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Friday, January 19, 2018

Super Bowl Sunday Should be on a Saturday

Super Bowl Sunday Should be on a Saturday
A cranky opinion for
The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with little knowledge on the topic opined.  Opposing opinions are welcome, but they are wrong.  As always, please, no name calling…that means you, you big stupid head!

This re-run is from January 2016 with an added solution.*

I have lots of complaints about the Super Bowl.  There are too many commercials. Halftime is too long and should just be marching bands, not superstars and pyrotechnics.  I hate the Super Bowl parties that have too many people who are not football fans and only get excited about the commercials.

The solution to my hating the party is simple.  I do not have to attend any Super Bowl party.

I can accept the commercials and the God awful halftime.  They have to offer something to all the people who hate football but love the party.  TV and the NFL also want to make as much money as possible out of this great event; fair enough. 

What can be changed without any loss of revenue is the time and the day of Super Bowl Sunday.

Super Bowl Sunday should be held on Saturday.  There is no College football competition, why can’t we play the game on Saturday.  Unless the day after Super Bowl is declared a national holiday it will always be the least productive work day of the year.  Workers are blurry eyed on the day after Super Bowl because of the Sunday Super Bowl party and the 7:00 pm kickoff.

Boozing and partying should be on a Saturday to give everyone a chance to recuperate before going to work.

Next is the time of the game.  Kickoff is almost 4:00 pm  on the west coast, 7:00 in the east.  The game does not end until after 11:00 eastern standard time.  This is past many people’s normal time to hit the sack and makes the Monday work day even worse.  Young children in particular cannot take this late kickoff time.  Seven and eight year olds who have been watching and rooting for their team all year long are unable to stay awake for the grand finale.

I know there are those who are saying Sunday at 7:00 – 11:00 EST is prime time for TV where they get the greatest revenue.  I say bull dingy!  This is the Super Bowl, people will set their alarm and get up at 4:00 in the morning to watch the game if they had to, and advertisers will pay anything regardless of the time or day for an audience that is guaranteed, and 50% of which only want to watch their commercials.

So dammit, let’s schedule the Super Bowl kickoff for 1:00 est on the first Saturday in February.  I know; that makes it 10:00 on the west coast. So what?  I think it would be a rip to get up early on a Saturday to go to a Super Bowl party.  The food would just change to a breakfast format, and drink would be more Mimosas and Bloody Marys.  Bacon and booze instead of beer and chips…I could adjust.

That’s it, my Super Bowl opinion.  Please, powers that be, next year schedule Super Bowl Sunday on Saturday…at 1:00 est.

Meanwhile this year I will be home alone in my basement watching the game.  Mrs. C will be watching “Sex and the City” re-runs and all will be well in Crankyville.  I can sleep in on Monday.

The following was the opinion of a cranky old man and not necessarily that of management…Mrs. Cranky.

*Added solution :
This country has two traditions that we can't let go of...daylight savings time and Super Bowl Sunday.  I hate daylight savings, but people need it as a reminder to change the batteries in their smoke alarms so this is my suggestion:
Every first Saturday in February at 3:00 EST move the clocks up 24 hours; play the Super Bowl and when it is over, move all clocks back 24 hours.  People can change their batteries on Super Bowl Sunday Savings Time, and Super Bowl Sunday can be played on's just that easy folks!

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Preparing for the furnace

Preparing for the furnace

The HVAC people are coming tomorrow.  There is not a whole lot of room in the furnace area to work as we have a lot of stuff stored there.  It would take me about 5 minutes to move the stuff out and away.

Yesterday afternoon:
“You need to move all that stuff from the furnace area.”

“No big deal, I will do it tomorrow…will take 5 minutes.”

“Don’t throw anything away.”

“I know better.”  (Most of the stuff is worthless, some might call it shit.)

“Even the empty boxes.”

“No worries, can’t have enough useless empty boxes.”


Later at night, right as I was falling asleep.

“You should probably move your Total Gym, they will need to move stuff by that.”

“OK, I can move it two feet or into your office, either way will take less than 30 seconds.”

The next morning.

“I’m going to the basement to practice guitar, but first I’ll move all that stuff your so friggin worried about.”

“OK, don’t forget your phone.”


When I went to the basement I found that she had already moved everything out of the furnace area.  The only thing not moved was the Total Gym gizmo.  I immediately called her.

“You are a piece of work.  When did you move everything?”

“Last night before I came upstairs after ‘Jeopardy’ “


Two minutes later I received a text.

“Why do you think I asked if you had your phone?”

