2014: #It Could Have Been Worse

What can you say about the year of our Lord 2014?

The year started off with a "Polar Vortex" which means "cold weather" which apparently happens in "the winter". This cold weather led to a Snowpocalypse Event in the Atlanta area and caused the mother of all traffic jams. There are some people still in this traffic jam.

Your humble correspondent's commute from work, which is usually 20 minutes, took 9 hours. The need for voiding his bladder began 8 and half hours into this commute. When he finally made it home, he went to see the most important person in his life:  his toilet.

What the Polar Vortex proved was this: if ISIS ever gets an ice making machine, the Atlanta area is screwed.

Speaking of ISIS,  I don't ever remember hearing about this group of thugs in 2013. They spent much of 2014 cutting off people's heads which caused the Obama administration to leap into action after they read about it in the papers.

In 2014, we did hear a lot about people who are a definite threat to freedom: Florists who refuse business to Gay Weddings.  We also heard a lot about the Kardashians, who, in case you do not know, have big rear ends. Their step dad, Olympic great Bruce Jenner, is divorcing their mom and trying to become an ugly old woman.

In 2014, many famous people won awards but I can't remember who they were. I went to one movie at the theater this year: The Penguins of Madagascar. The only new song I remember liking the first time I heard it was "Sweet Amarillo" by Old Crow Medicine Show. The song was taken from a Bob Dylan outtake 42 years ago.

In 2014, I was very glad that I did not have a four year old girl or I would have watched Frozen a lot.

I am so glad I've never seen this

In 2014, The Republicans won the Senate, kept control of the House and won a majority of the statehouses. The President responded by basically flipping a bird and granting Amnesty to people who knowingly broke the law and/or don't even care that there is a law.  The basic rationale is: There are so many people "living in the shadows" (really?) that we just might as well make them legal to show them that we are not racists.

In 2014, the 2016 Presidential race became clearer when Jeb (Not Another) Bush has declared that he might/maybe/probably will run for the Republican nomination, if he feels okay about it. Right now he is leading in the polls, although polls right now should be called "Hey, have you heard of this guy?"

Look, sure we're brothers, but it is not like I see him that much

In 2014, Hillary Clinton became a grandmother and also wrote a book that nobody wanted to read.

Speaking of Frozen

In Sports, The Seattle Seahawks won The Super Bowl. Derek Jeter retired from The Yankees. The 2013 Heisman Trophy winner shoplifted some lobsters. Lebron James decided to move back to Cleveland, which has to be a first. Donald Sterling got into trouble for talking nasty to his hoochie girl.

The big medical news in 2014 was Ebola, which is either very, very very, very, very, very, very serious or nothing to worry about.

Two planes disappeared this year. Justin Bieber is still making news. An intruder runs across The White House front lawn and manages to get inside. The TV show "24" was shown in 13 hours.

In "They Mean Well" news, people in 2014 poured buckets of ice water on their heads in order to challenge other people to do the same OR to contribute to a charity to fight ALS.  How exactly this was suppose to cure ALS was not really explained, but hey, it is the thought that counts.

People went Hashtag crazy in 2014. In the old days (2007) the Hashtag (#) was called "the pound sign". Now all of us old people are going Hashtag crazy. Particularly on Facebook where a friend will post a picture of a yacht they just bought and post "The Lord provided us with the means to buy this luxurious yacht and we are going to sail around world making Jesus famous. #blessed". What this post really means is "God likes me better than you because I'm cool. #noteverybodycanbechosen"

In personal news, 2014 saw the son move back home, get a job, and become engaged. He is also buying his own gas and paying off his student loan, which means we must have done something right. #Blessed.

An Inconvenient Christmas

I can honestly say I have had some awful jobs in my life.

I had a temp job once. For an entire week, my job was to put twist ties in boxes of plastic garbage bags.  It is not as exciting as it sounds.

I was also a high school substitute teacher. Now that is a terrible job.

One, the teachers don't really have anything to do with you except when they need someone to babysit  substitute. Two, the kids think it is party time.

