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Friday, April 20, 2018

I Hate Starbucks

I Hate Starbucks
A cranky opinion for
The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with no expertise in the topic opined.  Opposing opinions are welcome, but they are wrong.  As always, please, no name calling, and that means you, you big stupid-head! 
I hate Starbucks.  I hate Starbucks because their coffee is too strong.
I hate Starbucks because it is so damn expensive.
I hate Starbucks because Starbucks is young and hip and I am old and cranky.
Is that a fair reason to hate Starbucks? Maybe not, still, I hate Starbucks.
Because I hate Starbucks, it pains me to come to their defense.
Starbucks is in the news lately because they called the police on two men who were doing nothing wrong while in one of their establishments. 
It seems two men entered this establishment and asked to use the rest room.  They were told only paying customers could use the restroom.  The two men then hung around the restaurant apparently waiting for someone.  They were asked to leave, they refused, the manager called the police and they were arrested tor trespassing.
The men that were arrested were African American and this has become a racial incident.  The manager was fired.  The CEO of Starbucks is apologizing all over the place and has even met with the two men to ask their help in resolving the issue and assist in ending systematic racism in Starbuck’s corporate culture.
Now I am thinking, I have gone into a McDonalds many times while traveling and used the bathroom without asking.  Most times I still bought lunch, but not always.  Their bathrooms are always open.  The fact these men asked to use the bathroom tells me the room is locked.
If they are locked it suggests to me that these restrooms have been misused in the past by non-patrons.  Maybe they were damaged, maybe the homeless used them to bathe, maybe they were used to take drugs…who knows, but it seems to me that it should be an establishment’s right to not have open bathrooms for anyone to use at the possible detriment to their paying customers.
I also don’t know why anyone would be allowed to take up a table in a restaurant and not purchase anything.  I would never walk into a restaurant and ask for a table for two, and then not order anything.
“No thanks, we’re just waiting for a friend and then we’re leaving.”
If I wanted to use the bathroom and then wait for a friend and was told I needed to be a paying customer, I would buy a cup of coffee.  Most people would buy a cup of coffee.  Anyone who just refused to buy anything or leave is suspicious to me.
Apparently Starbucks is a known place to sip coffee and dawdle, work on your computer, kill time between appointments etc.; but at least, buy a cup of coffee.
Is Starbucks racist?  Not for this incident. 
I have read claims that white people have used this same Starbucks without purchasing anything.  If white people are using the restroom and not buying anything, if white people are hanging around just killing time without buying anything and they are not given the bum’s rush, then yeah, Starbucks is racist. 
But, you ask, “Even if the white people are polite and these African Americans gentlemen copped an attitude?” 
Hell yes, white people would cop an attitude too if based on previous experiences they had reason to believe they were being discriminated against. 
Starbucks should kick out anyone, white or black who is just loitering. If they discriminate and allow whites to dawdle without buying anything then they are racist and I hate Starbucks. 
If they assert this policy equally, then they are not racist.
I still hate Starbucks because their coffee is too strong, it is so damn expensive, and because I am old and Starbucks is young and hip.
The preceding was the opinion of a cranky old man, and not necessarily that of management…Mrs. Cranky.

Thursday, April 19, 2018

TV With Mrs. Cranky

TV With Mrs. Cranky
The other night I was in bed watching TV with Mrs. Cranky and a commercial came on that just set me off.
A young man walks into his parent’s bedroom to let them know he just had a “minor fender-bender in a way-too narrow drive thru.”  He relates that he has called the insurance company and goes on about how great this company is in resolving any problems…I assume this was the commercial portion. 
"I had a minor fender-bender"
Mind you this kid is clearly not a dope-head, had obviously not been drinking, and appeared to be a level headed young man probably, by appearance, an honor student and tuba player in the band.  Mid-way through his accident explanation the mom calmly spits out, “Four weeks without the car!” and the kid meekly replies, “Oh, OK, thanks” and slinks out of the room.
"Four weeks no car!"
I, as sometimes is my wont, went off on this commercial.
“What the hell!  Is that supposed to be ‘good parenting?’ The kid has a minor accident and you ground him? Don’t ask is he ok, don’t ask what the damage is, just show how tough you are and ground him for a month!  Whoopie, aren’t you parent of the year!”
“It’s just a commercial.”
“I don’t care, it pisses me off, these commercials and TV shows are always demonstrating how to be the tough parent with a teenager, I guarantee none of these writers have ever had a teenager; if they did they would  appreciate what a good polite kid this is!”
“It’s just a commercial.”
“I don’t care, it sends a message about parenting that is just unfair, unreal, and stupid; and why doesn’t the kid act like a real teenager and start whining, ‘Ah mom four weeks, that is so unfair!’  I’ll tell you why, because the TV parent always says, ‘Want to go for eight weeks?’  and the kid whimps out…which is also ridiculous.” 
Reality would be:
“What, four weeks, you can’t stop me for four weeks, just try.”
“Now it’s eight weeks young man.”
“Fine, I hate you, I wish you were dead and I was never born, you are ruining my life, and by the way the accident was not even my fault and no, I am not hurt, as if you care. I’m going over to Bobby’s house and watch porn and smoke pot because he has cool parents.”

