And The Award Goes To…

Dan, MY Guy, who kept this HMS Booze-Bulge B3 afloat while MsBurb was up to her asterisk in boxes and bags….

TAKE A BOW DAN, YOU DESERVE IT BUDDY!!!

Dan is having the best sleep of his Life right now, well, or at least of the last 9 days, now that MsBurb has come up for air…

Do NOT fret, newbie Dan lovers – and I KNOW you’re out there, how could you NOT be! – he will be hovering around Webland injecting his “verbiosity” now and then as a welcome break from the droning of a certain poster whose Burbie name shall remain, well, nameless.

Don’t you think Dan looks good as an award, ‘cause I do! I LOVE how I can mold him into all sorts of shapes and sizes…sorry Dan, you’re just like Play Doh and Silly Putty combined…wayyyyyy too much fun to leave alone!

Tomorrow, MsBurb will have fingers to the keys once again to bring you everything you never knew you needed until she said you did!

So sleep well Danny, in those cozy flannel PJs, and sleep in ‘cause Lord knows you deserve it!

TAG!!!!

Dan Post #6

"You will never understand,
How it feels to live your life,
With no meaning or control,
And with nowhere left to go,
You're amazed that they exist,
And they burn so bright,
While you can only wonder why".

William Shatner/Ben Folds/Joe Jackson
Common People

We are witnessing the decay of America.

I was driving home from work the other day and simply looked at my surroundings.

Our roads are chuck-holed, pocked-marked and ravaged.

Reader boards are always missing a letter or two....or, worse yet, numbers are put in backwards or upside-down.

The garbage day curb reflects us as bein' an unrestrained mob of overindulgent consumers....and the year always brings us new trials, don't it?

I went to fill a prescription, the other day, at my neighborhood Script-Mart.

They handed me back my script and looked at me as if they never heard of me.....right before they told me that my insurance was "inactive" and warned me that, if I tried that again, they would chase me out of there with a broom.....

Did this surprise me?....not in the least.

Mainly because the procurers of my health and welfare benefits are as dumb as monkeys. But the fact remains that I am hangin' out there like a sticky booger on a frigid winter morning.

Incompetence in the world abounds.

I called my insurance company and they assured me that all is right with the world and that I do, indeed, have the benefits that I am dearly paying for.

They could not answer the question as to why the pharmacist refused to fill my request for my daily medication.....nor did they take any steps to correct the mis-communication between themselves and the pharmacy.

Did their simple acknowledgement to yours truly change anything?

Did they think that their "assurance" to me would change the fact that the pharmacy would not fill my request?

In other words, did they do anything to correct the problem?.....NO!

They simply told me that I was covered.

What kind of sick world do we live in?

They feel as if they have done their best by simply TELLING me that I was covered.....it's like,

"Hey,....IF you can get it,.... we might help pay for it....if you can prove that we ever had this conversation".

I cannot stand these people. I cannot stand the people who associate with these people. I cannot stand the people who associate with the people who associate with these people. I do not like their relatives. I do not like their children. I do not like their grandmothers.

They are the faceless denizens of corporate America....they are the ones who continually bastardize their contractual obligations.... and then blame it on the very people whom they swore to protect.

These are people who rape the wallets of guys like me and sit pretty with all sorts of free coverage of their own....that I pay for,.....while blaming the all the ills of the uncontrolled health care system on the very ones who they fought to cover and represent.

Their little shell game of holding up a benefit book.... and then hiding it behind their back.... is getting very old, indeed.

I would have cheerfully smacked the woman on the other end of the phone had it not been for the fact I can't, realistically, reach through a phone line and literally smack the woman on the other end of the phone......but that's part of their whole game, too.

They knew that I wouldn't be able to punch them in the face..... due to the fact that they simply gave me a phone number to call.....between the hours of 8 and 5......Monday through Friday....excepting holidays.

(I gotta say,....I never saw that one comin'..... they got me with that one, boy.)

They must have thought that I would take the "Tina Turner" approach to gettin' royally abused.

They thought that I would just roll over and say,

"Hit me again, Ike!....and this time,....PUT SOME STANK ON IT"!....but I won't do it.

I won't roll over.

Someone has to take a stand against the cold, faceless scourge of unrequited health care "assurance".

I vowed to myself,....then and there....that I will no longer subsidize the four-hour, fat-cat, gentleman's club luncheons of crooked health care insurance administrators.... with the garnishments of my hard-earned farthings.

