If It Ain't Broke, Change It Slightly....

So I’m broadcasting live and direct via my brand new computer, and let me tell you folks, this thing is a behemoth!  I went out and got myself an early Christmas present, and why not, I work hard.  Well, not really, but I work lots, and that’s hard enough.  I won’t get too much into what it is, because frankly I have no idea, what I will do is give you the link, and if your inclined you can check it out yourself, although I doubt you will, because I wouldn’t, but here it is anyway (mines upgraded to 2TB and Blu Ray)  (newtoyhere)  .....  More on why I did that later…

Now let’s get on with the program shall we?  The producers of theBusDrivachronicles have come up with a new format for me to dandy around, and albeit their good ideas are few and far between, I don’t actually mind this one too much.   Basically they want me to do things like “week in review”, amongst other ideas, in more of a “musings” type arrangement.  Similar to what you might find on the last page of the sports section, or if you used to read “slam” magazine, in their “trash talk” section.  Simply put, its 20 or so ideas, in rapid succession separated by some of these things (…………). It’s not a bad plan, and while I usually throw half their ideas out the window before they are even done explaining them to me, this one I may be able to accommodate them with.  They do after all write the cheque's, so appease if you may, I always say. They also want me to do some reviews on food, restaurants, movies and the like.  And the executive producer, well, he’s one of these computer tech guys, and he demands more links.  He’s of the thinking that the WWW must ever expand, and it can only do such if the contributors to the web, such as me, add links whenever the opportunity presents itself.  Normally when someone demands anything of me, its fight time, but the last time I took a massive stand against him, he changed my password, and wouldn’t give it back  to me until I apologized.  You know how much I love my blog, and to go without it, and without all of you, well, that was just not fun at all, even if it was only for a day and a half.  Apologizing was a very, very humbling experience I must say, and I don’t want to have to do it again.  So I’ll give it a try, but I promise you, like I told him, I will not saturate this blog with anything I wouldn’t myself have any interest in. 

Before we do any of that though, something has to be said about last week’s post.  For the first time since this blog has been up, over 100 people tuned in to have a read on the first day.  That’s a number I couldn’t even fathom when all this started out.  When I reached 60-70 readers I thought that was the ceiling, but clearly that’s not the case.  I know I had some help too, so for everyone out there that retweeted, shared my link or posted their own link on their Facebook page, or anyone that just grabbed someone on the street and told them old school social networking style where to find my thoughts, thank you.  The levels of my appreciation are unexplainable, and please, continue to spread the gospel.  In exchange I will continue to provide you with a complete reading experience, that is both mentally stimulating, and emotionally moving, while at the same time eccentric, different, cutting edge and maybe, if I can squeak it out, a little bit funny at times.  Continue the promotion people. I’m international, thanks to you.  I’m known, and getting more and more known by the day, because of you.  And this blog, nor the people’s blogger, wouldn’t be anything without all of you.  One more time, thank you, and now let’s try this musings format thing out, and see how it goes…..

Musings........................

