I See You

Lisa wrote a comment the other day stating that she had been lurking on someone’s blog. Lurking, reading but not commenting, is the equivalent of being a “peeping Tom” in blogland. Admittedly, I have lurked on other blogs and taken a brief walk through a stranger’s thoughts. I'm a pervert...I know. Many times I lurk on a new blog for a few days before I decide whether to leave a comment. Sometimes it takes a few posts to determine if you can relate to someone and their experiences or to figure out their sense of humor. Some bloggers take great offense to this. If you’re going to stop by and read their innermost thoughts, you had better leave a comment. I saw one blogger who wrote a post stating that she knew people were lurking on her blog; that “she had ways of tracking them” and “I know who you are”. I think she was kidding. Well, I hope she was kidding. I wanted to read some of her other posts to figure out if this was just her sense of humor but, after reading that, ummm….no. Besides, she had ways of tracking me.

I have given my blog address to a few people I know who have never commented. Some tell me they read it. Some don’t. Some possibly lurk. I guess if I was curious enough I’d fork out some money to a stat counter program that would provide the name, address, social security number, pet’s name, and favorite brand of toilet paper of everyone who reads my blog. Eh *shrug*...maybe…some day.

Personally, I don’t get offended by lurkers. Some people comment on posts. Some don’t. Maybe they can’t come up with a better response than “Yep” or can’t relate to the situation. If I'm willing to write my thoughts on the internet and not block the URL, then I might as well stand naked in front of the window. An invitation to peep, if you will. So…lurk away. Just do me a favor and don’t all do it on the same day or I’ll think no one likes me anymore ;)

How do you feel about lurkers on your blog?

Covering your Backside

I’m curious…what happened to personal accountability? When did it become obsolete? I must have missed that headline. I really think I would have read an article with the headline, “OK to CYA when you Feck* Up”.

I’ve always been the kind of person to say, “Hey, I made a mistake”. I’ve found that people generally respect that more than the double-talk or outright lies associated with trying to cover your butt. You might get away with double-talk once or twice. If you’re really good at concocting outrageous lies, you might even buy yourself 4 or 5 quick escapes but eventually, the truth becomes apparent. I know you’re covering your butt. You know you’re covering your butt. Can’t we just level with each other?

There’s nothing wrong with admitting you made a mistake. We’re humans. We’re programmed to make mistakes every once in a while. Some of us, obviously, are programmed to do it more often than others. But it’s a fault designed to prevent us from thinking were some type of god to be worshipped by all around us.

Think of how much money and time we would save on government inquiries alone if people would just admit to their mistakes.

“Bill, did you let that intern give you a mouth hug?”
“Yep, I fecked up”

See, it’s so much simpler. Of course, I’m sure Hillary wanted a more detailed explanation but you get my point.

And our personal lives? Think of all the time saved there…. “Honey, did you leave the toilet seat up?” “Yep, I fecked up.” See, no 3 hour argument over how exactly the toilet seat managed to get into the upright position.

And guys, wouldn’t you like to avoid arguments with the girlfriend over why you didn’t call? No more time wasted working on creative answers like “Honey, I had the bird flu last night and couldn’t reach the telephone in my weakened state”. [Sorry, got a little carried away. This might be asking too much].

And at work? If more people would own up to their mistakes at work, I’d have more time to write creative, thought-provoking posts instead of throwing up crap like this. Of course, I'd also be out of a job.

The next time you feel the need to CYA, stop and own up to it. I promise you’ll feel much better. Of course, if you get indicted, divorced, slapped or fired, just remember it was only a suggestion.

*Use of the word feck has been officially licensed to Grant for the remainder of eternity. I borrowed it because I don’t like to use the real word in civilized conversation and I’m not creative enough to come up with my own word. All hail Grant.

Like the rain....

*This began as a post about how I would love to storm chase in the midwest, but I was pulled off on a tangent...enjoy the ride...


It’s getting ready to storm here. It’s been warm and muggy all morning. The kind of weather that flattens your hair and makes your clothes stick to your skin. It’s suddenly gotten a little cooler and the wind has picked up. The clouds have changed from big puffs of cotton to that dark angry appearance.

I love storms. The adventurous side of me loves to stand by the window and watch Mother Nature release her full fury on the earth. If the weather allows, I’ll venture out the front door to the edge of the covered entry to let the wind rush through my hair and feel the rain drops as they hit my skin.

