darn it, so can I!

Ho! Ho! Ho!...who you calling a Ho?

In what could be the season's best ironies, one the oldest and most venerated churches in our fair city has put a modern twist in the sharing of their Nativity Scene. Gone are the days when the Nativity is solemnly presented during Christmas Eve worship. With all the holiday hustle of gift shopping, fruit cake baking, and out of town guest welcoming, who really has the time? Welcome to the Fast Food Nation - Christmas Style.

Being a Jesus loving Christian, I have no qualms about sharing the good news of our Savior's birth. I just think having people queue up to the manger in their sedans and SUVs a bit, well, odd. This church posted huge signs in front of their chapel inviting everyone to enjoy their Drive Thru Nativity Scene. Yes, you can witness a reenactment of the birth of our Savior without ever leaving your vehicle. See Christian-dom's "first family" without even shifting out of first gear. And would you like an order of fries with your Messiah?

I'm no Scrooge, but I admit my cynicism is working up a good head of steam. Maybe it's because stores have been touting holiday gift items at THE BEST PRICES EVER since late August. Can we get back to the real reason we celebrate Christmas? Thank you, Lord Jesus!

Mental block

I am having mental constipation. Maybe sticking a pen on my forehead will help. Or not.