I don’t like runny noses, so by association I’m not enjoying this late night cold weather.  The days have been absolutely beautiful but the nights are downright freezing, and I’m not a fan at all...............
Remember that Asian girl I crushed that steak with before I went to Mexico?  Well, I got the “no chemistry” talk the other day.  I’m not buying it personally.  If there is one thing I got and can make, its chemistry.  But it’s all good, she was a sweetheart for using that instead of saying “listen, slightly overweight, average looking at best white guys aren’t my thing, soooooo see ya around?”  I ain’t mad at her though…….. 
Oh, and the D.A. by way of the Bay?  Well, she’s down to one word answers, if she even responds to messages at all.  But that’s cool too, she’s busy people, what with a full-fledged important career and all. And let’s face it, although ours would be a story that movies are made of (no Kevin James would not play me, I’d push for Tom Cruise), it would also require a ton of work.  Shame though, I really would have loved National League baseball, and I’m growing somewhat tired of snow.  The precipitation, not the artist……….  
New goals at the gym, and they are pretty basic.  Get down under 210 by January 1^st, (currently 222, WAS 256 first week of May) and then look like Marky Mark by the middle of February.  (Marky Mark circa'91) Complete with throwback White Sox hat…….. 
That reminds me, I got to re-up my supply of Barry Bonds, better do that now before I forget, BRB.  Ok, good, that’s done and on the way………….
This is actually pretty fun, we may keep this format……….
The NBA is back, although I’m having a hard time figuring out who cracked, they are keeping that pretty hush hush.  I wonder if my blog had anything to with it?    Probably………. 
Opening day will be Christmas day, and what a lineup of games.  Not really sure that it’s worth missing out on double time and a half, so I’ll be at work. But still, sometimes I wish I had a family to ignore while I put my feet up and enjoy a triple header on a holiday.  Maybe one day…..…  
Jay and Kanye killed it.  I wasn’t there but it’s all I’ve heard about all week.   What impressed me the most?  No opening act.  That speaks volumes about their catalogue……….
You have got to get one of these computers by the way.  It’s powerful enough, that if I wanted to I could probably blow Switzerland right off the map from my bedroom, although I’m probably just going to use it for YouTube and porn.  Shit, mom, skip that part if your reading this…………. 
My two favorite ladies, Rihanna and Avena Lee, and I can’t even tell you how good they look on this screen………….  
I’m enjoying this shit, hope you are too…….. 
Roger Goodell has really fucked up the NFL, it’s not even the same game anymore.  It’s officiated like an elementary school football game now.  FLAG, FLAG, FLAG. Let these dudes hit already, it’s why we watch damn it.  Well, that and the cheerleaders………. 
Do yourself a favor, go to Boston Pizza, and get yourself a brute, add the Bolognese.  You can thank me later……..
Why did Ryan Reynolds get to play two comic book characters? I know one was DC and the other was Marvel, so they would never cross paths anyway, even if Dead Pool didn’t die, but still…………. When was the last time you actually sat down and listened to Journey’s “don’t stop believing”?  That’s one well written eff’in song…………. 
I couldn’t do it.  I just couldn’t.  I couldn’t switch from Blackberry to IPhone.  But trust me on something; the new bold 9900 is THE shit.  Not sure if it’s good enough to save RIM, but it’s good enough to get me through until the IPhone 5 drops, maybe I’ll sell out then…….  
J Cole, J Cole, J Cole, J Cole…………….

Wow, you know what? That was a blast.  That format is definitely sticking around.  I’ll sandwich it in between the deep posts, and the rants, but we are keeping it for sure.  Let me know what you thought. busdriva23@slamit.ca   Oh, and another idea the producers had (yeah, it was a long meeting, my OCD was gooooing craaaaazy), they want me to read and maybe promote other blogs out there.  So if you have someone whom you follow, and you think they may be of interest to me, email me their link, and maybe I can send them some “blog love”.  I doubt they have the following I have, so for sure they will appreciate it.  Keep the feedback coming, both good and bad, email me with anything, I’m always looking for topics to spit about, and please and thank you once again, for all the retweets, Facebook shares and word of mouth promoting you guys are doing.  Keep up the good work, I’ll be back next week with a heavy hitter for you, it’s almost done, and yeah, it’s that good.  Now go and hit that share button already………

This Is What Annoys Me.......Part 2

Page views, comments and feedback don’t lie.  “This is what annoys me” may be in fact one of the best written, well received and thoroughly discussed blogs posted in the entire history of the internet.  Every person I discuss my blog with defaults to that entry as their favorite, and the non-original page views, which measures repeated reading from the same person, shows it as the most revisited post I’ve offered.  The cries, the requests, the suggestions abound.  I never thought I’d be the type of author to do sequels, but as the people’s blogger, I write for you, not for me.  And if you want a part 2, it would not only be my pleasure, but my duty in fact, to provide my followers with exactly what they want, what they need, and what they desire.  You know the drill, if you have done, or do any of these things, then yes, absolutely, I’m talking about you.  Knock it off, your irritating the dog shit out of me!!

Talking to me

Let’s be clear, I enjoy a good amount of back and forth as much as the next guy.  And there are in fact a handful of people that actually have something to say.  They are few and far between mind you, but they do exist. For clarity though, this is the type of talking I’m referencing.

-If you know the answer to the question your about to ask me, then stop.  Stop right now.  I’m busy.  I know it doesn’t look like I am, but I am.  I’m probably doing 13 or 14 things right now that I’m supposed to be doing, and most assuredly at least 4 or 5 things that I’m not supposed to be doing.  Clearly my hands are full.  If you don’t need help, don’t pretend to need help.  And kindly don’t waste my time, our precious air and your last remaining strand of self-awareness on being redundant.