One time I was substituting in a class and I heard a girl exclaim, "EW GROSS!" A young man then raised his hand and said, "Mr. Manis, do you know what (the technical term for a particular sexual act which I am too chicken to write) is?"

For once, I said the right thing.  I said, "Yes, I know what it is, but it would be better for you to discuss this with your parents."  I should have been put into the Substitute Teachers Hall of Fame right then and there.

The last time I ever substituted, it was the last day for Seniors to attend class. I was subbing in a home room of Seniors, that were SO READY TO GET OUT OF HERE, MAN. One guy, in fact said that: "Man, I am so ready to get out of here."   I said something deep like, "Yeah".  He continued, "I failed four times".  I asked, "How old are you?"   He said, "Twenty-two".  I was twenty four.

The worst job I ever had was working in a convenience store at Christmas time. A lot of people in retail complain about working at Christmas time. I can assure you that working at Christmas time in a convenience store, particularly in a small town, is truly the pits.

One year, I drew the short straw and had to work the worst shift in the invention of work. The graveyard shift. 11:00pm Christmas Eve to 7:00am Christmas Day.

This is the shift that gets the REALLY last minute shoppers. Also, and this may come as a surprise, but  there are many who celebrate the birth of our Lord by getting drunk.

Around midnight,  a guy came in who was already three sheets in the wind. He placed his beer, (like he needed it) near the cash registrar, and began telling me and everyone who happened to be in the store, a long story, in graphic detail, about his love life. He was a local and his wife worked at the bank where I had an account and I saw her every Friday when I deposited my check   I could never look at the lady again.

At around 1:30, all of the customers were gone, except for one guy.  He was at the magazine rack

This little store did not sell magazines. It sold pornography. Some of the filthiest, nastiest publications ever printed. Playboy was probably the cleanest magazine we sold, aside from The Auto Trader. I can't remember all of the titles of the magazines, but one was called Boobs and Buns. It was a boutique publication for a niche audience. 

So there I was, at 1:30 on Christmas morning with a person with some obvious spiritual/psychological problems when this older man walked in.

You know the type of old man that thinks you need to hear what ever floats into his brain? Yup, that was this old guy. What he was doing out at 1:30 on a Christmas morning, I have no idea, although I have a strange feeling alcohol was somehow involved.

This guy talked and talked and talked. None of it raised above the level of inane. Soon, he showed me what he got for Christmas. It was a carton of cigarettes still wrapped in the Christmas wrapping paper. There was a problem. It wasn't his brand. He asked if he could exchange it.  I did, hoping/praying that he would go away. He did.

I looked at the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. The guy was still at the magazine rack. He looked at his watch, said, "Oh", put down his porn and walked out the door. Time flies when you are looking at porn.

I thought about what a sorry Christmas I was having. Everybody else was asleep in their beds while I was with these two losers. Then I remembered why we were having a Christmas in the first place.

 

The World Premier of A New Christmas Song

Today's focus is on Christmas music. There are two types of Christmas music: The sacred and the secular.

Sacred Christmas music is what is sung in churches and is usually about the actual birth of Christ. However, some songs are kind of strange, like "Good King Wenceslas", which is not about Christ per se, but it does show a Good King motivated by his faith to help those less fortunate than himself on The Feast of Stephen, which we didn't celebrate in our house.

It is usually hard to mess up a Sacred Christmas song. Even Bob Dylan did okay on "The Little Drummer Boy".

I know, I know. There are two types of people in the world: People who think Bob Dylan is the greatest living songwriter/musician and those people who are not clinically insane.

Secular Christmas music is a mess, in my opinion.

In the past, I have criticized the secular Christmas songs because they usually fall into two categories: 1) Made up crap about Santa  or 2) Let's use Christmas to beg for sex.

I'm not against people having sex. I'm definitely pro-sex, ask my wife (especially on my birthday, yeah come on). But, it seems like there are a lot of songs that are begging people to have sex, or as we said in the 70's: "do it".

