Doubling Down On Fast Food Wages

Yesterday, thousands of fast-food workers around the country walked off of their jobs in  hopes of securing higher wages. The workers are pushing the fast-food industry to raise the minimum wage to $15 per hour. The minimum wage is currently $7.25 while the average fast-food worker currently makes about $9 per hour.

So the big question......Do the workers have a legitimate argument? Or are they just being ridiculous?

Let's face it, flipping burgers at McDonalds was not intended to be a long-term career. At one time, fast-food jobs were largely reserved for high school students and acted as an introductory path into the workforce. These jobs were often the initial step in building work ethic and giving youngsters a sense of responsibility However, they were never intended to provide the necessary income to support a family.

But things have changed a bit......

Somewhere in the past 10-15 years, we've seen a shifting trend where more adults are now asking the familiar question, "Would you like fries with that?". So, why is this? Could it be because the economy is struggling and decent paying jobs just aren't out there? Or could it be because people are lazy and don't want to put forth the effort that's usually required to secure a more lucrative career? Perhaps it's just easier to demand that their current employer fork over a bigger paycheck.

For argument's sake, let's look at one scenario. Let's say that we have a 30-year-old high-school dropout who has been working at Burger King for ten years. Let's also say that he has done nothing to improve his value to the company (or the overall job market) over those past ten years. Is it reasonable for him to now demand to have his salary doubled? What has he done to earn it? In today's competitive marketplace, simply showing up for work everyday just doesn't cut it.

One of the arguments from the striking workers is that revenues are up roughly 13% in the fast-food business. They feel that some of this revenue should be passed onto employees. I can understand that logic. After all, it is the worker bees who keep the honey flowing.

But on the other side, many feel that these latest wage demands are the result the ever-growing sense of entitlement in today's society. The hypothetical McDonald's worker feels that he should have his salary doubled simply because he deserves it. After all, his neighbor is making $15 an hour. So, why shouldn't he?

And let's not ignore that there is at least some union interest in these latest walkouts. From what I understand, the Service Employee's International Union has been providing financial support and training for local organizers.

No doubt, the issue of minimum wage can be a sensitive subject. Who can't sympathize with the single mother who works double shifts at Micky D's to make ends meet. Trust me, if I could wave a magic wand and make everyone rich, I's be more than happy to do it. Unfortunately, the business world does not run of good intentions.

I'm sure opinions will vary, but here are some random statistics to consider:

• The fast-food industry is a $200 billion business
• Today, only 16% of fast-food workers are teenagers. A decade ago, the number was 25%.
• Almost half of fast-food employees over the age of 25 have at least some college education. Roughly 750,000 have Bachelor's Degrees (or higher).
• Only about 5% of fast-food workers earn minimum wage.
• 90% of salaried restaurant workers (including managers and owners) started off as hourly employees
• The restaurant industry is the nation's second largest private sector employer. McDonald's trails only Walmart and IBM when it comes to the most overall employees in the US.

So, let's assume that the workers get their way and the minimum wage does indeed increase to $15. What will the impact be? The additional labor costs will have to be made up somewhere. If the restaurants decide to trim the work force in an effort to offset these costs, the workers could actually be shooting themselves in the foot. At the very least, the costs will be passed onto the consumer. Could the Dollar Menu soon be a thing of the past?

Here's the way that I see it. When you take a job, the working conditions and wages are already established. Perhaps they're not ideal. But if they are that undesirable, there's a simple solution: Look for better job! In my younger years, some of my jobs included cleaning up banquet halls, mopping floors at Rite-Aids, working on construction sites in 100 degree heat and working crazy hours in a loud, dust-filled factory. I made little more than minimum wage on any of these jobs. Was I happy? Hell, no! That's why I moved on and pursued a more desirable (and better paying) career.

Flipping burgers is not what most of us would consider a dream job. And that's exactly why most people choose not to make a career out of it. But if the starting salary increases to over $30,000 a year, things could certainly change......

kw

The American Media - The Ultimate Race Hustler?