-I don’t want to hear your jokes, or your anecdotes or your limericks.  I’m funny, you’re not.  I drive the bus, you ride the bus.  I’m a solid contributing member to society and the community, you’re you.  Let us all just play our roles here. 

-That long winded story about your brother, I’m sorry to hear it.  No, like I’m really sorry I had to hear it.  You are going to be in my life for about 9 minutes, why do you feel the need to tell me something important about your sister, cousin or dad?  Do you really just need someone to talk to?  I’m not the guy, for two reasons, one, remember the first point up there?  I’m busy dumb ass.  And two, I just don’t care.  You have to talk, go to a bar, or get a haircut, talk there.  That’s what they are there for.  Now go sit down, I’m driving a bus and planning my next blog here.

-Do not, for any reason what so ever, ever in your right mind, ever tell me how to do my job.  In the same respect, I will never even once come into Wendy’s and tell you how to work the deep fryer.  If I did something, maybe I swerved, maybe I stopped short, or anything else for that matter that you deemed reckless, it probably wasn’t reckless, it was probably evasive, and there’s a good chance I avoided a much bigger problem than you having to do a little two step.  If I’m driving a little fast or way too slow, I’m doing it for a reason, and no, to be honest, you don’t need to know that reason.  I drive, you ride, remember? 

Pay your fare, in full, if you please.

Why is it assumed that because you’re short its ok?  Here’s what I want you to do tomorrow.  Walk into Tim Horton’s and order a large coffee.  When the employee brings it to you and says, that will be $1.65, put .85 cents on the counter and say, “that’s all I have”.  The employee will reply with a cheerful, “oh, ok than” and take the coffee back and walk away from you.  There’s no room for debate, or discussion.  No funds, no coffee. End of story.  Yet I’d say, and this is conservatively, that 70% of the people that get on the bus don’t have full fare.  A dollar, a dollar 35, 14 cents, whatever the case may be, sometimes they will say, “this is all I have” as they drop it in.  Sometimes they won’t say anything and just drop it in.  Either circumstance the implication being, that’s its fine, no problem.  How about this, if you don’t have the money, you stay your ass home, or you walk?  Did that ever pop into anyone’s mind?  Where does the audacity come from?  This grand illusion that price is negotiable, or fare is for everyone except themselves.  Oh, and your excuse for not having money, well, it’s neither original, nor plausible.  And I don’t care to hear it.  Didn’t you read earlier, I’m busy.  pay your fare, move to the back,sit down and be quiet, these blogs don’t write themselves you know.

Or don’t pay your fare, just be quick about it

Truth be told, I don’t care.  You not paying your fare is actually a form of theft.  Taking a goods or service and not trading with equal value.  I don’t have time to police, nor do I have inclination to argue with a fool.  What you’re doing is not right, but that’s between you and whatever God you pray too.  You can deal with him when the time comes.  But whatever you do decide to do, do it expeditiously please.  Meaning pay your fare, don’t pay your fare, move to the back, sit down and be quiet.  That’s about as simple as it gets.

Don’t eat your “delicacies” on my bus

I know your short on time and trying to do nothing more than multi task, but come on, do you not have any respect for anyone around you?  Your sitting there gnawing away on your whopper combo, mouth wide open with ketchup and mayo all over your shirt, at least I hope that’s mayo, all the while everyone around you gets to both watch and listen to you chew.  Absolutely disgusting. And more importantly it’s just down right bad home training.  If there was a couch on the bus you’d probably be jumping up and down on it with your damn shoes on too, right?  And the whopper combo’s, big macs and hot dogs aren’t even the worst of it.  I can at least tolerate that, even if it’s because I don’t really feel like dealing with it.  The “foreign” meals are the most horrendous.  Anything with words like curry, goat or cow tongue should be left eaten at home or the whole in the wall they were bought from.  Why? Because point blank, if it smells like ass or armpit there is no way you can come close to convincing me that it tastes good. My bus doesn’t need to smell like a high school cafeteria in Zimbabwe.  The reality of it is, it smells bad enough to begin with, so leave it at home, you’re making me nauseous up here.  And seriously, I know your primitive and all, but if you have to eat on the bus, take your garbage with you when you leave.  Not for me, because in all reality I have no reason to venture to the back of the bus, so it’s not really my problem, but do it for the other people that use the bus.  If they wanted to wade through your trash they would go to the park you live in and do it there. 