It’s funny how thunderstorms are like our own emotions. Sometimes a soft, short shower to wash away the old and replenish the soil; sometimes a heavy downpour to provide a deeper cleansing; and sometimes a display of the darker side with whipping winds and stinging rain. No matter the type of fury displayed the ending is always the same. The grass is greener, the sky is bluer and there’s a feeling in the air that everything is, again, all right in the world.

Fantasy Interrupted

I’m too tired this morning to compose an appropriate post so you get the story of why eyes are half-shut and my brain is turned off.

I climbed into bed, snuggled against the covers and laid my head on the pillow around 11:30 last night. My mind settled into one of my favorite dreamland fantasies...yeah, uh-huh, right there...mmmm...*BOOM* What the...I was jolted back to reality. *BOOM* It was the sound of one of my neighbors shooting off rounds from what sounded like a shotgun. Or a bazooka. All I know is that it was loud and quite close. *BOOM* The adrenaline started to pump and I was too scared to move. I debated whether to take a look outside or not. Although I live in redneck central it is a bit unusual to hear late night gunshots unless it’s a major holiday. I decided it was best to check it out. At least, if I heard a window break, I would know whether to grab the baseball bat I kept beside the bed or just run like hell. I peeked through the blinds in my bathroom window. Everything looked peaceful. The neighborhood dogs started to bark so I decided to go the garage to have a look out the front. I left the lights off because it's impossible to see out the windows with them on. I looked down the street…nothing. I looked toward the woods…nothing. The dogs were still barking. Not that tongue-waging “I just saw a deer” bark but the “there’s something strange and harmful on my turf and I must protect my master” bark. I held my breath and watched the woods...waiting for some strange animal or maniacal half-human with a machete to emerge. Nothing.

As I stood beside the garage door and peered into the darkness, something behind me scurried. Holy crap! I whipped around, cursing myself for not bringing some form of protection with me...or at least shoes. I searched the darkness for any sign of movement but saw none. Whatever it was, was as frightened by the sound of me as I was of it. Still, IT was between me and the door to the house. I had no choice but to run for it. I took a deep breath and ran as fast as I could while dodging the car and the riding lawn mower. I'm sure I looked as graceful as a moose on roller skates, running at full speed, trying to let only the balls of my feet touch the floor...less chance for whatever made that noise to bite me or run across my feet. I hit the portal of my freedom and slammed the door. The force of it popped open the pantry door and I nearly peed my pants. Well, if I had been wearing pants…

I cursed the neighbors and made a mental note to go to Home Depot to get whatever would kill the thing in the garage. I spent the rest of the night dreaming about the gigantic machete wielding mouse that has taken up residence in my garage.

Would I or Wouldn't I

The male DJs on the radio station I listen to made an interesting statement the other day. It seems that men, regardless of their marital or relationship status, decide within 5 minutes of meeting a woman whether they would have sex with her. They may have no intention of actually acting upon it, but still, they make the distinction of whether they would or would not. One DJ is young and not in a relationship; the other is around my age, divorced and now in a serious relationship so I figured they had a fairly broad spectrum for this analysis.

Being single, I’m sure that, subconsciously, I see every available man as potential dating material but I don’t know that I make an immediate conscious decision about whether I would throw him down on the bed. Obviously, there are some guys that I immediately think, “Mmmm, I’d like to get me some of that”. Some where I think, “I’ll never be that desperate”. And some that float from one category to the other or fall somewhere in between. What was my point? Oh, yeah...I don't think I do this with EVERY guy I meet. Maybe I do and don’t realize it? The more I think about it…maybe I do????

My question to you is this:
Guys – is this true?
Girls – Do you do this too?

Be honest...I won’t think bad of you either way….Really, I won't...I’m just curious ;)

Last Time I Checked It Was My Blog...

Most of you realized that I was being facetious in my last post. I do not own a Sinulator, nor do I plan to own one. Some, however, did not realize that I was being facetious. Evidently, it is considered intelligent to disuss sexual positions and post HNT on your blog but it is a sign of low intelligence to sarcastically discuss emerging technology. Who knew?? In honor of the great overseers of my morality (or immorality depending on your view), I have decided to take the remainder of the week off to work on my submission to Penthouse Forum*.

(This is an example of sarcasm. I'm not really submitting anything to Penthouse...although, there was that one time....)