Almost immediately after Trayvon Martin was killed by George Zimmerman, the media began running with the story of the "white-Hispanic" who killed the "innocent black teen". The initial media reports painted a picture of Zimmerman as an aggressive racial-profiler who stalked Martin and ultimately shot him to death. There was even evidence of the media recklessly editing Zimmerman's 911 call to suggest that he was targeting Martin because he happened to be black.  Although there was never any proof that race was a factor in Trayvon Martin's death, the news sources were relentless in trying to brainwash the American public that it was. Knowing that this story would get the attention of race hustlers like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, the media knew that they could create racial tensions that could snowball into even more headline-grabbing stories for months to come.

Of course, George Zimmerman was eventually found not guilty of the 2nd degree murder charge and the media quietly gathered up their toys and went home. But why did they stop there? It's not like there is any shortage of outrageous crimes involving people of different races. For instance, we recently learned of the beating death of 88-year old Delbert Belton. Mr. Belton, a World War II veteran, was beaten to death with a flashlight by two black teens during an attempted robbery. Compared to the Trayvon Martin case, it got very little media attention. I don't know about you, but I find it pretty outrageous that a 88-year old WWII hero had his life end in such a senseless way.

If the media wanted a sensational story, I think this one had quite a bit of potential. Here's a decorated WWII veteran who bravely fought for our freedom overseas only to be senselessly beaten to death over a few dollars right here in America decades later. And since the media likes to stir racial tensions, they could add to the mix that the attackers were black. But, for some reason, there is no mention of the story on the front pages of the so-called "credible" news sources.

But what if........

Imagine for a minute that Mr. Belton has been carrying a gun (that's right, I said the "G" word!) when he was brutally assaulted. Imagine just for a minute that he was able to pull out that gun and stop the assault by putting a bullet into each of the attackers. Do you think then the story would have gotten a little more coverage? Or better yet, would the media have painted the 88-year-old WWII vet as a bitter racist who only shot the two teens because they happened to be black? Hmmm, has a familiar ring to it, doesn't it?

Of course, the brutal killing of Mr. Belton is just one of several recent race-related crimes that that the media has chosen to ignore (these were all pulled from local newspapers). If the mainstream media wants to fill some air space, here are a few ideas:

• This past Sunday, a 71-year old white man was sitting in a New Haven, Connecticut park eating his lunch. He was confronted by 35-year old, Jorge DelaPaz and told that "he shouldn't be in a park where black kids are playing". DelaPaz then proceed to punch the 71-year-old in the face multiple times.
• Also on Sunday, a 32-year-old Pittsburgh woman was brutally beaten by three teenage girls after they hit her car with a bottle. Along with beating the woman, the teens also robbed her. The woman happened to be white while all three teens were black. Oh, I almost for got to mention that the teens were shouting racial slurs as they kicked the woman's ass. Hate crime? You're kidding, right? Nothing to see here people, let's move along.....
• Last week in Oklahoma, an Australian baseball player was shot and killed while jogging. There were three teens involved, two black and one white. The shooter is said to have been black. The reason the teens gave for killing the man? They were bored. The "outrageous factor" was only good enough to get a day or two of news coverage.
• And perhaps the most blatant example of selective journalism takes us back to a horrific incident in 2007. In this case, two white teens from Tennessee were carjacked by five blacks.The teen victims (Channon Christian and Christopher Newsome) were taken to a house where they were repeatedly raped and tortured. After the thugs poured bleach down Channon's throat, they attempted to snap her neck. When this didn't kill her, the group hog-tied her and put her in a trash bag where she eventually suffocated. After being forced to helplessly watch his girlfriend endure this brutal assault, Christopher was then made to walk naked to a remote area of railroad tracks where he was raped and then set on fire. As disturbing as the details were in this case, there was hardly any mention of the story by the media. Absolutely mind-boggling!

Like most people, I feel outraged when anyone is brutally attacked in a senseless act of violence. But the mainstream media doesn't appear to feel the same way. They tend to be reluctant to run a story where the victim is white and the assailants happen to be black. Why? Are they themselves afraid of being labeled racist for pointing out that blacks (along with every other race) do indeed commit crimes? Or is this a case of "white guilt", in which the liberal media feels the need to "even the score" for past years of black oppression in this country? 