Cut your finger nails at home

This requires absolutely no further explanation.....  Bunch of savages…….

Pay attention

You’re out in the real world.  You are on your way to work, a buddy’s house, the unemployment office, where ever it is your going.  Have a look out the window.  Know where you are.  Simple stuff here, right?  How is it that about 4 or 5 times a night someone misses their stop? That shit is just unbelievable.  If people paid attention to their surroundings then the term “the dumb get dumber” would have never been invented.  And I don’t care if the stop calling thing isn’t working, because the reality of it is, you’re neither hearing, nor visually impaired, so it’s not for you anyway.  I could understand if the bus was covered in a giant tarp, and the only person that could see out of it was me, AND the stop calling apparatus wasn’t working, but you’d still be considered a moron for not being proactive instead of reactive.  Another thing, listen for announcement’s, they are for you, not for me.  When I make an announcement that the bus is short turning and you miss it, because your screwing with your phone, or listening to your music, I’m not going to remind you when I’m about to make the turn.  I’m just going to make the turn and head back from whence I came, and guess what, now you’re coming with me.  I say things like short turning next stop, please move back, or I don’t really care, once.  I’m not in the habit of repeating myself to educate others.  It takes too much energy to be honest.  Next thing you’re going to want me do is find the village that’s missing their idiot so you can get back home.  Well I’m sorry, in case you haven’t been following along, I am way too busy for that shit, I’m driving, doing some other things, some of which I should be, some that I shouldn't be, and most importantly I’m working on a blog up here people!!!!

Back Before You Had A Chance To Miss Me

I’m relaxed, I’m refocused, I’m reenergized, and you have really got to see this tan!  What a week.  Words can describe neither how bad I needed to get away, nor how good it felt to be away.  I would love to fill this post with tales of erotic debauchery for you to enjoy, but unfortunately I don’t have stories like that for you today.  This vacation was both about rediscovering me, soul searching if you will, and getting away from all that bothered me.  And that’s exactly what I did.  Highlights included winning yet another beer chugging contest, it’s been awhile since I won one of those. And I don’t even really drink anymore, but what is it they say?  “Kings stay kings” and my title was defended internationally this time. I made you proud once again Toronto, your welcome for my die hard and never ending representation. I also came close to finally spending a night in a Mexican jail, but 42 dollars kept me from knocking that off the bucket list.  What bullshit too, who really considers public urination a crime?  That night I was offered coke by 12 cab drivers, at least 4 bartenders, and even a janitor, then was approached by 4 or 5 Mexican street hookers on the very strip I relieved myself on, and I’m supposed to believe that that’s the letter of the law they are choosing to enforce?  I called the bluff and for the record was fully prepared to go and get my “OZ” on, but my travel companion wanted to go back to the hotel and paid the cops their hush money.  I didn’t hear the end of it until I gave him the money back the next day though.  Actually I haven’t really heard the end of it yet, your welcome Facebook, we all know I’m always looking to provide some fodder for you all.  I spent a lot of time by the pool and around the resort, drank a lot of rum and pineapple, ate like a king, and generally just got my “put the feet up” on.  I even participated in a lot of activities, and as my mom so sincerely pointed out, actually smiled a few times.  Looks like yours truly had one hell of a week.  I also did what I tend to do best.  I tracked down some great people and made some amazing new friends.  And that’s what I’m going to concentrate on here.  Now, it would be impossible for me to talk about everyone I met, so if you’re reading this, which I highly doubt, because no one reads this, then don’t be upset.  You were probably immortalized in pictures, and as an ex or two can contest, I never forget a thing.  Besides, if not making my blog is the worst thing that happens to you, hell, lets switch, and I want your problems for a day. 

My English Counterpart

When I first met this guy, he was terribly close to getting a good old fashioned BusDriva beating that is usually reserved for people who insist on kissing their teeth repeatedly in my face.  He was loud, belligerent and outspoken, which clearly I can’t stand.         Pause.       Anyway, a funny thing happened that night out, he yawned in a jam packed club, and I slapped him across the face for it.  Then I poured shots down his throat and voila, we became sidekicks for the rest of his vacation.  He’s good people, or as he would say, “dog bullocks”, whatever the hell that means.  We even had a couple of serious chats too, as he’s not completely sure where he’s at versus where he should be at this point in his life.  Now I’m not saying I’m the one anyone should talk with when in that situation, but I listened, made a couple of jokes, and it was all good.  So good in fact that he expects me at some point in the near future to, as they say, “cross the drink” to England for a visit.  I highly doubt it though, I’ve seen “the Perfect Storm” and that Atlantic Ocean is one kick ass pond.  I doubt I will ever trust anything to get me all the way over that thing, and if Mark Wahlberg couldn’t swim out of it, I’d be a dead man.  We shall see