Ain't Nothin Like the Real Thing, Baby

Warning: The post below should not be read if you are squeamish about discussing sex. Actually if you are squeamish about sex you probably shouldn’t read my blog at all. The website linked below is a little explicit…please be careful at work.


Ladies and Gentlemen, I have solved my dating woes. I no longer need a man as I have found the sinulator. For $139.95 (plus shipping, sales tax and I’m sure a sin tax in some states), the good people at Sinulator will send me a dildo complete with USB hook-up and software. I can create an account for my new rabbit-eared friend (what a great Easter present!) and then anyone who knows my nickname can go in and, ummm, well, er…rev me up. Yes, guys, you control the action! If I don’t want to give my nickname to anyone I know, I can peruse their network and pick up a play mate (why do I keep envisioning Comic Book guy from the Simpsons??). It’s even wireless so I don’t have to sit at the computer to use it. Finally, someone found a way to make casual sex safe. And all these years I’ve been making men take me to dinner first. What the heck was I thinking???!!! If only I had known about this before my date with “the puker”!

You can even take a virtual tour of the dashboard controls. What man wouldn’t enjoy using this? It’s like combining sex with NASCAR and PlayStation. It even has cool “Bawm-chicka-bawm-bawm” porn music.

But wait, I wouldn’t want to leave the men out….
For $129.95, men can buy an interactive sleeve which allows them to control a Sinulator, using their, ummm, er…own thrusting action. NASCAR, PlayStation, porn music and an interactive sleeve….it’s every man’s dream….

But wait, there’s more…
The Sinulator has been rigorously tested (how did I miss that job ad?) and meets FCC Standards so it’s safe for both home and OFFICE use! (I can hear it now… “Excuse me, ma’am, but is your skirt vibrating?”)

Good-bye eharmony…hello Sinulator!

One Frog Down (aka The Puker)

She walked into the restaurant hoping that she was the first to arrive. The restaurant was fairly empty and it was easy to tell that her date was not yet there. She was thankful they had agreed to meet for lunch. It provided an easier escape mechanism in case of false advertising or homicidal tendencies. The door to the restaurant opened and her date appeared. They said hello and hugged. She wondered what it was about first dates that made everyone want to hug. Maybe it was the relief of finally meeting in person, “Oh, thank God you don’t look like a mutant space alien…let’s hug.”

As her friends suspected, he was a little more talkative in person. He explained to her his aversion to mayonnaise. Not only could it not touch anything on his plate but it couldn’t be on her plate either. He didn’t like to smell it. They managed to make strained small talk until the food arrived. When lunch was served she noticed that her date’s tanned skin suddenly started to turn white. He tried not to run over the waitress as he excused himself to the bathroom. She couldn't remember ever making a man physically ill before. It was a first in her book and worthy of notation. “Waitress, can you bring me a beer?” This was definitely an occasion worth celebrating. Her date returned, still a little green, to explain that he had “a few beers” the night before for a friend’s birthday. An experienced drinker herself, she thought "I got tanked" probably would have been a better descriptor. She tried not to hold it against him but it wasn’t the best first impression he could have made.

They tried to find some common ground as they talked. He explained that, at 40, he lived in an apartment with a roommate...not because of a divorce or child support payments but because he still enjoyed the "bachelor pad" lifestyle. He raced off to the bathroom again. When he returned she politely offered to cut the date short but he said he’d be fine so they went on. She had chosen not to tell him about the piece of toilet paper stuck to his chin. He explained that he still "partied like he was 29" and that he didn't expect to give it up any time soon. She wondered if this was the truth or a blow off. Either way, it didn't matter. It saved her from the "I want to get married right away and have lots of babies" speech that she used in these situations. Suddenly, he pushed back from the table and she prepared herself to jump if necessary. She was thankful they had decided to sit outside…if necessary, he could at least lean over the railing. Once again, he raced to the bathroom.

When they parted ways, he said he’d call. She was relieved. One thing she had learned was that “I’ll call you” was international dating code for “don’t expect to hear from me”. It was obvious this one was not yet ready to settle down. Oh well, she thought, that’s one less frog I have to kiss.