As I stood in the foot care aisle,.....next to the Dr Scholl's inserts and under the watchful eye of the pharmacist,....I contemplated as to what my next move should be.

I decided that another call to my faux, health-care customer-relations operator should be proffered.

I called back.... and I immediately asked the name of the person to who I was speaking to.....(in case I had to use it against them later).....and I was told by her, that her name was "Rosie".

That question was specifically designed to throw her off-balance, as it were......I'm sure she was asking herself why I would ask such an odd question. I'm sure that a sally of scenarios began to play out in her tee-tiny mind.....she was "en-guard".

Dan: 1

Health-care customer-relations operator: 0

I explained myself,.... who I was....and dutifully submitted the information that was emblazoned on the the front of my card.

(This is all part of the game as well.....they knew who I was even before they picked up the phone......they just didn't think that a ne'er-do-well peon, such as myself, would've heard of that new technological advancement known as Caller ID .....they knew who I was alright.....and why I was calling).

I then respectfully detailed the awkward situation that THEY had put me in.

(They knew why I was calling..... I bet that when they found out they were dealin with Dan,.... the flurry of activity that erupted in their office must have rivaled the final moments of Hitler's bunker.....they knew who they were dealin' with).

I then asked "Rosie" what she was gonna do about it.

(I slipped her name back into the conversation because,.... if it wasn't her real name,.... she might betray what her true name really was.....but she didn't....she didn't slip up).

She then put me on hold.....and I stood there....my fury and anguish being soothed into submission by the hauntingly mesmerizing strains of the on hold music.....it was Percy Faith's, "Theme From A Summer Place".

So, I stood there....in the foot care aisle.....reading testimonies about the the fine qualities of the Dr Scholl's Super-Arch Support with Charcoal Dryness..... in a pamphlet designed to proselytize me to the advanced and premature care of my feet.....while listenin' to some kick-ass Percy Faith.

I then began to muse to myself about the age-old question of whatever happened to Ray Coniff.

He was a good arranger for that musical demographic, ya know.....he had some unusual flavorings to his music, didn't he?

Not really edgy enough for me.... but he showed some aplomb behind the mixing board.....his whole syrupy take on Phil Spector's Wall Of Sound style left a little bit to be desired but, on the whole, not really a bad entertain.....

"Hello, Dan"?

"Hi Rosie....yeah, I'm still here".

"I spoke with my "specialist" and they have assured me that your problem will be corrected by one o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I know that this is an inconvenience and we apologize. There was a clerical error and we will do everything we can to correct this problem......If you need to get your prescription filled today, you can go to such and such pharmacy and they will be glad to help you get the medicine that you dearly need."

(Pause)......(still reading the Dr. Scholl's pamphlet and not possessing the cognitive skills to multi-task....that bein', readin' while talkin' on the phone.....)

"I'm sorry, Rosie....what was that"?

"I spoke with my "specialist" and they have assured me that your problem will be corrected by one o'clock tomorrow afternoon. I know that this is an inconvenience and we apologize. There was a clerical error and we will do everything we can to correct this problem......If you need to get your prescription filled today, you can go to such and such pharmacy and they will be glad to help you get the medicine that you dearly need."

"Oh,....Ok....Thanks, man....talk to ya later".

See,....when you stand up to "the man", you can sometimes be pleasantly surprised.

I took the bull by the horns and made like a tree and leaved.....because I really didn't NEED to get that particular prescription filled on that particular day.....I just had an open window of opportunity and a half hour to kill.

I then went home and found that my furnace had taken a dump.

It was 57 degrees in the house.....had to do somethin' about that.....But that's a whole 'nother story in itself......

Anyway,...

Dan Response #1

"Hush, Hush.

Keep it down now,

Voices carry..."

Til Tuesday

Voices Carry

B had told me how to get to the thingy where you can respond to posts. She said I had to wait until the page loads fully,...but I have a hard time waiting that long so I thought I would respond in a post by itself.

Here are my responses:

1. Lemon juice usually does the trick.

2. Andrew Carnegie.

3. It was while playin' cards in Westminster Abbey.

4. Pekingese

5. Defrost it first.

6. Never respond when a woman tells you about her trip to the OB/GYN. There are no proper rejoinders.

Anyway,...

Dan Post #5

"Findin' your way....you come back wantin' me,
I'm gonna stay, lovin' you endlessly.
Open up your eyes, then you realize,
Here I stand with my
Everlasting love...."