Wednesday, January 17, 2018


This fall we had someone checkout our heating system.  The technician knows Mrs. C from years of her dealing off and on with the same company, a company she trusts and also where her cousin is employed.  The system checked out ok, but we were told that the furnace was about 5 years past its “Best Used by Date.” 
A new system would be pretty expensive.
We decided we would wait one more heating season.
This Winter has been damn cold, tough on a system 5 years past it’s “Best Used by Date.”
The other day we awoke to a very cold town house.  We called in the problem and the same technician showed up that afternoon.   Apparently, some part overheated due to age and working hard in the last cold snap.  After it cooled off, the system was working again, but this was a wake-up call.  Five years past the “Best Used by Date” is too long.
We saw a salesman from the same company the next day.  He recommended a system and also recommended upgrading our air conditioner as it was also five years past it’s “Best Used by Date” and there was a combined system sale offered for the next month.
This new system would be damn expensive.
He offered a one-year interest free payment plan.  I liked the guy, he was left-handed, played guitar and was from North Carolina…nuff said.
So next week we will be having a new HVAC system installed.  It ain’t cheap.  Now I don’t mind tightening the belt for something that is needed (I’m lying, I mind a lot, but what are you going to do) but what I hate is a new HVAC system is just no fun.
When you get a new TV, it is more fun to watch.  When you get a new guitar, it is more fun to play.  When you take a trip, it is a nice get-a-way.  If you buy a new car, your neighbors come over to admire it. Most new stuff you can brag to friends, you can show off your new goods or pictures of your trip.  You get a bang for your buck.
A new HVAC system is expensive, but they are not fun.  There is no bang for your buck.  You don’t invite friends over to your basement and show off your new furnace, you don’t have a party and brag about how warm it is.  A new system is expensive, but somehow, I am just not excited about it.
Mrs. C wants to take a cruise next year to Hawaii.  We may just spend time in the basement admiring the new HVAC system instead.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Dinner at IHOP

Dinner at IHOP

Mrs. C has forever been trying to get me to eat at IHOP (Formerly knows as International House of Pancakes).  I have sworn that I would not eat at a pancake house. 

Why she has been intent on me joining her to this restaurant is beyond me.  Twice I have almost gone for breakfast, but the parking lot was full and people were waiting outside…no thanks.

“We should go for a dinner.”

“Why, who wants pancakes for dinner?”

“They don’t just have pancakes, they have sandwiches, burgers, fries and other stuff.”

“You mean like a diner?”

“Yeah, and you like diners.”

“Yes, I do, so why not go to a diner instead of a pancake house that is like a diner.”

“You’re a jerk!”

Now while that may be true, keep in mind that New Jersey is famous for three things; miles of seashore, gangsters, and diners.  No state has more great diners than New Jersey.  Why would I eat at a pancake house that is like a diner when our state is famous for diners?  I might as well go to Pizza Hut for crappy fake cardboard pizza, instead of Vinny’s genuine fantastic pizza.

Well we went to a movie the other day, and afterwards I agreed to try IHOP as it was right across the street.  It was worth it, not for the food which was ok, but for the conversation.  Not conversation with Mrs. C which was ok, but for the conversation of the couple in the next booth.

There was a lady who was somewhere between 30 and 75…hard to tell, and with a look that suggested she had more cats than the health code might allow.  I will only give you a gist of the conversation which was impossible to not hear.

“Know why I wore this coat and not my other raincoat?  I have two coats you know”

It took about five minutes of this questioning before finally getting to the answer.

“The other coat is dry clean only.  Why dry clean only?  Won’t it get wet in the rain?”

For the next ten minutes all we heard was a repeat of the rain question in different forms.  I heard the term “dry clean only” about a thousand times. 

“Why dry clean only? Won’t it get wet in the rain?  Dry clean only, I don’t understand.  If it gets dirty I don’t want to have to have it dry cleaned, but it is dry clean only.”

I can’t repeat the whole conversation, but you get the picture.  We both tried to edit out her voice, which was, by the way, an annoying nasal combination of Jersey and Boston with more than a pinch of stupid.

At some point we no longer heard “dry clean only” but our ears perked up at this gem,

“I think I need a shower, I haven’t had one since Atlantic City, just after the snow storm.” 

The snow storm was eight days ago.

To which Mrs. C and I both whispered at the same time,

“Maybe she is ‘dry clean only!’

IHOP; the food at a Jersey diner is better, but you cannot top the entertainment.


Getting lazy, so another re-run, this from January 2013 

The following is my son Matt’s favorite story about his grandmother, coincidentally my mother.  It may sound callous or cruel to some so I must provide some background.