By consistently failing to report these "newsworthy" stories, the American media continues to fuel a perception that only blacks can be crime victims. This creates exaggerated anger in the black community, while at the same time, it frustrates whites as they often feel like they're in no-win situation if they voice their opinion.

In my opinion, these selective reporting habits by the media create a tension that impedes racial harmony in this country. When we think of race-hustlers, Jackson and Sharpton are often the first two people that pop into our heads. But the ultimate race-hustlers may be no further than our TV screens........

kw

A Farewell For Franko

I first got to know Frank DeLost when we were teenagers playing baseball for the local Brooklyn-Curtis Bay traveling team. The team was made up of some rather unique personalities and Frank fit right in as our starting center fielder. Now, keep in mind that Frank had this distinct way of getting from point A to point B. While most people might have considering it walking, I viewed it more as "bopping". I can remember the opposing team jacking balls into deep center field. At first, it appeared that the ball was well over Frank's head. But then, waiting for the last possible second to move, Frank would break into his familiar bop. Trotting casually towards the fence, no one expected him to catch up to the ball. But defying logic, Frank would inevitably snatch the ball out of mid-air. This was just the beginning of many "WTF moments" to come.....

During that same baseball season, we traveled to Richmond, VA to play in a multi-day tournament. We were the Brooklyn-Curtis Bay version of the Bad News Bears. Although the team did have legitimate baseball skills, the highlight of the trip was the endless pranks and shenanigans that we took part in. Since I'm not sure if there's a statute of limitation on any of those antics, I won't go into any detail. All I'll say is that, even 30 years later, Frank would always get a kick out of talking about it. Whenever we ran into each other, at some point, with a big smile on his face, Frank would usually say, "Hey man, that Richmond trip was some crazy stuff."

Not long after our baseball days, Frank started attending the local Jehovah's Witness Kingdom Hall. Most of us knew nothing about the religion, so we did what most teenagers would so: We busted our friend's balls over it. We would sometimes address Frank as "Jehovah". Always good-natured, he would simply respond by asking, "Hey man, why are you calling me God?" This would inevitably turn into a 30-minute lecture from Frank. Before long, to avoid the sermon, we avoided the Jehovah jokes and went back to calling him plain ol' Frank.

In later years, I would occasionally run into Frank at the Club 4100 in Brooklyn where he worked at the time. It was here that Frank would occasionally transition into The Hulk or Batman to entertain the kids at the annual parties at the Club.

A few years ago, Frank joined our bowling league. Ironically, he quickly became known as Spider-Man. This wasn't because of his Super hero costumes from the 4100 Club, but instead, because of the way he threw the bowling bowl. Bopping across the approach lane, Frank would release the ball in a way that resembled Spider-Man throwing a web. Whenever someone yelled, "Hey Spider-man!", Frank would instantly respond by making a goofy face or striking a crazy pose.

I often listen to talk radio. One day, as I'm listening to a local show, the announcer says, "Now we're going to Frank in Curtis Bay. OK, Frank, what's on your mind?"

As soon as I heard the voice, I knew it was my old buddy. In true Franko fashion, he came right out the gate with a barrage of comments that would have even Einstein scratching his head. The announcer (I think it was Tom Marr), responded by saying, "Frank, what the hell are you talking about?"

I was laughing so hard, I nearly drove my car into a ditch.  From then on, whenever I heard the announcer say that he was going to "Frank from Curtis Bay", I would instantly pull my car off to the side of the road just to be safe.

...............................................................................................................

Sadly, we recently learned of Frank's untimely passing. Although he needed a new liver, he declined any option of a transplant because he said "some kid might need it more". This sums up Frank's unselfish nature and the compassion he had for others.

I will always remember Frank as a guy with whom I could share a zany story and a good laugh. I can't say that I've ever met anyone like him. And I doubt that I ever will......

In lieu of a traditional funeral, one of Franks last wishes was for all of his friends to get together for a Memorial/Farewell Party in his honor. That party is scheduled for tomorrow where many of Frank's longtime friends will gather and share their favorite memories. Although Frank won't be there tomorrow, his presence will surely be felt through our timeless recollections of him......

kw

A Night at the Baltimore Soundstage

On Tuesday, I went out with the guys to see a concert at the Baltimore Soundstage. Candlebox was the headlining band. They're a '90's band out of Seattle. They have a twinge of the grudge sound. But they're also uniquely different than the "typical" Seattle band of that era. If you're a rock fan, you should definitely have their self-titled debut album in your CD collection.