"Way to go; nice parenting, see you on Dr. Phil jerkweeds!"
“It’s just commercial.”
“Oh yeah, but it still annoys me.”
“I know; it’s ok.”
I may get carried away from time to time.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

The Golf Ball

The Golf Ball
I’m going to steal another story from my brother, Chris, the retired Judge.  I’m stealing it because I like the story, I’m running low on material, and he doesn’t have a blog so why not?

Years ago, before Chris was nominated for a Federal Judge Position by President Clinton, he was nominated by the first George Bush.  That nomination never went through the confirmation process because a Mr. Joe Biden held it up until after the election won by Bill Clinton, at which point it was buried.  It seems as if that political game has been going on for a long time.
A year or so later, before his successful appointment, Chris was playing golf with his wife and other friends when the secret service asked them to hold up and let ex-President Bush play through.
My brother introduced himself to the ex- President and brought up his disappointment that President Bush’s appointment never went to review.  President Bush commented that the election did not work out so well for himself either. 
President Bush then handed a golf ball to Chris’s wife.  A golf ball embossed with the Presidential seal…very cool.  My sis-in-law, Stewart, then handed that ball to another member of their foursome.
When Chris realized she had given this special ball away he was noticeably upset.  Stewart said, “Not to worry,”
She went up to the ex-President as he was about to tee off and with her best Georgia southern charm (and she has plenty of that charm), asked,
“Mr. President, I wonder if you would trade another of your Presidential Seal golf balls for a brand new Titleist One ball?”
Now, it would have been very cool if the President had just given out one more special Presidential Seal golf ball for the asking, but for some reason I think it extra cool that the President gladly accepted the Titleist One ball in trade.
The golf ball with the Presidential seal currently has a special place in my brother’s trophy case. 
I suspect the Titleist One that was given in trade is somewhere on the bottom of a golf course lake.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

The Humidifier Part 2

The Humidifier Part 2
I recently posted about a fight I had with our bedroom humidifier.  This is the contraption that only Mrs. C fills every night as when I touch it, it malfunctions.  A few weeks ago, Mrs. C was away and I could not get the contraption to work without giving it a quick kick.
The other night Mrs. C had trouble with the dang thing.  She filled it and hit the switch and it did not come on.  I told her to kick it and that didn’t work.  I then emptied the base of its residual water, replaced the water container and turned it on…it worked!
In the past Mrs. C has claimed that whatever I touch gets busted.  I really wanted to rib her about the fact that it would not work for her either and that in fact I fixed it, but I know better than to poke the bear and left well enough alone.
Tonight, the humidifier again refused to work without a lot of fussing around with it.  I commented,
“I don’t know why it does that, it doesn’t make any sense does it?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I must say though, it makes me feel a little better that you have a problem with it also, it proves it is not just me.”
“Well there was never a problem until you touched it!”
When I win, I still lose.
At least she didn’t call me a jerk.

Monday, April 16, 2018


Going back to that "One Happy Island" soon so this re-run is from April 2014

I get it women…men can’t find anything we did not ourselves put away.

Deal with it!

You could stop complaining and just deal with it.  But nooo…you want to torture us don’t you, kind of like ripping the wings off a fly.  Yes you do, admit it.  You know we can’t find the stuff you put away.  You know your directions of where to find stuff that you put away can only be understood by another woman.  Yet you continue to expect us to find things.  It is like expecting a person without legs to dance the jig.

This past weekend, Mrs. C and I were vacationing in Aruba.  It is a beautiful island, and we love lounging in the sun with a constant warm breeze, dunking in the ocean, or bathing in the pool.  It is wonderful, except Mrs. C knows how to stir things up.

I got up from our place in the sun to make a trek to the restroom.  Upon arrival I find I need a room key to enter.  I walk back to our umbrella (oh the humanity) to get the key.

“What’s up, why back so soon?”

“You need a room key to enter, where is our key?”

“In the beach bag.”

“Could you just get it?”

“Why don’t you get it?”

“Because you could just reach in and grab it, where I will dig around looking, move stuff around and still not find it.”