My mother grew up at a time when getting sick often meant you might die.  The caution “Put on a coat, you’ll catch your death” was not just an expression.  Mom lost her mom to disease before she was eight years old.  She lost a baby sister when she was four.  Her father died before she was ten.  Mom was raised by her step-mom who was a wonderful grandma to me, but apparently seemed more like Cinderella’s guardian to my mother. 

My mom had many friends while growing up who did not make it to adulthood.  People from her generation knew children who died from a sniffle, they knew men who killed themselves when they lost everything in the stock market crash, they knew many, many young men who left home for war and never returned.  Simply put, mom was no stranger to death and was more numbed to its pain than those of future generations. 

My mother lived on the Maryland eastern shore, on a creek which led to the Chesapeake Bay.  I wish I could have claimed this as the home where I grew up, but my folks did not move to this idyllic house on the water until after I graduated from college.

In the summer when we visited, my kids loved to catch Maryland blue claw crabs off the dock. Mom would throw them in a pot and steam them for dinner.  If this seems cruel to you, (live crabs frantically clacking in a steaming pot for ten seconds before they die is not pretty) keep in mind crabs do not die of old age.  If we do not catch, steam and eat them, a fish will find them while they are shedding their shell and methodically bite off their legs before slowly eating them alive.


When my children grew up they still visited “Gammie’s” every summer for an annual “Crab Feast.”  They went with their friends, crabbed from the dock and Gammie would steam the crabs and serve up a feast along with corn-on-the cob.

One year, several of Matt’s friends were not aware of the size restrictions on keeping and eating blue claw crabs.  They brought up a bushel of crabs for Gammie to steam and as mom was grabbing the crabs with a long-handled crab tong and throwing them in the pot, she realized one was under the size limit.

“Oh my, this crab is too small.”

“Really, we didn’t know, should we throw it back Mrs. Hagy?”

“He really is under sized…” Then as mom flung the tiny crab into the steaming pot she declared,

“Oh well, babies die every day!”

Matt still laughs today at the thought of this sweet little old lady and her flippant remark.

When I am gone I hope my children have a fonder memory of me than this casual comment that they will always remember from Gammie.

And yet: 

The vision of an 88 year old, 102 pound gray-haired lady callously flinging an undersized crab into a steaming pot and saying “Oh well, babies die every day!” somehow was endearing. 
I think it represents the hard life of her generation, her toughness and in a strange way the strength of her religious convictions.  People die, babies die, life goes on and is everlasting. 

“World without end…ah…,”

Monday, January 15, 2018

Cranky Personalities

Cranky Personalities
a cranky re-run from January 2012
I watched a TV show today on multiple personalities, or “Dissociative Identity Disorder” (DID).  The guest was a  woman who claimed to have 20 different personalities.  She was perfectly happy with that condition, and was promoting a book about her situation, not for the “money,” but so people could get greater “understanding” about this disorder (it was the money.)  Personally I think the whole idea about a person having multiple personalities is crap.

“Crap? Wadda ya mean crap?  You sayin I don’t exist in here?”

“Shut up Bruno, nothing good ever happens when you show up.”

Like I was saying, I think this idea is total crap.  The movie, “Sybil” made the idea of multiple personalities popular many years ago.  It turns out Sybil made up all those personalities to gain attention from her psychiatrist.

“That is not true.  All those different people actually lived in her head.”

“No they didn’t, Josephine, Google it; she admitted later it was all just a ruse.  Now go away and play with your dolls!”

Excuse me, they interrupt all the time. 

This whole idea of one person, alternating back and forth between different personalities from a truck driver, to a toddler to a girly-girl is just ridiculous.

“Hey, can I get something to eat?  I’m starving.  You know I can’t get anything without your help.”

“Watch your manners Billy; I’ll get some food when I am good and ready.  You are such a spoiled brat.  Leave me alone, I’m busy here.”

“Will you two please keep it down, I’m trying to get some sleep!”

“Look Lola, if you were not out partying all night you might get up early like the rest of us, you little slut.”
“Slut!  If it were not for me you would never have any fun!”

“Just go back to sleep.  I’m trying to make a point here.  All your noise, you are going to wake the baby!”

Anyway, I don’t buy this “DID” crap.  Some people will just do anything for attention, and psychiatrists will gladly promote the latest disorder just to make a name for themselves.

“Frig you, you dumb ass, what the hell do you know about psychiatry?”

“I know more than you, Sigmund.”