Rachel Sweet/Rex Smith
Everlasting Love


Goin' and gettin' an oil change is one of those things that tends to be really painful. It's like gettin new tires.

It's a void of time. A temporal blackout.

The reason it's so painful is because the mechanics at these establishments are trained to inform you about the pathetic state of your automobile in an attempt to convince you, that if you don't buy a bottle of gas additive...this very minute,....your car may very well break down the minute you pull it away from the garage doors.

(Of course, that additive is only $12.99 a bottle...)

The good thing about these establishments is that they give your car the entire 'winterizing' once over. They check your tire pressure, top off the blue juice that washes your windshield, check your wipers, spray WD40 on all the car door hinges and they tell you if any of your light bulbs are burned are out.

If one of your bulbs is actually out, they will even replace it for a mere $9.99,....which, considering the bulb is only worth 39 cents....and it takes them all of 15 seconds to replace,...it then becomes bad business for them and good for my wallet....because I will not have them replace it and I will go and get the bulb from the local NAPA autoparts store.....where,....chances are,...if my buddy Ron is working, he will just give it to me for free.

I usually do both vehicles on the same day or within a few of each other.

It's always so folksy, that when you pull up, they walk up to your car door and call you by your first name.

At first I thought they were just really good at names there. That each customer is so appreciated and valued that the entire staff makes it a point to remember your name and what is always wrong with your car.

After about the 10th time, I was finally able to put two and two together and realize that they have a computer in there with your license plate number and they call up the tag when they see you at the back door,...even before you pull the car into the garage!

Clever.

I always feel ashamed when going to this place. It's like I brace myself for the onslaught of ridicule, mixed with a helpin' of concern, when they start goin' over the vehicle in their 90 point check.

Yes, I know my air filter needs to be replaced.

Yes, I know my serpentine belt has some cracks in it.

Yes, I know my license plate bulb is burned out,....no, wait a minute,...I didn't know that.

No, I don't want you to replace it at $9.99,....Yes, I know that if it's dark out, I could get pulled over.

They even give you an itemized list of the things that are wrong with your car and list the totals of what it will cost to fix. Usually, it's somewhere in the $900 region.

This is all done before the actual oil change occurs.

Then, of course, comes the choice of oil you prefer.

I always go to the bottom of the list....on which, right above the cheapest choice, is the "green" choice of Eco-guard type oil,....for a mere two dollars more,....which I always get because I want to avoid the guilt trip about using regular ol' oil instead of the environmentally sound choice that is available to me.

That always begs the question about where oil really comes from. Given 10 seconds to think about it, I realize, after I made the Eco-Choice decision, that oil actually comes from the ground and should have no problem goin' back there.

(D'oh!)

They always get me on that one, man....

Time spent in a garage getting your oil changed is one of those times where you come to the sobering realization that you are wasting your life.

Once your choices are made and the work begins, the silence begins to grow deafening.

All you hear is metallic clanks and plastic snaps as you sit lookin' blankly at the hood of your car....that is in the raised position.

Nothin' more is said. Just silence.

I began to wonder about whatever happened to Rachel Sweet.

I wondered if she was still 17,...like she was in 1977.

She was really cute,...in that bug's ear sort of way....but what a set of pipes. I have never heard a vocal sustain like that in the song, "Who Does Lisa Like". It musta went on for seven or eight bars minimum.

Pure vocal power, man.

When I think about vocal power, Rachel always comes to mind....pipes, man. Pipes.

She was the embodiment of Stiff......her and Nick Lowe. Pure punk for Now People....with free-base talent.

I thought about that song, "Everlasting Love".

It had that "Edge Of Seventeen" guitar sound. I could almost hear it....

.....chugachugachugachugachugachugachuga......

The melody and words started playin' in my head....and I could almost envision gettin' out of the car and dancin' down the street.....in a West Side Story sort of way.

As if a street ballet could, in an igna-second, explode to life and everyone would pull out a guitar and go spinnin' in circles in a synchronized manner,....across the table tops of McDonald's and on the counters in CVS....until it spilled out into the middle of the street.....whereupon there would be 300 people moving in exact precision down the middle of the avenue......dancin' on car roofs,...

......chugachugachugachugachugachugachugachugachuga......

"Hey, Dan?....Dan"?

"Huh"?

"Looks like you gotta bit of a problem here,...I think you have a squirrel livin' in your intake..."

The mechanic then proceeded to pull three handfuls of acorns out from underneath my hood.

Yes.

Very well, then....

Time well spent.

Anyway,....