As she put on her mascara she thought about him and wondered if this would end like so many that had come before. A pleasant conversation and an invitation to get together again with no intention to follow through. She thought about the pillow-fluffer and his unnatural obsession with a certain decorating store. She thought about the cop who, inside, was still a boy clomping around in his father’s shoes. She thought about the others that had peppered her life along the way; not meant for more than a brief stay. Finally, she thought about the one who had broken her heart. He still meandered through her thoughts now and then. She thought about the laughter they shared and about her tears. Her focus had been on battling past demons and desperately fighting the urge to run…as fast as she could…in the opposite direction. In the heat of battle, she had lost focus of the self she put forth and inadvertently taught him the wrong way to treat her. She alone had tried to change their fate but, in the end, realized the lessons already learned could not be reversed. She had raised the flag and, head hung in defeat, walked off the battlefield. She wondered how much time passed before he noticed the flag as it waved so softly in the wind. She thought about the lesson she had learned, tucked his memory back behind the door and started to walk away. She stopped, turned the key and placed it above the threshold. The door had a nasty habit of popping open at the wrong time and she would not to allow it to happen again today.

Funky Friday

AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!! There. Now I feel better.

In honor of the fact that I'm in a funk mood, I have decided to spare you my funkiness and declare this random question day. Use the comments to ask anything (well, within reason)...the sillier the better...and I will respond.

Things I'm doing this weekend:

1. Get "idiot" tattoo for forehead (Warning: ask why at your own risk)
2. Friday night shopping to relieve funk. I know, but it makes me feel better. Besides maybe I can find something cute to wear on my date...and there's a book I need to buy ;)
3. Long, hot bubble bath with Mr. Cuervo, Mr. Ruiz and my favorite tunes. Who knows...maybe my alter ego will appear and I'll do some tasteful HNT photos.
4. Date with mysterious non-phone-talking man
5. Easter with friends

Have a wonderful weekend. I'd say that I'd hope the Easter Bunny brings you much candy...but, well, Denny curbed his hopping the other day so I think you'll have to buy your own. BYOC Easter...it's just not right!

Do Not Place Your Fingers In the Animal's Mouth

Ok, kiddies, I have a road trip for work today so it’s a short post with lots of randomness for you. Yes, a road trip. No, I am not off looking for HNT. That would be my plan for this afternoon. I’ll try to catch up with everyone later.

Interesting things I’ve heard/read this week:

• “I’ve lost my inner soul man”
• “I went from chicken salad to chicken shit”
• “How do you hold your blogger” (Courtesy of Rick’s commenters). I'm still laughing about that.
• If you follow park rules and do not place your fingers in the animals’ mouths, the chance of injury to you or your vehicle will be greatly reduced (no shit!)
• “You know they won’t let you lay on the mattresses”
• “I’m from Los Angeles motherf**ker, I’ll bust your ass” Hopefully, this link works – scroll down to “v. one leetle story”. I laughed my butt off. (Courtesy of Will)
• NASA to crash probes on moon Am I the only one who thinks this sounds like a crazy waste of money?
  
  Oh! I almost forgot. I have a date on Saturday with a man who is looking for someone to have long conversations with but seems to only want to stay on the phone for 15 minutes. Where do I find these people????
  

Any Soldier

I’m breaking a few of my own rules today. For one, I originally thought I’d post something silly today since yesterday’s post was a little on the heavy side. I don’t like to write heavy posts back to back. It’s depressing. Secondly, I thought I’d never use my blog to promote anything more than someone else’s cool post. As I pushed the garbage can down the driveway last night a helicopter flew over my house and it reminded me of something I said I would do. Forgive me; I’ll try to be silly tomorrow.

Last night I visited a website, anysoldier.com . I scrolled through the list of recent posts for needed items and came across one from a Marine Unit on its second tour. They had already received several care packages and the contact person had posted a thank you for the support. It was the last few lines of his post that caught my eye….

“There are several Marines out here who are barely out of high school – please
pray for their mothers, I know they are worried sick.”

I couldn’t stop the tears as they rolled down my face. I thought about being in a foreign country at 18 years old not for spring break with sand between my toes and a beer in my hand but for something terrifying and surreal. My mind couldn’t process it. I remember when my brother was stationed in Honduras in his early 20s. He was scared, lonely and begging for any news from home…all that while building a bridge during peace time. I remember my grandfather’s stories from WWII. His blue eyes would sparkle and he’d laugh as he’d talk about using chickens for target practice or waving at the pretty girls as they marched through European towns. I also remember the stories my grandmother told about the nightmares he had when he returned.