The concert itself was great but I'm not going to bore you with a detailed review. Instead, I want to point out some observances that I experienced throughout the evening....

First off, I bought tickets to the show online via Ticketfly and I took the option to have them held at will-call. For this "convenience", I was charged an additional $2. I was also charged a $5 service fee per ticket as well as a facility charge of $2. So, my $20 ticket, in reality, wound up costing about 50% more at $30. But that's not my big gripe. After all, Ticketmaster and company have been raping concert goers for years. After a while, you kinda get used to it. But my problem in this particular case is that there were no tickets at all. When we got to the Baltimore Soundstage, I told the "ticket" guy that I should have three tickets waiting for me. He asked to see my ID. He then asked who the other two tickets were for. I pointed to my two buds and the "ticket" guy waves us through as he says, "Alright, you guys are good. Enjoy the show." When I asked about the physical tickets, he says that they don't issue a "hard ticket" at will-call. Basically, they just confirm the number of tickets you bought and allow that many bodies into the venue. So, why do I have to pay "processing" and "handling" fees for a ticket that doesn't actually exist?

Not letting it ruin my night, I finally enter the concert hall with my friends. One of the opening bands is already playing. Before long, a guy with a bucket of red roses starts making his rounds. This always of pisses me off. I'm with a group of guys, so I know he won't be hawking us. But why do these guys do this crap. If a dude happens to be with his wife or girlfriend, the "rose guy" will pop up out of nowhere like a f*cking Jack-in-the-Box. This puts pressure on the poor guy to buy a rose. If he doesn't buy a stupid rose, he's made to feel like a cheap bastard. Normal guys don't put other guys in this type of awkward situation. This is a major breach of etiquette according to the Book of Man Rules. But just like the non-existent tickets, I refuse to allow the rose guy ruin my evening with the boys.

At some point, the over-priced beer was putting a strain on my kidneys, so I made that dreaded first-trip to the men's room. After disposing of about $20 worth of spent beer into the urinal, I make my way over to the sink to wash my hands. As I wave my hand under the motion-detector on the water faucet, a "bathroom attendant" practically trips over his own feet as he rushes to me with a bottle of liquid soap. Without even saying anything, he starts squirting soap onto my hands. This instantly pisses me off as I'm perfectly capable of getting my own soap. But, of course, this guy's motive is to pressure me into giving a donation to his tip basket which conveniently sets on the sink counter. After washing my hands, the guy is shoving a wad of paper towels in my direction. As much as it pissed me off, I wound up throwing a buck into his tip basket. Talk about high pressure sales!

I make my way back out into the concert hall. I'm getting a little anxious, feeling that I might be attacked by a swarm of aggressive squeegee kids at any moment. I push my way through the small crowd and reunite with my friends near the front of the stage. Another warm-up band is now playing. The singer starts into one of those silly crowd exchanges where he says, "How's everybody doing tonight?" And then the crowd weakly replies, "Yeeaahhhh!". And then the singer responds, "I can't f*cking hear you! I said, 'How's everybody doing tonight?!'" And then the crowd yells, "Yeeaahh!!", but this time a little louder. I hate when bands do this bullshit. What's the point??

The band went into a heavy riff as the singer screamed into the microphone with guttural aggression. It actually sounded demonic. I was waiting for the singer's head to start spinning around ala Linda Blair. If that wasn't enough to scare me shitless, the bass started booming so loud that I thought my heart might get knocked out of rhythm! I've heard that this can actually happen, so I slowly migrated to a safer place at the back of the venue.

Eventually, Candlebox came on and they were great. I really enjoyed their performance. Enough said....

