Dark Cloud’s Silver Line[ing]...Doesn’t Work!

Okay, this is exactly how stereotypes are born.  One thing starts to go wrong, and everyone just gives it a shrug. Two things happen and people chuckle.  Three things go terribly wrong and the ball starts to roll downhill toward Edsel-Town or Wii-U-ville.  Welcome to the Silver Line of the Washington DC area’s Metro.

              I’m going to start out here and say that I have a dog in this fight…on wait…too soon after Michael Vick…I have a horse in this race…yeah, that’s better. I live in Northern Virginia and ride the Metro to work every day.  And I can’t wait for this new Metro expansion, which will create a new line of the metro, subway, tube, whatever you wish to call it, which will have a station within a few miles of where I live.  It will cut a great deal of travel time to and from my job (I’m a sight-challenged gynecologist with shaky hands, a nervous tick and a tendency to lie about his occupation).

   

              Naturally I was elated when I found out a few years ago that this new Metro system was going to become a reality. The new line was even given a new name…the Silver Line!  Granted the other lines of the Metro have color names like Blue, Orange, Green, Yellow, even a Red line that occasionally goes from one station to another without breaking down...rarely but it does happen. But the Silver Line, well that sounds classy.  Sounds regal. Sounds…expensive.  Oh well, it will definitely be worth it. Grab a shovel, boys, it’s time to get this job done!

              Oh wait, to quote the immortal detective Columbo, “One more thing…” the Silver Line will go $150 million over budget and 8 months late, with now an indefinite delay on the project.  The executive director has resigned in disgrace and has moved to Abu Dhabi because he likes the sound of the place.  There are leaky roofs, cables that need to be replaced, speakers that don’t work (and I presume they mean electronic speakers and not just people who make a living talking), and a communication system that shuts down for no apparent reason. Now, I’m a man who believes there is way too much talking in the world to begin with but I do recognize that this communication system, which allows the trains to talk to the control center is at least mildly important.

              I referenced earlier my belief that it is in situations such as these that stereotypes form. All around the region, artists are preparing to draw the caricatures that will define our Northern Virginia area. Oh yes, we’ll be people with no opposable thumbs, only one butt cheek as we only do things in a half-a**ed way, our tendency to take ourselves way too seriously and when push comes to shove, we can’t actually complete anything.  Congratulations, Silver Line, you’ve made us a laughing-stock. How many Northern Virginian’s does it take to screw in a light bulb? There is no finish to that joke because we can’t pull it off with the people and equipment we have. Nice.

              Maybe we shouldn’t be allowed to have a completed Metro. I mean, perhaps this is God’s way of keeping us idiots away from the general population. Perhaps we just can’t be trusted enough to create a system of transportation that is on rails…that doesn’t vary…that goes from point A to point B. Yep, too complex a task it is. Speaking like Yoda I am. Do you see what you’ve done to me, Metro? Hmm, at you I’m pissed.  

              I jest, not joust as  I can’t because I’m still having trouble removing someone’s Burgonet and Voider from my Culet…long story, but do NOT get drunk at a Medieval Times (that joke’s for you, Jessica!), but really, what can we do to pull this off?  Does the stink and failure of politics in Washington drift downwind to the Old Dominion? Are we unable to make a choo-choo that goes from one destination to another because we lack the cranial matter to complete the task?  Do we engage in financial arrangement with contractors who stopped selling snake oil only as recently as this morning to build our transportation system?  There are a lot of people in our area with a lot of pieces of paper acknowledging their smartitude that they’ve purchased from knowledge peddlers in fancy buildings.  Could they not get together and build a trolley that goes from one place to another? Well, I guess even if we do finish building the Silver Line, we’ll come up with one heck of a conductor for it…

              So go ahead Canada, invade us. We’re ready.  I know you’ve been waiting for the time and place when we’d be at our intellectually worst.  Congrats, we’re here.  Just promise me one thing. If you’re going to come down and take us over, please at least…

Etre Bon Ou Etre Bon Dans Ce!

Shocked by my Behavior

 

              For as long as I can remember, our family had dogs.  Most of the time we had several dogs at the same time.  We had spaniels, shelties, Chihuahuas and mutts, you name it and we probably had it.  Pooches occupy a special place in my heart but there was one thing that hurt that special place in my heart...that damn invisible fence.

              Firstly let me say that this occurred during a different time in our collective timeline.  Animal rights were not nearly as extensive as they are today and we simply thought nothing of using one of those shock collars when training a dog.  So when my parents bought an electric fence, we didn’t for a second believe we were going to do any harm at all to the dog…the dog…to the dog…harm to…the dog. Stay with me.

              Our dog at the time, a mutt that was part wolf had a bad habit of digging under the fence and getting out of the friendly confines of our yard.  She’d run away get all dirty and come back and sleep until she had enough energy to do it again…say that reminds me of me in my younger days.  Anyway, we lived near a busy road and wanted to make sure nothing would happen to her so we bought this invisible fence.  The nice men who came and installed the thing were very careful to go through all the procedures step by step with us and we listened to the first three of the steps before getting a collective glazed look in our eyes and missing the last half of the instructions.

              So to get the nice men to leave us alone, we simply said ‘Got it!’ and signed the paperwork before seeing them to their Doggy Security van.  So they drove off and counted their money, all the while laughing at the stupid family with whom they had just concluded business.  My father, showing a complete lack of good judgment, hands me the collar and the batteries and asks me to get it set up.  Naturally, I reverse the polarity (ie stick ‘em in the wrong way) and almost break the cover of the collar trying to force them into the battery compartment.  Oh that silly, silly man my father is.  