My great-grandfather and my grandfather were both Army veterans. My mom’s boyfriend was Air Force. My brother was National Guard. And me? Well, I never did anything but question our government. I could, however, go to the store and buy a few packets of kool-aid, some rice krispie treats and a magazine and send them to a soldier who gets little or no mail. I could also pray for his mother.

I haven’t revealed my thoughts on the war and, frankly, I’d prefer not to know yours. That’s not my intention with this blog or this post. I simply wanted to convey my experience while visiting this website.

Lessons Learned

From time to time I use online dating to supplement my social life. Usually it’s because I’ve grown tired of the bar scene and my friends…well, my friends tend to set me up with anyone who is single with little regard to whether I actually have anything in common with that person. Most people get suspicious when their friends fix them up with someone who has a “great personality”. When I hear the words, “he’s perfect for you” chills run down my spine. Actually, some funny stories have come out of that which I’ll post about at some point.

Yesterday someone online asked what I had learned from past relationships. It was an interesting question. I think we take away a little piece of something from each relationship but I don’t think we always realize the lessons we’ve learned.

I’ve definitely learned more about what I want and don’t want in a partner. Ten years ago I would have said that I wanted a good-looking guy with a decent job and nice teeth. Ok…that’s half the population. Now that list has evolved into someone who can make me laugh when I’m having a bad day, can share financial responsibility, is open to compromise and is reliable. Each new relationship adds another definition to the list.

I’ve learned that you teach people how to treat you. If someone repeatedly treats me in an unacceptable manner it’s because I have taught them that it’s acceptable to do so. Looking back on my life, I should have learned this lesson much sooner than I did. It’s funny what faults of our own we put off as the faults of others.

I’ve learned that sometimes you meet the right person at the wrong time. I never used to believe in “timing”. I thought of it as a convenient excuse people used to cover up inadequacies similar to the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech. Honestly, sometimes it’s not you but rather what’s going on in my life and what I need, or think I need, that influences a relationship. I’ve learned that timing can mean just as much as chemistry does to a relationship.

I’ve learned that relationships don’t have to end badly. Life is too short to waste time trying to hurt someone just because things didn’t work out as you had hoped. As a matter of fact, I’m still friends with most of the guys I’ve dated long term.

And I’ve learned that sometimes, when relationships have been patched too many times, you have to walk away to maintain your own sanity.

Friday Randomness

I'm on vacation today. YIPEEE!!! Before I leave town a few words:

1. I left my sunglasses in the car yesterday. Not thinking about the fact it was pretty warm out, I put them on and got a nasty nose burn. Spring is never officially here until I perform this ritual at least once.
2. I think I'm going to like Half-Nekkid Thursday....Thanks to Steve and Rick (I'm not sure how open these 2 are about their half nekkid-ness so I didn't link their sites). I never knew guys posted pics too. Hats off to The Peanut Queen for educating me!

Things I’m looking forward to this weekend:

1. Seeing Mick-Mick and Juanita, my mom away from Mom
2. Driving for 2.5 hours with the sunroof open and my tunes blaring. It’s my favorite way to clear my head.
3. Dinner at Houlihan's
4. Seeing Gretchen Wilson perform. I sooo want her hair!
5. Way too many beers and shots of something that tastes like kool-aid
6. Flirting with young college boys at the bar
7. Sitting on the front porch drinking coffee and talking about life

Hopefully I’ll come back with some interesting stories and lots of pictures. Have a great weekend!

Stolen Post

Since I’ve been very busy at work lately and haven’t had time to write a post (shame on them, don’t they know I have a blog to keep up??), I borrowed this meme from The Peanut Queen. I promise an actual post is coming soon!!

Accent: Typically, I don’t have one but I mimic them very easily. You can usually tell who I’ve been around just by listening to me talk. I have a friend who lived in Italy until he was 10 and then moved to Canada. He has this beautiful Italian accent but everything ends in “eh?”. It’s the weirdest accent you’ve ever heard.

Booze of Choice: No debate, tequila. Jose is my friend.

Chore I hate: Whichever one I did last.

Dog or Cat: Dog. Cats are conditional with their love. I'm too dysfunctional to handle that.

Essential Electronics: Cell phone, computer… I’m seeing the need for an iPod in the near future.

Favorite Perfume: Rapture by Victoria’s Secret. Years ago, I got into an elevator with another girl and a guy (that sounds like the start of a porno, doesn’t it???). The girl had tried the perfume on at lunch and the guy could not stop talking about how wonderful it smelled. I’ve worn it ever since.