Once the show ended and we get out to the parking garage, some drunk girl starts breaking my balls because I happened to be wearing a Red Eyes Dock Bar shirt. She keeps telling me that I'm a Steelers fan. I assure her that I'm not, but she continues to bitch at me because I'm wearing a "Steeelers' bar" shirt. For some stupid reason, I start to explain to her that bought the shirt a few years ago before it was a Steelers bar. In mid-sentence, I stop and ask, "Why the hell am I explaining all of this to you?" And then, to really mess with the annoying girl, I break into the jive dialogue from the movie Airplane:

"Hey, knock yourself a pro, Slick! Tha' gray matta backlot like ta perform us down! I take ta TCB'in, man! Hey ya know wha' they say, see a broad to get tha booty yak 'em. Leg 'em down and smack 'em, yack 'em. Cool, got to be, Shit...."

My tactic worked! The girl finally shut up as she desperately tried to comprehend what just came out of my mouth. At that point, I knew it was a good time to escape and call it a night.......

kw

The Guy Who Looked Like James Woods

When I'm out and about (which is quite abundant), I enjoy meeting new people and engaging in a good conversation. However, there are times when I just want to drink my beer and concentrate on other things. Case in point....

The other night, I'm at a local bar enjoying a really good band. As luck would have it, I happened to be wearing a t-shirt that had a bunch of famous guitars printed on the back. My back was turned to the guy sitting next to me at the bar. The guy had an uncanny resemblance to actor James Woods. Before long, he's slapping my left shoulder blade with the back of his hand.

I turn around and, in the nicest way possible, say, "What the f*ck?"

Mr. Woods replies, "That's a really cool shirt. Ya know it?"

"Yes, I agree, it is cool. Thanks", I said.

Before long, the guy is slapping my back again. He's asking me so many questions that I start to wonder if I'm at trivia night....What do you think of this song? Do you know the guys in the band? What's the name of the band? Etc, etc, etc......

I try to go back to watching the band. They're doing a kick-ass version of The Who's "Who Are You". The crowd is singing along and having a good time. Even James Woods is mesmerized enough by the song to temporarily stop backhanding my shoulder. In fact, he's so into it that he starts playing "drums" on the bar. He reminds me of one of those inner city kids wailing away on the 5-gallon buckets. His mad drum skills are taking their toll on my beer as it bounces with each new beat. It was like this guy was possessed by Keith Moon himself! So, I finally say, "For f*ck sakes, my man. You're going to break your hands! And spill my beer!"

While continuing to pound the bar with extreme aggression, the guy casually responds, "This is a bad-ass song. Ya know it?" 

Miraculously, the bar survived the assault as The Who song came to a close. The band then transitioned into a familiar Crack The Sky tune. This brought another round of backhands to my shoulder. I turn around to see what I can do for Mr. Woods this time.

"This is a pretty good band. Ya know it?", he says

"Yes, they are good", I quickly respond.

And then he asks, "So, do you play?"

Splitting my attention between the band and James Woods, I foolishly inquire, "I'm sorry, do I play what?"

"Guitar, of course". he replies, as he pantomimes Jimi Hendrix.

The image of James Woods jamming out to Voodoo Chile strikes me as a bit funny. I smile and say, "Yeah, I play a little."

He comes right back with, "We should jam sometime. Ya know it?"

I'm thinking.....If this guy hits the real drums anywhere near as hard he was pounding on the bar top, there's no amplifier in the world that could compete with him. About this same time, the band throws the crowd a curveball and segues into the popular country hit "Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy". The crowd loved it but James Woods seemed to take offense to it. Of course, he turns to his new best friend and says, "I don't care too much for country. Ya know it?"

I reply, "Actually, no. I didn't know it until you just pointed it out. But I actually think country music is pretty good."

Squinting his eyes, James Woods asks, "Really? What do you like about it?"

Now, I hate when people ask me open-ended questions when I'm in an extremely loud bar. Even if I attempted to explain my reasons for liking country music, only every other sentence would be understood. And then I'd be forced to keep repeating myself which in turn would put my in an extremely irritable mood. Since I don't like to be in an extremely irritable mood, I just say, "You're right, country music sucks."

Smiling, James Woods takes a final swig of his beer and then says, "It's been good talking to you. Ya know it? It really has. I'm going home now."

I tip my bottle of Landshark to him and watch him disappear into the Glen Burnie night as my back begins it's road to recovery.......

kw

Art Donovan - Baltimore's Santa Claus

Shortly after celebrating Jonathon Ogden's achievement of being the first Raven inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Baltimore fans sadly learned of the passing of Art Donovan. Back in 1968, Donovan became the first Baltimore Colt inducted into the Hall of Fame.