Like "Winter Wonderland". Honestly, find one mention of Christmas in that song. It doesn't even mention the month of December. "Winter Wonderland" could take place in Minneapolis in February for all we know.

Then there is all of that "conspire" by the fire nonsense.

I went to Wheeler High School in the mid-70's. The boys of Wheeler knew which girls would "conspire" and which girls would not "conspire".  It was a topic of constant conversation in December.

Friend: "Dude, I went to Janie's house and we conspired by the fire. Dude."

Me:  "Dude. How was it? Dude."

Friend: "Dude. It was awesome. Merry and bright. Dude."

Me: "Dude."

The Boys of Wheeler, 1975 (as we saw ourselves)

As the conversation shows, we knew what was going on in that Christmas song. By the way, what really happened most of the time was instead of actual 70's teenage sex, it was the guy and girl watching The Six Million Dollar Man with her parents.

But I'm not the kind of guy to just criticize. Nope, I'm going to try to come up with a solution. Particularly a solution that could make me a lot of money. So I decided to write my very own secular Christmas song.

This is problematic. For one, I have the musical ability of a cocker spaniel. Secondly, I couldn't think up any new crap about Santa Claus. He lives on Santa Claus Lane and he's coming to town. He sees you when you are sleeping and knows if your awake. He's our personal NSA.

I decided to write a country Secular Christmas song. I can just imagine Merle Haggard or Kenny Chesney singing this. (But not Florida-Georgia Line. I have my standards.) I have come up with the lyrics and I'm asking those of you out there in blog land to come up with the music. It is called I Didn't Get What I Wanted For Christmas.

I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas,

Just a sorry silent night.

My comfort and joy

Ran off with the little drummer boy.

Santa, that just ain’t right.

I’ve been a good boy all year

You can tell by the presents I gave.

It just don’t make no sense:

I gave her gold, myrrh and frankincense

And I got Old Spice aftershave.

I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas,

Just some sorry silver bells.

Frosty and Rudolph,

Said they’re taking the season off

And Santa might as well.

I’d wish me a Merry Christmas

And a Happy New Year.

But my stocking's got a lump of coal

And it is too warm for snow

And I drunk up all of my holiday cheer.

I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas

Just a sorry silent night.

O little town of Bethlehem,

What is wrong with them?

Santa, it just ain’t right.


I know that brought a tear to your eye. Now if you can write some music to it, maybe it can bring a dollar to both of our pockets. Dude.

Whooooooo Named The Owls?

By this time next year, my beloved Alma Mater, Kennesaw State University (Motto: "Down The Street From The Cracker Barrel") will have completed their first full season of collegiate football. A lot of people think a college is defined by high academic standards. This is nonsense. A college is defined by: 1) Having a football team and 2) If the football team is any good.  

It is basic good old fashion common sense. Nobody wears a t-shirt bragging about a college's English department.

One question that has dogged historians through the ages regarding Kennesaw State athletics is this: Why are they called "The Owls"? The answer should be obvious: all of the cool nicknames were taken (like Bulldogs and Yellow Jackets).  However, using my crack BA in History skills I learned at Kennesaw State (I will always remember my graduation day. "Here's your degree, Mr. Manis, now wipe off that table, we are expecting a party of five.")  I am going to reveal not only the circumstances but also the person who named The Kennesaw State Owls.

It was Dan Jones.

I know a lot of you are thinking: "Who?", but if I said, "Danny Jones"  a lot of you would still say "Who?" but a lot of you would say "Oh yeah, Danny Jones".

Danny is a guy I've known almost as long as I've known my wife which is saying something. He was in my third grade class at East Valley Elementary School and his dad was the first football head coach of The Wheeler Wildcats. Danny is truly a scholar, gentleman, myth and legend. He is also the only eight year old I've ever seen that could play the ukelele.

Danny is also important because he can verify the existence of a girl named Vicki Hill. Vicki was a girl I knew who I casually suggested to my wife that we name our baby after. As you might expect, that suggestion was not greeted with much enthusiasm. To quote my beloved, "I am NOT going to name MY BABY after some girl YOU had the HOTS  for."  Fortunately, we had a son.