The Newly Weds From Philly

What a great couple this was.  It was your not so typical situation, when high school sweethearts get married ten years deep in their relationship.  You really don’t hear shit like that anymore, and it is sort of refreshing.  The common denominator here was no surprise, baseball, or more importantly Roy Halladay.  And anyone who knows the BusDriva knows that if you want to talk baseball and know what you’re talking about, than if I had one you would be catapulted to the top of my Christmas card list.  We spent a moderate amount of time together and had some laughs.  So many laughs in fact that the new Mrs. invited me repeatedly to come down to Philadelphia for a baseball game, and so she could introduce me to her sister.  That’s a long drive, but it sure would be nice to see “The Doc” live on the mound again.  Maybe, we shall see.

The Trio From Kentucky

Now here are a collection of late 30’s (wink wink) ladies who just came to relax and let loose.  Fun bunch too.  I’m not really sure why but I constantly kept saying they were from Ohio.  Are the two even close?  Hang on I’m going to check right now, BRB.    Thought so, they are right next to each other, honest mistake, I’m a Canadian, good enough.  Anyway, these girls were just some laid back, Daisy Duke type of gals, who were really a pleasure to be around. They didn’t bat an eye at the innuendo laced humour, had no problem throwing back a shot or 4, and I don’t think a minute went by that all three weren’t smiling about as big of a smile as I’ve ever seen in my life.  It was a good time when they were around.  We had such a good time in fact, that I was told that if I ever had business to take care of out in the Kentucky area (?) that we would all get together for dinner.  I’m almost positive I will never have business in the Kentucky area, but still it was genuine, and who knows, we shall see.

And finally

The D.A. From San Francisco

I had the opportunity to spend an afternoon with this young woman by the pool, and at first I thought she was just another pretty face.  I mean don’t get me wrong, really nice body, great eyes, great smile, was laid back, and fun, truth be told, much more than a pretty face for sure, but what I soon realized I could not have been prepared for.  The next day we accompanied each other to breakfast, being that her travel partner was too hung over to get up, and my travel partner only ate breakfast because I woke him up and made him.  Over breakfast I was absolutely floored with what I witnessed.  Not only is she a lawyer, which means she has a relatively high level of intelligence, but she could hold and carry a conversation to boot. She didn’t talk much but said a lot.  She paused when I finished a sentence before she started hers.  She asked questions, and listened to the answer.  Was well spoken sincere and genuine, and all in all an absolute pleasure to be with.  After breakfast I walked her back to her room, so she could check on her roommate, thats when she told me she had a boyfriend back home, and felt bad.  I don’t really know if I’m buying that though.  I mean maybe she does, which is fine, but in my evaluation of the situation, I don’t believe it, I think she just didn’t want to become another Cancun statistic, and that’s something I completely understand, and actually really respect.  So we can go ahead and tack ethics on to the growing list of pros.  And to think, I had to travel all the way to Cancun of all places to find a woman with morals.  Or hell maybe she does have a boyfriend, and I’m just doing what I do best and over dissect things a little too much.  Whatever the case may be, we spent a fair amount of time together the rest of the week, and the more time we spent, the more I realized, the bar by which I evaluate woman has been dramatically raised.  Here is an independent, intelligent beautiful woman, who is more happy laying by a pool reading a book than she could ever be knocking back shots, who dresses well, always looks great and from what I experienced always has something to say.  She can take a joke, really brings something to the table conversation wise, and lights up everything with a smile that belongs on T.V.  If she was a baseball player, she would be referred to as a five tool athlete.  If she was a hip hop song she would be Common Sense’s “I Used to Love H.E.R.” and if she was a bus driver, well, then, she would be me.  But there are two important issues in play here.  1) San Francisco and Toronto were not placed very close together when they drew up the North American map, and 2) District attorneys and bus drivers don’t historically have a track record of romantic involvement.  We said we would keep in touch but everyone knows how that usually ends up, and just because in all probability our paths won’t ever cross again, that doesn’t mean I won’t hope that one day they do.  And in the inevitable event that they don’t, well, hey, such is the Tao of the BusDriva.  I’m definitely better off for knowing her, that’s for sure, and right now, that’s all that counts, because quite honestly, right now that’s all I have.