Donovan, a defensive tackle for the Colts, went to five straight Pro-Bowls and was part of Baltimore's championship teams in '58 and '59. The 1958 sudden-death overtime game against the NY Giants, as many Baltimore fans know, is still considered the greatest game ever played. 

Prior to his professional football career, Donovan was a member of the US Marines. He served admirably in World War II. While stationed in the Pacific Theater, Donovan took part in two of the war's fiercest struggles, the Battle of Luzon and the Battle of Iwo Jima. He received several medals and was subsequently honored by being the first pro football player to be inducted into the US Marine Sports Hall of Fame.

Art was widely known around Baltimore, not only for his stellar play on the football field, but also for his unique personality. He was an old-school storyteller who always kept his audience wanting more. Speaking with a heavy Bronx accent and his trademark candor, Donovan had the ability to keep people in stitches. After the release of his book, "Fatso", he became a frequent guest on late night talk shows with the likes of David Letterman and Johnny Carson. He was the kind of guy that you would see everyone gathered around at a party.

Never a fan of the health food craze, Donovan was known to devour large quantities of burgers or hot dogs in one sitting. Chicken and turkey were no match for his beloved salami and bologna. And, of course, he would wash everything down with his favorite beer, Schlitz. One of Art's favorite "war stories" took place years ago in Guam, where he got caught stealing a 30-pound case of Spam. He was given a choice: either eat the entire 30 pounds or go to the brig. In true Art fashion, he finished the entire case of processed pork in about a week. Strangely enough, Donovan once pointed out that was actually a light eater. As he further explained, when it got light, he started eating. 

Several of my friends have had interactions with Art through the years and I have never heard one negative comment about the big man. Most have told me that talking to Art was like swapping stories with a long-time friend. Most people sum up their meeting with Art by simply saying, "That guy is hysterical!"

Aside from his well-known humor, I'm also told that Art was down-to-earth and very approachable. Baltimore's legendary sportswriter, John Steadman once described him as a Santa Claus-type of guy. Not surprising, Donovan would often play Santa Claus at the Colts' annual Christmas parties.

Art Donovan's good cheer came in the form of his endless tales and robust personality. And for that, he will live in the hearts and minds of Baltimore sports fans forever.......

kw

Will Weiner Stick It Out?

When politicians are forced to resign due to some type of inappropriate conduct, the hope is that they'll disappear from the public eye forever. But over recent years, the arrogance and narcissism of modern politicians has them resurfacing like a hungry roaches.

I used to think that Marion "The Bitch Set Up" Barry was the epitome of a ridiculed politician. For those who don;t remember, Barry, then Mayor of Washington DC, was busted while smoking crack in a hotel room with a girlfriend (who was actually a FBI informant). Barry eventually did time in a federal prison for a drug possession. When he completed his sentence, Barry decided to run for a city council seat. You would have thought he would have been laughed back into a crack-laden haze. But no! Barry actually defeated a four-term incumbent with 70% of the vote! And if that wasn't bad enough, Barry's head got even bigger and he decided to run for Mayor of DC again. And you guessed it, the idiots in DC voted his crack-smoking ass back in!

The Marion Barry ordeal took place about twenty years ago. And there been many other scandals involving prominent politicians since then. But the most interesting today is brought to us by Anthony Weiner. Of course, Weiner was forced to step down from his New York congressional seat in 2011 after it was discovered that he had been texting sexually suggestive messages and photos of his package to several women. Weiner disappeared briefly, but he has resurfaced as he has thrusted himself into the race for Mayor of New York. Although I have never seen the Weiner's explicit photos, I have to imagine that the guy has some set of balls!

I have heard people call Mayor Bloomberg a dick, but should Wiener get elected, he'll bring a whole new meaning to that term. 

As expected, Weiner is taking a lot of criticism for his quick return to the public eye. On the surface, you wouldn't think that an admitted cyber-exhibionist would have a chance of getting elected as the leader of America's largest city. But don't underestimate the insanity of the average voter. If you think I'm wrong here, just chew on the following words for a few minutes.....The bitch set me up!