“Oh please.   Just open the bag, the key is right behind the book.”

“Book?  We have no book.”

“You know, the Tablet, Nook thing.”

“Which is it, the Tablet or the Nook?”



“Yes, one of those.”

“We have both…oh crap let me look…I don’t see it.”

“It is right there.”

“I don’t see it.”

“For crying out loud hand me the bag.”

Mrs. Cranky reaches into the bag that I have been turning inside out and without looking comes out with the room key.

“Here, it was right inside the plastic baggy.”

“But you said it was in the Nook, or the Tablet.”

“Well it was inside the baggy, if you had just looked you would have found it!”

“Well if you had just reached in in the first place like I asked I would have had 180 seconds of my life that is now irrevocably lost.”

“You’re a jerk!”

Aruba is such a beautiful island that I can easily overlook those minor Mrs. Cranky unpleasantries, besides, without her I would have never even found the island. 

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Stupid Headlines 041518

Stupid Headlines 041518
It Is Time Again For
Now that is a great paint job!
This week’s stupid headlines and my stupider, sometimes sophomoric comments.
Moose kicks man in Alaska -- after he kicked first – “Did not.”  Did too.” “Mom! The moose is touching me!”
Florida woman caught with cocaine in purse blames it on windy day, police say – So the wind blew the blow though the window…God I love Florida!
Los Angeles painting city streets white in bid to combat climate change – I’m not saying this is racist, but it might be a slippery slope.  If I was an African American in LA I’d be concerned.
Georgia man sues former boss after butt dial costs him his job – Not really stupid, I just think the term “Butt Dial” in a headline is funny.
Florida 'supermom' of 16 homeschools kids, shuttles them to 88 sports practices weekly – Do NOT sell a gun to this woman!
Queen Elizabeth cracks joke about Trump, Obama – I read this story…she should probably not quit her day job.
Risk of Zika infection through sex may last only a month – 29 more days to go…
Susan Lucci, 70, says she's 'too shy' to wear a bikini – That should be two shy. *
Divorce is an epidemic that causes as much pain as any disease – The only thing worse is spending your life with someone that makes you miserable!
Lou Diamond Phillips can't drink for two years following arrest in Texas – Isn’t there some rule against cruel and unusual punishment?
Woman set ex-boyfriend on fire after inviting him over for Easter dinner – One more reason to not break up with a sticky note.
Hero Woman Saves 20 People From A Factory Fire – WOW!
*Sorry, that was a cheap shot, it’s been a tough week for stupid headlines.
Come Back Next Week For More


Friday, April 13, 2018

Can’t Live With Them, Can’t live Without Them

Can’t Live With Them, Can’t live Without Them
A cranky opinion for
The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with no credible knowledge on the topic opined.  Opposing opinions are welcome, but they are wrong.  As always, please, no name calling, and that means you, you big stupid-head!
No, I am not talking about women, I am talking about experts…ok, maybe the same thing…most of the time.
We need experts to make decisions because we can not be knowledgeable in all things.  Generally, your doctor knows best; your mechanic knows best; your investment advisor knows best; your teacher knows best.  RELAX, I said GENERALLY!  In fact, that is the point of this rant opinion.
We rely on experts, but sometimes experts are wrong.  Doctors make errors in a diagnosis.  Mechanics change parts that are not broken.  Investment advisors recommend buying Enron.  Teachers…well, teachers are always right.
So, Cranky, what are you saying, ignore experts?
No, but examine the source, examine the motive, examine your own good sense.
When it used to be possible to discuss politics, the first argument I usually faced was “Experts say…” or “Studies have proven…” or “That has already been debunked!” End of discussion!
Maybe, but…
A very close personal relationship to me was a consultant for a firm that had contracts with the Federal Government.  He once told me that when given an assignment as “Expert” consultants to study an issue and make recommendations, the first question they asked their client was, “What is the conclusion you are expecting to find.”
That is just human nature (and good business).  If an environmental group pays for a survey about rising temperatures, odds are data will be collected in a way that supports the theory on global warming.  I am not suggesting that theory is wrong, only saying that “experts say” and “surveys have proven” need to be taken with some degree of skepticism.
Experts told Columbus that the world was flat.
Experts once told pilots that if they were losing altitude they should pull the plane’s nose up.  This seemed to make the most sense, but it caused the plane to go into a tailspin and crash.  Turns out that heading down creates speed and increases lift increasing altitude, so controlling altitude on a plane is not always cut and dry.
Similarly, when government is running a deficit it makes sense to raise taxes to increase revenues.  Sometimes that puts the economy into a tailspin.
OK, I am not an expert on flying or economics and I am not even sure if the world is in fact round.  I am just advocating thinking about and not just always accepting expert conclusions.
I like sports analogies.
In the world of Track and Field high jumpers were first taught to jump over a bar like a hurdler.  Soon someone started to get over the bar with a “scissors kick” technique.  All future jumpers were taught this technique by “expert” coaches.  Then some wise-ass used a different technique called the “California Roll” and the scissors kick was out. 
Sometime in the sixties a high jumper named Fosbury started setting records with a style that had him go over the bar backwards and landing on his back.  Experts warned against this technique saying it was too dangerous.  Other jumpers heeded the warning until Fosbury was so successful and did not get hurt, that they ignored the experts.
Today if you wanted to learn the high jump all the experts would tell you the only technique to use is the “Fosbury Flop.”
A fact is only an assertion that has not yet been disproved.  An expert opinion is pretty much the same thing.
The preceding was the opinion of a cranky old man and not necessarily that of management…Mrs. Cranky.    