You know, a lot of people don’t seem to understand one very important thing in life.  Your car, your house and your bank account really don’t mean a whole lot to anyone when it’s all said and done.  Where you go, where you’ve been and what you’ve seen makes for a good photo album, but really nothing more.  Even accomplishments and achievements are no more than place holders until someone comes along and accomplishes or achieves more.  It’s the lives you touch, and how long you live on in the memories of other people that really rate you as an individual.  Are you someone people forget a few minutes after you leave the room?  Or are you someone people think about and remember and maybe smile or chuckle at something you did or said long after you’ve left?  That’s impact.  That’s what counts, and that’s all that matters.  That’s what I remembered about myself on this vacation.  I’m an impact player, and as much as some people don’t want to, or just flat out can’t admit it, you really are a lot better off with me, than without me. Not only am I the peoples blogger to you, all 8 of my readers, but ask an outspoken window cleaner from England, or three young mature woman from Ohio, or Kentucky or where ever the hell they were from, or a couple of newlyweds down in Philly.  5 or 6 months from now, if they remember me, I did my job, and it’s a job I take seriously, always have and always will.  Just do me a favour though, don’t ask the D.A. in San Francisco, I could have been way off, she may actually have a boyfriend, hell, they may even live together, and he could very well be within hearing range. 

Oh, and by the way, you really, really have got to see this tan………    

"Occupy Reality"

Well, it’s been a busy 8 or 9 days for the peoples’ blogger.  What with making a last ditch effort at reaching my 6 month goal at the gym (which for the record I fell a “you know what hair” short of), helping my Mom scratch a few things off a to do list (again, fell a tad bit short there too), penning a bio for a buddy for a job opportunity overseas (he didn’t really like it too much), and enjoying a steak with one of the most beautiful sets of eyes I’ve ever seen (still haven’t heard back from her though), never mind a busy week, it’s been a pretty shitty week apparently…lol.  Sadly I haven’t had very much time to author an entry, and trust me, I’m just as unhappy about it as all 6 of you readers are. And it doesn’t end there either.  Today and tomorrow I’m going to be slightly tied up getting a few affairs in order, as I have a ridiculously early flight to catch Tuesday morning.  A friend and I are taking a much, MUCH, needed vacation to Mexico, and it could not have come any sooner.  It’s been a hectic/menace of a/hard working year for me, and it’s time to get away.  No work, no gym, no drama, no headaches.  Throw these pale feet in a set of sandals, get an umbrella ella ella eh eh eh drink in my hand, regroup refocus and recharge.  I still have a week off when I return, and hopefully that week will be spent catching up with some people I haven’t caught up with in a while, maybe relax a bit more, chip away at the last couple of things on Moms to do list, and hell, I’m in a dreaming mood, maybe date number 2 with the “eyes to end all eyes”…….    Or maybe I’ll just get reacquainted with the old PlayStation for the entire week.  Whatever the case may be, we will cross that bridge when we get there.  But I do feel as though I owe you something to quench your reading thirst.  For the last few weeks or so, I’ve been asked to speak about the “Occupy Toronto Movement” repeatedly.  And I’ve tried to.  I’ve written a couple of things here and there about it, but truth be told, I’m not the one to handle this topic.  It’s no secret that I’m somewhat outspoken, belligerent and have even been referred to as pretentious once before, although I can’t by any stretch of the imagination figure that one out.  My views on these lazy, want for everything but don’t want to earn anything, self-absorbed, people owe them the world, crybabies simply can’t be expressed in the 5 or 10 minutes that you have put aside to hear what I have to say.  There are just way too many issues, way too many problems with their strategy, hell, their execution, or lack thereof would be an extendo blog in its own.  Not to mention the simple fact that I am of the highest ranking “have nots” society has to offer, yet I don’t feel a burning desire to cry about it, disrupt society, and waste the same god damn tax dollars they are crying could be better disbursed (fucking hypocrites).  I believe in going to work every day, saving for what you want, more or less (thank you best buy credit card), and most importantly living within your means.  I’d like the silver spoon as much as the next guy, but that’s not the hand I was dealt.  Get over it and go be the best you can be at your blue collar job, ability and potential all be damned.  Now, the other day, as I do every day with my morning coffee,  I was scouring the internet looking for fascinating reads, educational and thought provoking articles, and of course somehow previously not viewed vintage 80’s porn, when I came across an article that discussed the “Occupy” movement on wall street.  I was going to use this article as a basis for research for my own blog, but truth be told, it was so well done and said, that in uncharacteristic blog fashion I’m just going to give it to you as is, through this authors words.  I’m secure enough to do that, and although I would have laced it with a few poignant profanities, and intricate metaphors, she spoke her mind in her words, and said exactly what I was thinking.  While she still only scrapped the surface of the problem, her points were well made, valid and I appreciated them, as I’m sure you will too.  I’ll be back in a couple of weeks, with a tan, a couple of stories, and hopefully another date (although it’s not looking good thus far), as well as a special surprise for you.  I like dramatics too much too divulge what exactly I’ve got in the works, so I’ll just say this, I never thought I’d be a sequels writer, but when the people ask for something, the peoples’ blogger can do nothing else but deliver.  Enjoy the read everyone and I’ll be back soon enough.