So, if somehow Weiner does get elected, what kind of impact do think it would have on the day-to-day operations at City Hall? Since he's facinated with his gentials, I have to assume that Weiner will have frequent staff meetings with members of his team. But how hard will it be for Weiner to win back the public's confidence? Does he still have the head for it and more importantly, will he be able to rise to the occasion? If things start to go south, will Weiner stick it out? Most people think the guy is nuts but I don't know, maybe he just has a bone to pick. In all likelihood, he'll probably stand firm unless, of course, there's a shrinkage of support. At that time, I would expect Weiner to pull out. But for now, supporters continue to stroke Weiner.

Under these unique circumstances, it would be funny to give the potential Mayor a colorful nickname. But with a name like Weiner, is it really necessary? 

kw

TV's - When Size Didn't Matter

So, the other day I picked up a new TV for the house. Well, actually it was for the garage. Since my garage has become the official "smoking room," of my home, I figured I should put a decent TV out there to allow people to watch the baseball/football games during their smoking sessions. Since it was basically an extra TV, I didn't want to spend a ton of money on it. So, I would up getting a good deal on a 32-inch flat screen.

Looking for a safe spot where it would least likely get damaged, I mounted the TV in high, far corner of the garage. Once I retreated to the "viewing area", I was surprised to see how small the television looked. I had to check the box to make sure that I hadn't mistaken ordered a 12-inch model. But sure enough, it was indeed the full 32 inches. I questioned myself as to whether I should have ordered a 55-inch screen instead. But that would be kind of overkill for a garage. Wouldn't it?

To say that the size of televisions has grown would be a vast understatement. I have seen TVs that were so large they practically needed their own zip code. I know people who have these gigantic 90" sets. When we watch the football game, the players are practically lifesize. You throw in the high definition picture quality and it looks like you're on the field with these guys. While watching a Raven's game last year, I dropped my beer and nearly sh*t my pants when Ray Lewis appeared to be running towards me!

Remember the old days when the "big screen" was the 25-inch model? We'd often see those console models with the built-in "large" speakers (which were actually only about 4 inches). The console took up the better part of the living room, but the actual TV screen was relatively small by today's standards. If you were "lucky" enough to have one of the deluxe models, you might have had a built-in record player. This gave you the ability to listen to your favorite Kiss album through the lame audio system.

Most people that I knew watched their favorite TV shows on a basic 19" set. I can remember crowding around these small televisions and watching major events like the Super Bowl. This seems a bit surreal considering some of the gigantic theater-size screens we watch the games on now. When I grew up, there was basically three sizes. You had the 13" for bedroom, the 19" for the living room and the 25" for a status symbol.

Buying a TV today can be somewhat confusing. How many HDMI inputs do you want? Should you get a 720p, 1080p or go for broke with a 4k? Do you prefer a Plasma, LED or LCD screen? Do you want a "smart" TV or maybe you'd rather save a few bucks and opt for an intellectually challenged model? 60 Hertz or 120 Hertz? All of this is technical jargon is actually making my head hurt! Remember the days when you didn't have to worry about any of this? You just took the TV out of the box, plugged it into the wall and adjusted the rabbit ears until you could clearly distinguish Starsky from Hutch. 

Although modern televisions are much more sophisticated, the price is relatively cheap when compared to the cost of yesterday's inferior CRT models. With the continuing price decline of today's high quality TV's, they've almost become disposable. If you have a TV for a few years and it goes bad, it's often cheaper to buy a new one rather than have the old repaired. By the way, is there even such a thing as a TV repairman anymore?

I give items away to charity a few times a year. Recently, while preparing some items for pick-up the next morning, I decided to give away an old 19-inch TV (with a built-in VCR). I figured I would never use it again but perhaps a family with small kids might be able to use it to play movies. Well, I set everything up in the morning and then left for work. When I got home later, I noticed that everything had been picked up except for the TV. I sent the charity an email and told them that they forgot to take the TV. They replied back that they did not forget it. They just didn't want it! A TV that was worthy of projecting the Super Bowl twenty-five years ago can't even be given way today. It's funny how things change.....

kw