              Having realized that perhaps an idiot is not able to comprehend the battery installation, he takes the collar back from me and installs the batteries properly and hands the collar back to me.

Now…let’s stop for a moment.  Everybody all caught up? Having some orange slices and getting re-hydrated? Good, because it’s important to get a couple of things clarified here…Firstly, my eyesight is bad, for those of you who have been with us for a while, you know that my eyesight is like a TRex in that my eyesight is based on movement, it’s that bad.  Secondly you need to know that on this particular invisible fence collar, there is a knob and it goes from zero to ten.  There is no eleven because Spinal Tap was busy giving a concert when we bought this particular invisible fence.  Okay, so we’re good now? Alright, here we go.

              The theory for the invisible fence is thus…collar goes on dog. Collar is turned on and set to an acceptable level so that going past the fence post gives such a shock that the dog isn’t hurt but learns not to go past the fencepost again.  Simple really.  It’s exactly like a real fence except that it isn’t.  But it’s important to get the setting right. You don’t want to hurt the pooch, but you don’t want the dog to just shrug it off either.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you…me…the idiot.

              Still holding the collar, I dial it to zero and strap it around my neck just in the fashion it would soon adorn our little poochie woochie.   Having put on the collar, I start walking to the fence line. I  cross the threshold of the fence and God hits me…hard…and not in a playful way.  I am looking upward as I discover that my body has been rather quickly thrust to the ground. I find myself staring into the sun and a twi….twww….twitching in my right eye that is taking a long time to stop.  My family rushes to my aid…well, that’s not accurate. My mother is genuinely worried about me and is trying to make sure I’m okay.  My sister is laughing hysterically and my father has the look of embarrassed indignation on his face, no doubt regretting continuing our species.

              My father reaches for my neck, somehow resists the urge to simply squeeze until I go away, and grabs the collar.  He examines it and quickly comes to realization that his idiot and almost blind son set the pain…sorry…training setting to ten instead of zero.  And what became of the dog, you ask? Oh he was most disturbed by my little demonstration.  As I turned my head while I was lying on the ground I saw him leap back and forth over the imaginary and invisible fence line.  Wouldn’t be the last time a dog had the better of me, but it certainly was the most painful. 

So be smart, people. Say no to electricity!

BbbbeeeeGggggooooodooorrrBeeeeeeeGoooooddaaaaaatttttItttttt!

Disney is trying to KILL US!

              “When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are…” Admit it. You’re singing the song in your head right now. I can’t blame you, so am I. These words have been so indelibly inserted into our brains by Walt Disney and his magical company that we cannot remove them from hour childhood psyche. Their animated movies were, and still are, a touching reminder of the innocence of being a child and that magic still exists in a world full of harsh realities such as death, taxes, Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus.  Their movies were, and still are, the invitation for children to be killed in horrible and disgusting ways.

              Harsh? Well yeah, but come with me on this little journey down Disney movie memory lane, shall we? Let’s start with Bambi, the cute deer that somehow overcomes the murder of his mother by human hunters and grows up to be the Prince of the Forest. Touching story, really. But have you ever been really close to a deer? You know…with antlers and hooves? I’ve been kicked by a deer and it hurts…a lot.  And antlers? They hurt when they combine with force and are applied to genitalia.  So go ahead and approach the kindly Bambi…but bring a cup.

              While we’re talking about older Disney movies, how about Robin Hood? Remember? The one with the adorable fox that stops the antics of Prince John?  Well foxes, the true animals and not the ones on a typical cheerleading squad, are incredible susceptible to diseases including diseases that completely alter the mind to the point that they are incredibly mean, very aggressive and will snap at anything and everyone in their path…so okay, they are like a fox on a typical cheerleading squad, but regardless, foxes can be dangerous.  

              And Disney’s Dumbo? Sure, try walking up to a typical African Elephant and see what it’s reaction is. Remember the old joke about what’s the gunk between an elephant’s toes? Slow tourists.  Walt was outright asking for your precious little angel to be crushed to a pulp.  While we’re at it, how about more modern movies? Disney didn’t just declare war on your children when he was alive, no sir! This even occurs in hit movies in the more modern times.

              Lion King? I won’t even talk about a lion. If you go grabbing at a lion, you get what you deserve. But how about Rafiki? He’s the cute monkey that dances around being all philosophical and mentor-like.  But a monkey will rip your face off. Remember that it happened to a lady not too long ago. Do you want a monkey capable of facial mutilation to be holding your bundle of joy up for all the world see? No, thank you Mr. Disney person.  

              And Bears? Oh bears. Winnie the Pooh will rip your intestines out and hang you with them before eating the rest of you.  The momma from Brave? Go for a heartfelt hug with a bear and you’ll see what your spleen looks like on the outside. And speaking of Winnie the Pooh, what about Tigger? How do you spell his name? T…I…Double Grrrowl as I bounce on your chest and sever your Jugular vain…Er.

              How about the king of them all, Mickey Mouse? Two words…black plague.  Oh yes, he and his Rescuer friends along with the rats from Ratatouille had fleas on them that allowed for the greatest outbreak of sickness and death in history. Oh, Mr. Disney your heart was as cold as…a snowman.

           OR          

Okay, okay…I’ll “Let it go.”  Just be sure to tell your little bundle of joys that you need to avoid Disney Animals at all costs. They are potentially dangerous, after all…like the cheerleaders.

So keep on keeping on, folks and…

Be Good or Be Good At It!