Somewhere in the 70's, I heard Danny say that he named the Kennesaw Owls. Why that stuck in my head instead of the millions of hours of education instruction I've received is a mystery and probably one of the reasons I'm not stinking rich. So on the eve on Kennesaw State's inaugural  season, I decided to reach out to Danny via Facebook

Danny confirmed what I remembered. He says, "My Mom was (the) Exec Sec (Executive Secretary) for the first President of Kennesaw State. She came home one day and asked me to look through my coloring books and see if there was a good "animal" in there for the school to use. (I guess they weren't putting a whole lot of time in on this task. "Ask your kid. Let him decide." Now there's a high priority for you.) By the way, I was still at an appropriate age to have coloring books. 13, 14... something like that. I thumbed through a favorite book and, well, dang, there was an owl, with one of those "professor hats" on. How about this, Mom? I am pretty sure they used the picture out of the coloring book for a good while."

Danny concludes by saying "(Disclaimer: I could be wrong about all of this. It is simply a story that is told around the family fire each Christmas, handed down from generation to generation.)"  

This historian believes this story.  Danny's mom did work for President Sturgis (the first President of Kennesaw State), who was the type of guy, from my limited exposure to him, that would ask an eight year old to name a college mascot. Danny knew Vicki Hill. Danny played a pretty mean ukelele for a third grader. What more evidence do you need?

 

The Y'alls Of Attraction

Wikipedia describes Kim Kardashian as "an American television and social media personality, socialite, fashion designer, businesswoman, model, and actress". You might describe her using other words, like "ditz".

This was the only picture on the internet where she is wearing clothes

Ms. Kardashian, who is married to Rap Singer/Brain Surgeon Kayne West, has recently "broken" the internet by, now get this, posing nude in a couple of photographs. Imagine: nude women on the internet; who would have thought it?

Before you ask, the answer is yes. Purely in the interest of journalism, I have seen these two pictures. Verdict: It is not as hideous as John and Yoko Ono Lennon's  pictures from 45 years ago. You see both sides of Kim, if you catch my drift. One photo emphasizes her rather large behind. It is truly a Gluteus Maximus.  The second picture proves Kardashian has a rather skilled surgeon.

I guess it is because I am old or getting there, that I don't find Kardashian all that interesting. But some folks think she hung the moon (no pun intended).

I have always wondered what makes some people "hot" and others not.

Years ago, when my son was in middle school, we went to a party for other middle school students. The dads stayed in one room of the house, discussing all of the important topics, like rec league baseball and if that guy that was a jerk the year before (and the year before that and the year before) was going to be a jerk this year. (Answer: Of course.)

Meanwhile, the moms retired to another room and discussed another topic: Which movie star do you find sexy?

Now one thing you have to know about the moms: they are all "y'all girls". A "Y'all Girl" is a female indigenous to the South that use the word "Y'all" as part of Southern Female Parliamentary Procedure to indicate that they have the floor in the conversation. Generally it goes like this:  (First Female) "Y'all I just bought the cutest dress at Wal-Mart." (Second female) "Y'all I hate goin' to Wal-Mart." (Third Female) "Y'all. I met my third ex-husband at Wal-Mart" and so on for about two hours.

The first mom, who in the interest of privacy I'll call Susan, said "Y'all, I think Kurt Russell is sexy." The second mom, who just to pick a name out of the sky I'll call Kelly, said, "Y'all, I just love Val Kilmer" (like I said this was years ago).

A third mom said, "Y'all, you know who is really sexy? Bobby Murphy".  Bobby was this mom's husband. I wished the first two moms had said, "Y'all I want to change my vote to Bobby Murphy" because that would have been funny.  The fourth mom, who I'll call Lori because she is the love of my life said, "Y'all I think Johnny Depp is sexy". 

Johnny Depp.