Gold/Silver: Either, it depends on what color my hair is at the time.

Hometown: Farmersville, Ohio (stop laughing – I’m not making this up!)

Insomnia: Only at night. Seriously, I’ll drag my exhausted body to bed and then lay there for 2 hours watching the ceiling fan.

Job Title: Project Manager but I’m starting to think it should be Opener of the Can of Worms. At least once a week I hear, “you know you opened a can of worms…”. Yeah, well I can open it now or let it explode all over you later.

Kids: I’ll post about this sometime. Until very recently, I had no doubts about wanting a child. Now I’m starting to wonder if I really want to raise a teenager in my early 50s. Selfish, I know.

Living Arrangements: Me, myself and I

Most Admired Trait: It’s actually 2 things. I listen to what others have to say. People love it when you let them talk. Secondly, I give good advice.

Number of Sexual Partners: Since this is on the internet, let’s just say enough to know what I’m doing but not so many that I can’t learn a thing or two.

Overnight Hospital Stays: I had mono in high school and was in the hospital for a week. I finally threatened to stop eating until they sent me home. A person can only eat chicken broth, mashed potatoes and lime jello for so long. Why do they always give you lime jello? Do they not know there are other flavors?

Phobia: Where to begin….Angelina Jolie’s lips (what is in those things????), flying bugs, getting to the end of my life and saying “I wish I would have…”

Quote: I can’t remember if this is supposed to be something I say or something from someone famous so I’ll give one of mine. “Everyone is dysfunctional to some degree. Whether you see it or not depends on how well they hide it.”

Religion: I believe in God. I don’t believe you have to go to church every week. I think it’s about how you live your life not about how many Sundays you can make it to a specific location.

Siblings: One older brother

Time I Wake Up: It just depends on how many times I hit the snooze button. Anywhere between 5:30 and 6:15.

Unusual Talent or Skill: Umm, I can’t think of anything that’s not x-rated. Wait, I seem to make all the men I date disappear within a few months. Does that count?

Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Cauliflower. I personally think God had a bet with someone…. “HA! They ate it! You owe me 5 bucks!”

Worst Habit: Smoking, lack of patience, over analyzing my life…take your pick.

Xrays: Most recently my foot. I don’t know what happened. It involved 2 pitchers of margaritas at Dos Copas. I woke up the next morning, moved my foot and screamed out in pain.

Yummy Food I Make: I make a killer roast. I’ve been told I make good potato salad. I have a recipe for chocolate bread pudding with caramel icing that I’m dying to try out.

Zodiac Sign: Are you kidding me?? Capricorn. Horny goat…it figures doesn’t it?

Aint No Sunshine...

Usually, at the time I wake up, even the chickens are still asleep. Warm, cozy, still snoozing in their little chicken beds. I envy those sleeping chickens. It's against this human's nature to have to crawl out of bed before the sun even appears in the sky 5 days a week. Last week was so enjoyable. Each morning I woke up to find the sunlight pouring through my bedroom window. I was excited. I didn’t mind getting out of bed to see what the day held for me. Finally, I was getting out of bed later than the freakin chickens!

When the alarm went off this morning, I opened my eyes to find that my sunshine was gone. I rolled over and took out my frustration on the poor alarm clock. I went to the kitchen and stood there…watching the coffee brew. It took a few minutes to realize that I could actually pick up the coffee pot and pour a cup before it finished brewing. Not a good sign. Once again, I cursed the chickens as I put on my make-up. To make things worse, it had started to rain. The thunder and lightning only made me wish I was back in bed…under the covers…the way a thunderstorm should be enjoyed.

I decided I couldn’t deal with work in my still sleepy state and went to have a smoke. I walked toward the door wondering if daylight savings was still necessary. I’m sure it was pertinent when Ben Franklin conceived the notion but did it really still apply today? I mean if you really need an extra hour of light each day couldn’t YOU just get up an hour earlier and let the rest of US maintain our schedules? What is this…a show of solidarity? 'Cuz I’d like to opt out. I took a hit off my cigarette and started to feel a little better. Suddenly, I was blinded by a bright white light so close that I took a step back out of sheer instinct. Then I smelled something burning. Crap! I’ve been hit by lightning! Funny, I felt ok. Wait…Oh, yeah…the cigarette. After I regained my composure, I had to laugh at the irony. I guess old Ben's a little sensitive about the whole issue.