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Is It Really Reality?

Is It Really Reality?
OK, I apologize for this, another post on Reality TV.
I should post on things that I do on a typical day…Hmm that would be watching TV, a lot of TV, even reality TV. 
Well, a lot of you probably don’t watch reality TV and you are probably a little curious about it.  As a public service I will let you get a glimpse into what you are lucky enough to be missing.
Recently I have been hooked on “Married at First Sight.”  This show is an experiment in relationships.  Three experts sort through thousands of applications and choose three couples who they feel would be good matches. 
These couples then get married. 
The first time they meet is at the altar.
What could go wrong? 
Are you sorry you don’t watch?
I didn’t think so.
Anyway; I am hooked watching these couples learn to avoid the many pitfalls of marriage while they get to know each other.  This is I believe the fourth season and so far, I think three couples have remained married.
That’s…pause to do the math…a twenty-five percent success rate for the relationship experts.
The experts seem to like matching people that have vastly different personalities.  They seem to think that couples will grow together through communication skills and exercises that the experts assign to them.
One year they matched a dude that I could tell in one minute was a giant pot-head with a non-pot user.  That match up lasted around three weeks.  Duh!  Well done, experts!
This year one couple has been together now for six weeks and has not yet been intimate.  They are sleeping together every night, but they are not “sleeping together.”  She is not quite ready.  He is backed up so much he is ready to explode.  I am guessing this match will not work. They have one more week to decide to, as the show keeps reminding, “Will you stay married, or will you get a divorce.”
One thing about this show that floors me is how bad the experts are at arranging matches.  I think that given some basic knowledge about all the applicants I could successfully match couples at least fifty percent if not more…remember, these are all people who apply because they want to be married!
Last night I was espousing (I almost said exspousing) this theory to Mrs. Cranky.
“I am pretty sure I could match couples better than these experts, they are terrible!  Every one of these couples has had huge fights and it has been six weeks of nothing but drama.  How could they pick such horrible matches?”
“You know this is a TV show don’t you?”
“Would you watch if all three couples hit it off at once and were just happy and lovey-dovey every week?”
“No, that would be boring.”
“Maybe the experts know what they are doing after all.”
“Oh yeah; good point.”  

Wednesday, April 11, 2018



Years ago on the very first episode of the first Bill Cosby sit-com, the one where he played a gym teacher, not a Doctor.  Cosby, in full gym teacher attire (Damn he was funny, I wish he had not turned out to be such a dick) was searching all over his office for something.  I was watching with my old high school friend Widmer, and we both hollered out at the same time, NEEDLE VALVE!
Two seconds later Cosby started mumbling NEEDLE VALVE…NEEDLE VALVE.
Widmer and I were in stiches.  Anyone who has ever owned a basketball or football that was deflated knows that a NEEDLE VALVE is one of those things that you see all the time, but when you finally need it, it is nowhere to be found.
The other night after finishing a tax stuff for my college son, I needed a paper clip.  I see paper clips all the time.  I don’t think I have ever looked for anything in this house without seeing a paper clip.  I see them and think,
“When I need a paper clip I know where to find one.”
Except apparently paper clip is to stationary as NEEDLE VALVE is to sports equipment.
I checked every drawer in the house and could not find a paper clip.  I could have called Mrs. C at work and she would know immediately where I could find one, but she would also make fun of me for being clueless as I’m sure I must have looked in a drawer where there was a paper clip and just missed it.
As I ripped apart drawers looking for a paper clip, which yes, I did finally locate one, I was reminded of that old Cosby show.  I was muttering out loud, “NEEDLE VALVE…NEEDLE VALVE!”
Fortunately, I was home alone.
I’m not sure how I would have explained that strange muttering to Mrs. C.