“Well maybe if you let me go to school like I wanted to I would know plenty!”

“School? Sure, you want to go to college, Lola wants to go to beauty school, Bruno wants to go to Vo Tech and drive the big rigs, Josephine and Billy will never grow up, the baby just cries all day and the rest of them have no idea what they want to do! Now all of you just LEAVE ME ALONE!

Dissociative Identity Disorder…What a load of crap!

Sunday, January 14, 2018



Maybe they should try shark repellent.

It’s time again for

 This week’s stupid headlines and my stupider, sometimes sophomoric comments.
Chef at Mario Batali's Babbo restaurant steps down amid allegations of sexual misconduct, 'lewdly' stroking meats – Ooooh! I was afraid to even read this story.
Woman rejects claim she did $300,000 in damage to prominent lawyer's Andy Warhol artwork on first date – Most women I know have a hard-fast rule to never destroy priceless artwork on the first date.
Alabama man accused of sexually molesting horse – And I thought that nothing could be weirder than ‘lewdly’ stroking meats.
Memphis pastor gets standing ovation after acknowledging 'sexual incident' with teen – This is some strange congregation, I wonder if they would applaud the lewd meat stroking chef?
Turkish religious body slammed for suggesting children as young as 9 could marry – This just in, Roy Moore is moving from Alabama to Turkey.
Richie Incognito accused of using 'weak racist slurs' during Jacksonville game – If he used ‘strong racist slurs’ in a league with many very large powerful African Americans, he better be an incognito Incognito.
Spirit Airlines passenger pees all over plane's bathroom, gets himself arrested – Drink spirits, board Spirit, pee on Spirit plane, get spirited away!  And you’ll never guess where this dude is from. (Florida)
Woman, 39, pleads guilty to filming self in sex acts with pet dog, whipped cream – This is truly disgusting!  What was she thinking; using whipped cream?
Or was the dog's name Whipped Cream? Still disgusting.
Butcher locked in freezer bashes out with help from a blood sausage – I don’t even want to know what the hell that is, but I have a rule to never eat anything that can break a lock.
Bride posts ad for wedding dress ‘worn once by mistake’ – I am saying “I don’t think so to the dress!”
Texas Tech student questioned by TSA for brandishing school's 'finger gun' salute – In defense of the TSA, she did go “Ca-pow, Ca-pow!”
Police rescue baby seal waddling down a Massachusetts highway – Is there anything cuter than a baby seal?
Come back again next week for more

Friday, January 12, 2018

Maybe it is a good sign

Maybe it is a good sign
A cranky opinion for
The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with little expertise on the topic opined.  Opposing opinions are welcome, but are wrong.  As always, please no name calling, and that means you, you big stupid-head!
An apparel company recently got itself in hot water with a racist ad.  The company was advertising hooded sweatshirts.  One of their ads was a sweatshirt with a logo “Coolest Monkey in the Jungle.”  This shirt was modeled by a young black child.
Racist?  You bet.
Outrageous? Maybe.
Why maybe?
I sincerely believe this company did not place an ad with a racist image on purpose.  If I am right, it could be a sign of progress.
How so?
Perhaps the world is not seeing black and white quite to the extent that it has in the past.  Perhaps young people are not seeing race the same as people of previous generations have seen race.  A clearly racist ad posted because the generation that produced it does not see race and therefore did not see the inherent racism is actually a good thing.
My children have black friends.  My step daughter’s roommate is African American.  I worked with and worked for African Americans.  My current neighbors on both sides of my town home are African American.
My mother, god bless her, was racist.  She did not wear a white hood, she did not hate black people, but she was raised in a southern city, lived in an all-white neighborhood, and went to an all-white school, and yeah, she was probably a little bit racist. 
I’d like to think that I am not the least bit racist, but yeah, I probably am not without prejudice. 
I remember when my son was 10 and we were watching the movie “Remember the Titans” which was about the integration of a high school football team in Virginia in the 70’s.  My son did not understand what all the friction was about and I had to explain how integrating whites and blacks in the 70’s south was a big deal.  He had trouble understanding that concept.
Yes, I know, racism is still a very big concern in this country, and we need to keep a spotlight on the issue, but while we aim to eradicate racism completely, we should at least acknowledge where we have improved.
From one generation to another racism has been less and less insidious.  Perhaps the fact that a clearly racist ad was allowed to pass censure is a result not of actual racism, but of a generation which no longer sees race and therefore does not see racism that is obvious to those of us that still think in terms of black and white.
The preceding was the opinion of a cranky old man, and not necessarily that of management…Mrs. Cranky.