Thursday, June 21, 2007

Jurassic Breakfast

“Did you see this? It says that the dinosaurs were probably hard of hearing. I wonder why they wanted to find that out? That’s kind of a weird thing to study don’t you think? Some kid in college, sitting in a basket weaving class, and it hits him. “I’m going to study dinosaur ears!!!” I think that’s really odd don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The dinosaurs are deaf.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“No I’m not, it’s in the paper, look.”

“Calabrese what would lead you to believe that I would even be remotely interested in hearing about deaf dinosaurs at 5:30 in the morning?”

"It's science."

"Idiot."

“I was just making conversation.”

“Look at this face. This is a 5:30am face. In 29 years of marriage has this face ever had a conversation at 5:30am?

“Apparently not.”

“Don’t make me kill you.”

“Is this that communication thing you women are always talking about? Cause if it is you suck at it……… That was just a joke… Small joke…. Little joke… Not even worth retaliating for.”

“You’re not going to shut up are you?”

“I just think it’s bizarre that this would be in the news. Is it supposed to add another extinction theory? Did they think there were “ninja” dinosaurs sneaking up on other dinosaurs because they couldn’t hear them? How does something that big sneak up on something anyway? And how do they know they were deaf? Maybe they just didn’t speak the same language. Maybe there were illegal alien dinosaurs that only spoke dinosaur Spanish. Maybe the whole dinosaur extinction happened because they couldn’t understand each other. Maybe there was an illegal alien dinosaur that tried to warn the other dinosaurs to “RUN” but it came out, “ANDALE ANDALE!!” and the other dinosaurs just look bewildered and then WHAMMO!!!... meteor. If they had only listened to the more liberal dinosaurs they would have all spoken English and Spanish and they might still be alive today. This article just doesn’t answer my questions. Why would they get us thinking about this and not answer all the potential questions? Huh? Well?”

“So you’re basically just trying to piss me off.”

“I’m not; I swear this really bugs me. Why is this in the paper? Is the knowledge of deaf dinosaurs going to cure cancer? Will it get the stem cell research bill passed? Will it get us out of Iraq? Will it help us select the next president? On that maybe it will. Most of them are deaf dinosaurs. Will it make me think of something other than Osama every time I hear Obama? Will it make Hillary look less bitchy and give her thinner calves? Will it help Mitt make up his mind on anything? Will it give any republican candidate some charisma? Will it lower gas prices? Will it help me lose weight? Will it keep them from canceling Studio 60? Will it help us find out who really killed Nicole Simpson? Will it make Bob Barker younger and Rosie O’Donnell straight? Will it free Paris Hilton? Why is this even in print?”

“Where’s my sword?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Okay Calabrese let me ask you a question. How come when I’m talking to you 90% of the time you don’t hear what I’m saying?”

“What? Just kidding? Come on babe I hear you.”

“So you hear me you just don’t listen to me. Because if you were listening to me you wouldn’t be talking right now at 5:30 in the MORNING!!!!”

“Uh… I don’t think the dinosaurs were deaf. They were probably just married.”

Friday, June 15, 2007

Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's.....

When I got back from Boulder I sat down and said, “Tony on July 11th you turn fifty years old. You need to figure out what you want to be when you grow up.”

Well I don’t want to grow up.

First you’re born.

Then you grow up.

Then they stick a camera up your butt.

Then you die.

I don’t want to grow up.

So then I said to myself, “Maybe this is your midlife crisis Tone. You need to take a nap.”

When I woke up I realized that I had been “dreaming” about “worrying” about stuff that only old people think about. Like the following:

Fiber
Anyone named Mitt.
Partially Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil
Hillary Clinton
Erectile Dysfunction
Immigration Reform
Global Warming
Global Cooling
The Globe Trotters
The Communists
Paris Hilton
Gas prices
The end of the Sopranos
My current diet
My annual physical
The future
Death

And that was just one dream.

I was dreaming like an old person.

Where were all the playmates and naked cheerleaders? Where was the Ferrari? Where were the all you can eat buffets? What happened to my dreams?

So I’m totally bummed for a couple of weeks and then I get this in the mail.





So now you know why I haven’t posted anything for a month.

I can’t believe this.

Me.

In the A.A.R.P?

How do these people know I’m turning 50?

Communist bastards.

This has to be a satanic cult.

A.A.R.P.? I have an A.A.R.P. card?

They call it the A.A.R.P. because that’s the sound you make when you first open the envelope it comes in.

“AARP!!!!”

Why do I need to join the A.A.R.P.?

I’m already in the Vons Club.

I never thought that turning the big 5-0 would bug me so much.

But it does.

It really really does.

It’s bad enough that I sound like the “Tin Man” every time I get up from my couch now I have an old person ID card?

Damn.

So I go to their website to find out about the A.A.R.P.

Um…

Maybe this isn’t so bad.

I can get discounts to Disneyland and Sea World and Hertz and Hampton Inns. (I think there’s a law that says old people have to stay at a Hampton Inn or Motel 6)

I can get 50% off an Oregon “scientific” BBQ Thermometer that let’s me monitor my food from a 100 feet away.

They obviously don’t know me that well. I’m never a 100 feet away from my food.

I can get 35% off a GPS device if I’m in the AARP.

How come all old people aren’t buying these things? Maybe then we wouldn’t be reading about these old people wandering off all the time. They should automatically send a GPS with the damn card.

I spent an hour on the website. I can get discounts on everything!!! I finally figured it out. AARP is COSTCO for old people! And it’s all online!!!

I’m starting to think this isn’t such a bad idea.

I start to picture myself coming up to a line of elderly people standing in line waiting for government cheese when I whip out and flash my A.A.R.P. card. “Stand aside peons! Tony Calabrese! I’m in the A.A.R.P.”

I can use this card for everything! I’ll get it laminated and put it in it’s own little separate wallet and keep it in my right front pants pocket next to that plastic squeezy thing old men keep their change in.

Then I’ll whip it out like I’m an FBI agent.

“Tony Calabrese, A.A.R.P.”

I’ll be almost like a secret agent for the elderly.

I could be an old person’s super hero.

A.A.R.P. Man!!! Swooping down with long term health insurance and soft food.

I need a cape.

And a walker that shoots Viagra and Celebrex.

I can still be somebody!!!!

“TONY!!!”

“TONY!!! WAKE UP!!!”

“What?”

“You’re thrashing around in your sleep and yelling Ta da!!!”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

“Then you’re an idiot. Where are you going?”

“To the bat cave woman!”

“What?”

“To the bathroom okay?”

“What were you dreaming about?”

“I can’t tell you. I can never reveal my secret identity to my loved ones. I wouldn’t want you to put you in danger.”

“Jesus, why can’t you just go out and buy a Corvette like any other idiot having a midlife crisis? I think you can get a discount on one with that A.A.R.P. card.”

“Maybe I will……maybe I will.”