My wife would never let my hair do this

I have known my wife since 1967 and had been married to her since 1986 and I never heard her say one word, pro or anti-sexy about Johnny Depp. I have heard her opinions on just about everyone else, including the artist that is currently known as Prince ("He looks like he smells") When I questioned her about it she said, "Now don't be jealous of Johnny Depp".

I am not jealous of  Johnny Depp. True, I'm jealous of his money and that someone from Kentucky can waltz around like he was raised on Champs Elysees, but other than that I have no real big beef with Johnny Depp.

I just don't see him as very sexy. I can understand Kurt Russell. I mean, he was the computer who wore tennis shoe and Wyatt Earp in Tombstone, probably one of the most under-rated movies of all time. Val Kilmer was Batman and in Top Gun, too, so I can understand that even though he has kind of gone to seed. Even Bobby Murphy (who, in the interest of complete disclosure, I have shared a bed with. Long story.)

I guess I can see, particularly after I've seen the pictures, how someone can think Kim Kardashian is sexy if you are into nekkid surgically altered dimwits.

For the record, Lori has informed me that she no longer finds Johnny Depp sexy.  I'm afraid to ask about Bobby Murphy.

"We're Just Not That Into You, Mr. President"

Speaking for all Georgians, I know I can say nobody was looking forward to another month and a half of attack campaign ads.

Except for me, of course. I already had another Humor Me attack ad parody in the can.

(Black and White picture of David Perdue.) Deep voice over narrator: "David Perdue. Just the name makes my skin crawl. David Perdue. You make me sick". Slightly higher voice over narrator: "Paid for by People Who David Perdue Makes Sick."

(Black and White picture of Michelle Nunn) Deep voice over narrator. "Michelle Nunn. You tramp." Slightly higher voice narrator: "Paid for by The Committee That Think Michelle Nunn is a Tramp".

But all that is over now, Baby Blue. Mercifully, Georgians decided not to drag the election out any further and elected David Perdue.

Despite what everyone in the media has said, I thought Michelle Nunn was a horrible candidate. Nothing about her said GEORGIA except her maiden name, which she conveniently decided to use. She didn't have an accent. She was only shown in blue jeans once. She looked like a librarian walking over to shush you. All Perdue had to do to win was tie Nunn to President Obama, which he was happy to do. Turns out all the Republicans had to do was this: tie Democrats to a President that is as popular as month old bread.

With just a few exceptions, voters around the country went with the Rs instead of the Ds.  Even Maryland, who has had only two Republican governors in 50 years (one of them being Spiro Agnew) elected a Republican Governor.  It was just a good night to be a Republican.  It was a not so good night for Democrats.

There were many reasons. One is historical, usually by the sixth year of a Presidential term, voters grow weary of the President and his party. 1938, 1958, 1974, 1986, 2006 all bear this out. However, the main reason is this: Barack Obama.

The President is just no longer with it, hip, cool, or groovy. He's a flip phone in a world of iPhones. He's as fashionable as a Nehru jacket.

Last week,  Organizing For America started a cutting edge trending topic on Twitter: #Yeswedid. It was tweets full of charts and twitter jargon to share with those blockheads (clinging to their guns and Bibles) who just don't realize due to their own racism, lack of intelligence, homophobia (pick one or all) that the President has done this great job.  I'm sorry, #Yeswedid was just so 2009.

No honest person blames Barack Obama for The Great Recession. However, honest people can disagree about the recovery. You may say the economy is great. I can say it hasn't been anything but lame. You can show me a chart. I can show you my bank book. I think Tuesday shows most of America agrees with me. And, that doesn't make me or America racist, stupid, or homophobic.

While we are at it, can we officially declare "The War on Women" over?

Of course, the press wanted to hear from the President that he and his party got stomped and stomped good. They wanted to hear some vestiges of humility from President Obama which is like trying hear some vestiges of honesty from Richard Nixon. You would think somebody who started 2003 in the Illinois legislature and began 2009 in The White House would be smart enough to at least feign he was humbled by the results.

That is not our President. He basically gave the country the middle finger and pretended that the election didn't matter and this election didn't "have consequences". He announced he was going to circumvent Congress by giving defacto amnesty to illegal aliens. That might have worked in 2011, but it is not going to work in 2015.