Dan Post # 4

"Why should I care,
If I have to cut my hair,
I've got to move with the fashion,
Or be outcast.

I know I should fight,
But my old man, he's really alright.
And I'm still livin' at home,
Even though it won't last.

Zoot suit. White jacket with
side vents five inches long.
I'm out on the street again,
And I'm leaping along.
Dressed right for a beach fight,
But I just can't explain,
Why this uncertain feeling,
Is still here in my brain"

The Who
Quadrophenia/Cut My Hair


There are just some things that a man over forty should not wear.

Concert T-shirts and stripes.

I mean, it's OK to like Mettallica....but wearin' the t-shirt over an over-sized gut neither endears you....or the band.....to the observer of the garment in question.

(I make exceptions for my Dennis Wilson t-shirt. It was bought 2X to compensate for the girth that I have acquired....and he never got any recognition when he was alive....so it's the least I can do for a guy who has been dead since '83.)

The plain and simple fact of the matter is that it is just time to do away with this type of silliness.

I have an extraordinary amount of concert and band t-shirts. I do not wear them out of the house and only don them when I put on my flannel jammie pants as a prelude to evening retirement. In that arena, it is acceptable to wear your band proudly.....when you're over forty.

I made the mistake once of wearin' my New York Dolls t-shirt to church one Saturday morning when I was workin' in the soup kitchen. I had put this t-shirt on and then threw a sweatshirt on over it. This action was completed in the early morning hours when the lighting in my bedroom is poor. There were no ramifications of my actions but, being over forty, it caused me a certain degree of embarrassment.

I have noted, however, that when men over forty wear concert t-shirts, the fact that their own greying and receding hairline does not add justice to the rebellion they wish to display.

Let's just leave the t-shirts in the bedroom, OK? You have a full eight hours to wear your band proudly.

The other thing a guy over forty should not wear is stripes. Stripes do not add any flair to your style, no matter what you think.

I had bought some striped shirts a while ago and I could not get over the fact that, every time I looked down, I was blinded by this sea of stripes. I also couldn't get over the fact that, when I looked in the mirror, my face seemed drabber than it normally does.

Granted, I'm goin' grey and gettin' older,....but it all just seemed compounded by the myriad of colors in my shirt.

I will concede that this does not apply to everyone. Some guys can get away with wearing stripes. Some guys are known for their stripes. Some guys are called Stripes. Be that as it may, most men over forty should refrain from wearin' stripes. Stick with the dignified solid colors and you'll be OK.

While we're at it, I would like to say a word about the Converse Chucks.

Being as popular as the are now, I have to state, for the record, that they belonged to my generation before they were mass consumed by the current generation.

We simply had less to choose from. There was black, red, white and blue. They were found in the back of the shoe store. They were worn by the likes of James Dean, the Brady Bunch and the Ramones.

You stole them from us. This is not a case of us tryin' to look cool. You stole that piece of retro fashion because you are a generation that has run out of ideas.

(Case in point, the whole "pants that hang to the middle of the crack of your ass" thing. This is the best that you could come up with? You take your cues from a prison fashion that states you are available for sex with someone of the same gender?.....not a single original thought when it comes to today's fashion....)

In any event, the shoes belonged to us before you stole them.

I, personally, wear them because I have flat feet and they are the most comfortable shoes I could find. They are cheap.....and they don't feel like balloons when I put them on. I am gettin' on in years and, if this is the only solace my poor feet can find, so be it.

(I did, however, cross the line and buy some "Goth" boots. This was dutifully pointed out to me by my daughter.....after the sales was complete. They ARE "Goth" boots. I didn't mean to buy "Goth" boots. I didn't know I was lookin' at "Goth" boots when I was shopping....but they are "Goth" boots. They are Ralph Lauren Polo boots. They are black leather with a myriad of straps on the side. They are comfortable, I'll say that for them....but they are Goth boots.....)

Not to get off the subject,....but this generation did steal the Chucks from us.

As a compromise, I suggest that the younger generation ONLY wear the chucks that advertise some kinda message.....or plaid. We will wear only the white, blue, red and black.

How about that?

You have stolen our music, our fashion and our rhetoric. You have made, for your own, The Beatles, The Who, Pink Floyd and The Partridge Family.

As we deal we this generation that has completely run out of ideas, we are faced with a dilemma.

We either forsake our fashion and music or we take a stand and claim them back.

I, for one, will fight the good fight and reclaim what was once ours,....I just won't do it in my Goth boots.

Anyway,....