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 Call it an occupational hazard, but I can’t look at the Occupy Wall Street protesters without thinking, “Who parented these people?”

As a culture columnist, I’ve commented on the social and political ramifications of the “movement” – now known as “OWS” – whose fairyland agenda can be summarized by one of their placards: “Everything for everybody.” Thanks to their pipe-dream platform, it’s clear there are people with serious designs on “transformational” change in America who are using the protesters like bedsprings in a brothel. Yet it’s not my role as a commentator that prompts my parenting question, but rather the fact that I’m the mother of four teens and young adults. There are some crucial life lessons that the protesters’ moms clearly have not passed along.  Here, then, are five things the OWS protesters’ mothers should have taught their children but obviously didn’t, so I will:

• Life isn’t fair. The concept of justice – that everyone should be treated fairly – is a worthy and worthwhile moral imperative on which our nation was founded. But justice and economic equality are not the same. Or, as Mick Jagger said, “You can’t always get what you want.”
No matter how you try to “level the playing field,” some people have better luck, skills, talents or connections that land them in better places. Some seem to have all the advantages in life but squander them, others play the modest hand they’re dealt and make up the difference in hard work and perseverance, and some find jobs on Wall Street and eventually buy houses in the Hamptons. Is it fair? Stupid question.

• Nothing is “free.” Protesting with signs that seek “free” college degrees and “free” health care make you look like idiots, because colleges and hospitals don’t operate on rainbows and sunshine. There is no magic money machine to tap for your meandering educational careers and “slow paths” to adulthood, and the 53 percent of taxpaying Americans owe you neither a degree nor an annual physical.

While I’m pointing out this obvious fact, here are a few other things that are not free: overtime for police officers and municipal workers, trash hauling, repairs to fixtures and property, condoms, Band-Aids and the food that inexplicably appears on the tables in your makeshift protest kitchens. Real people with real dollars are underwriting your civic temper tantrum.

• Your word is your bond. When you demonstrate to eliminate student loan debt, you are advocating precisely the lack of integrity you decry in others. Loans are made based on solemn promises to repay them. No one forces you to borrow money; you are free to choose educational pursuits that don’t require loans, or to seek technical or vocational training that allows you to support yourself and your ongoing educational goals. Also, for the record, being a college student is not a state of victimization. It’s a privilege that billions of young people around the globe would die for – literally.

• A protest is not a party. On Saturday in New York, while making a mad dash from my cab to the door of my hotel to avoid you, I saw what isn’t evident in the newsreel footage of your demonstrations: Most of you are doing this only for attention and fun. Serious people in a sober pursuit of social and political change don’t dance jigs down Sixth Avenue like attendees of a Renaissance festival. You look foolish, you smell gross, you are clearly high and you don’t seem to realize that all around you are people who deem you irrelevant.

• There are reasons you haven’t found jobs. The truth? Your tattooed necks, gauged ears, facial piercings and dirty dreadlocks are off-putting. Nonconformity for the sake of nonconformity isn’t a virtue. Occupy reality: Only 4 percent of college graduates are out of work. If you are among that 4 percent, find a mirror and face the problem. It’s not them. It’s you.

                      Credit to the author:  Posted By Marybeth Hicks on October 19, 2011