For a guy that claims to love Bob Dylan so much, he seems to have missed the lyrics to one of Dylan's famous songs, The Times They Are A-Changin'.  Dylan says, "You better start swimming or you'll sink like a stone".  The Bard of Hibbing was saying you have to adapt in the world. The Democrats have been crowing about that for a couple of years saying that Republicans need to get on the right side of history and change with the times.

As someone else would have sang, "Isn't it ironic?" that the Democrats didn't adapt to 2014 because they still thought it was 2012.

One In The Spirit

Today's topic is Baptists versus Catholics, but first, a little personal historical perspective.

As everyone knows, I was born on the second floor of Kennestone Hospital in Marietta, Georgia in 1959. In 1959, Marietta was considered a far out exurb of Atlanta. By 1972, that began to change and change fast. Marietta became one of the fastest growing suburbs of Atlanta. Ground zero for this growth was the area I lived in known as East Cobb.

Before 1972, the people that moved to East Cobb were mainly from the Midwest. The differences between someone from the  Midwest and someone from the South are slight. We say "y'all" and they say "you guys". For some reason, all of the Ohioans I met pronounced "Wash" as "Wersh". They drive better in the snow than we do.

However, in 1972, the people that began moving to East Cobb were from the Northeast. The real Yankees. The people that were not the typical Southern mutt mixture of Scotch-Irish. The folks were of a definite ethnicity: primarily Italian.

I was in eighth grade when a girl named Lynn was brought to a class I was in. The teacher stumbled over her name (which ended in a vowel). Lynn corrected her and she had a heavy Boston- Pahk the cah(r) in Hahvuhd Yahd-accent. I remember looking at her thinking "I've heard about these people but I've never seen one before".

One thing all of these people had in common was that they were all Catholics. Before then I had known maybe three Catholics. Now they were everywhere. My brother told me that Catholics came in Masses and I believed him.

Now let's explore some of the differences between Catholics and my denomination, The Southern Baptist Convention.

Title of  Clergy

Catholics: "Father"

Baptists: "Brother (first name)" or "Brother (last name)" or "Dr" if they somehow got a doctorate from an accredited seminary or if  the seminary sounds accredited.


Baptism 

Catholics: Sprinkling babies

Baptists: Dunking kindergartners and then redunking them in high school after they have their first beer.


Dancing 

Catholics:  It is okay to dance as long you leave room for The Holy Spirit.

Baptists: Dancing leads to sex, even with married couples, and therefore, should be avoided. (However, I will say every Southern Baptist girl I knew when I was young could really boogie.)


Social Drinking

Catholics: Yes, please.

Older Baptists: NO! NO! NO! NOT UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPEND ETERNITY WITH LUCIFER AND SOME OF HIS LESSER KNOWN IMPS

Not As Old Baptists: It is okay unless you cause your brother to stumble and you wouldn't want that on your conscience now would we?

Young Baptists: Yes, please.


Of course there are many other doctrinal differences that I'm in no way qualified to discuss. However, there is one area of agreement: There is a God who loves us and sent his Son to die for us. God is interested in us and doesn't abandon us even though there are times when it seems he does.

Once during the initial stages of my wife's breast cancer journey, I was driving home in the typical Georgia December rain and I thought about 1 Corinthians 13: 12.  "For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."  I burst into tears, which I never do. My brother had died seven months before and there I was facing the possibility that something bad could happen to my wife. But that verse gave me comfort because  "I am fully known" by the creator of the universe.

I have a friend that was a part of the Great Northern Migration to East Cobb. She said that a boy came up to her at school and said she was a Yankee that was going to Hell because she was a Catholic. His grandmother told him.  My grandmother never told me any such a thing and neither did my mother or father.

This friend has helped me pray my son into his first job and I've prayed for her daughter to escape a corporate downsizing, which she did. My friend lights a candle. I mention it during prayer and praise in Sunday School. God listens and he doesn't mind that we don't go to the same church.