Let's Break The Tip Jar

Can anyone tell me when the "tip jar" became a part of American business? Nowadays, you can't go anywhere without a big ass tip jar staring you in the face. And personally, I'm sick of it!

Before I go any further, let me say that I generally tip well in normal circumstances. What do I mean by normal? When a waitress/waiter serves me food and and keeps my beer mug filled with Landshark draft, that would be a normal situation. Therefore, my server (providing that my beer mug doesn't stay empty for more than thirty seconds) can expect a generous gratuity.

And although it seems like bartenders do nothing more than pour drinks and hand them over the counter, in most cases, they are working their asses off. I volunteered to work the beer line a couple of times at a Baltimore Ravens game for my son's high school football team. For three hours, I could hardly catch my breath! So, if I order a drink at a bar, I feel like a tip is definitely in order.

However, when Jalib hands me a Bear Claw and a cup of coffee over the Dunkin' Donuts counter, I don't feel obliged to throw a tip in his jar. If he did a decent rendition of The Temptations "My Girl", perhaps I would feel a little differently. Am I wrong for thinking like this?

Recently, I was at a party where the DJ had a tip jar set up. From what I understood, the guy was already getting paid generously for his services. So, the tip jar seemed a little tacky to me. If that wasn't bad enough, towards the end of the evening, someone started walking the jar from table to table pressuring everyone to contribute. I felt like I was sitting at a red light and the "Will Work For Food" guy was coming my way. I'm sorry, but if you got to resort to high pressure solicitation to make a living, you should be selling timeshares instead of spinning CD's.

To fight back, I'm thinking about carrying my own tip jar. Whenever I see a business displaying a tip jar, I will  set my own Mrs. Filbert's mayonnaise jar on the counter. I will leave it there until my transaction is over. To show that I'm a reasonable guy, for every dollar that Mrs. Filberts receives, I will match that amount and deposit it in the counter jar. Somehow, I don't think there's going to be many exchanges.

So, unless you're a street performer, it's time to break the tip jar once and for all. It's really nothing more than glamorized panhandling. And although most people probably won't tell you, trust me, it's tacky!

kw

As The Market Burns

Tossing and turning throughout the night, I finally gave in and got out of bed around 5 am. Watching the stock market plunge over the past two days has been weighing heavily on me. Over the years, thinking that it's the smart thing to do, I've invested heavily in my 401k. Even at a modest gain, my retirement was looking like it might be a comfortable one. I'm not so sure anymore......

How far will the market drop? Should I shift all of my investments? Or should I leave things alone and hope that we're only experiencing a temporary setback? After all, when I lost my ass a few years ago, I wound up getting most of it back. Will the same thing happen this time?

As much as I want to be optimistic, it's extremely difficult this time around. With our country's AAA credit rating being downgraded for the first time in history, I think I have a legitimate cause for concern. Some of my biggest worries:

•  I expect the cost of borrowing to go up in the near future. And this can only cause a trickle down effect across the rest of economy. 
• I don't expect the unemployment numbers to get much better anytime soon. Many of my colleagues who have lost their jobs are still looking for work. And the ones who are working, have settled for jobs that pay a much lower wage and reduced benefits. 
• Less people working results in less overall spending which ultimately translates into lower tax revenue. And I believe that this will cause the government to seek more taxes from the working class at a time when they can least likely afford it.
• The government is  now borrowing forty cents for every dollar it spends. How long can we sustain this kind of fiscal nonsense? Think about it, if you had to borrow $500 to pay your mortgage every month, how long do you think it would take until you were out on the street? This is scary stuff......
• With the "dumbing down" of our education system, we are sending our kids into a world where, instead of becoming contributors and leaders, they are more likely to become dependent on an already bankrupt system. 
• We continue to trust the same politicians who got us into this mess to get us out of it. I think most of them are clueless. Sadly, many of the  people who could actually help the country refuse to run for office because of today's cesspool of political mudslinging.

Our country is in trouble right now. And it really bothers me to see all of the bickering in Washington. All I hear lately is "It's not my fault!" Who really cares who's fault it is? Hell, they can blame me for all I care! But what we really need is someone who can get us out of this mess!!

kw

The Lighter Side of Tanning

While taking a dip in my pool the other day, I couldn't help but notice that my tan was just a little incomplete. Not that I'm really that concerned about these things, but nonetheless it was enough to grab my attention. You see, although my legs had an acceptable Coppertone hue, from the ankles down I could have passed for Edgar Winter.

So, now unless I want to look like I'm walking around on two giant Q-tips, I really need to get some sun on my feet. Maybe I'll get one of those big shiny "face-tanning" boards that I see the old people using on the beach. Of course, I'll improvise and use it to roast my dogs.

Aside from my feet, I also have another issue. Since I've gained a few pounds over the years, my midsection doesn't tan completely. My protruding belly now eclipses the area just below my chest. As a result, I walk around with a white stripe across the middle of my torso. I kind of look like one of those multi-colored hyenas that you see on the National Geographic channel. So, in order to get an even tan, I'll have to perform the King Pigeon yoga pose. And that can only mean a trip to the ER after I inevitably dislocate a vertebrae.

I guess if I really wanted to get that perfect tan, I could always use one of those tanning beds at my gym. But there's just something that doesn't seem right about a man getting an artificial tan. Yeah, I know that there are a lot of guys who go this route, but I always figure that they're the same guys who carry man purses. Personally, I don't want  to be part of any of this.

I know you're supposed to wear sunscreen before spending extended amounts of time in the sun. But I seldom do. Sunscreens always winds up running into my eyes. It might protect my skin but it sure makes my eyes burn like hell. And once I start sweating, the sunscreen becomes all slimy and makes me feel like a giant eel.

I've never been good with any of this tanning stuff anyway. Many years ago, in an attempt to keep from my skin from getting scorched, I put on what I thought was sunscreen. As it turns out, it was actually accelerator! After about 20 minutes in the direct sun, I smelled something burning. It reminded me of one of those Hatfield ham steaks sizzling in the frying pan. As you probably guessed, I was the one who was frying! I would have probably been better off if I had lathered up with Vaseline. (I guess it doesn't help that I'm usually drinking when I'm hanging out by the pool.)

Maybe I'll just play it safe and wear jeans and a sweater to the pool next time. A good, even tan is just too much effort......

kw

Grounding The Turkey Burger

I was just reading an article about a huge recall on ground turkey. Thirty-six million pounds of it, to be exact. It immediately struck a chord with me because I am totally repulsed by ground turkey. If it were up to me, I would recall the whole world's supply and send it to Purina One. I'm serious, I would rather eat pet food than ground up turkey meat.

I think my hatred for ground turkey began several years ago when Tina tried to pass off a grilled turkey burger as a real burger. Why would someone try to do something like this to another human being? Upon the first bite, I knew something wasn't right. With a Clint Eastwood-like facial expression, I said, " I think something's wrong with this meat. It doesn't taste right."

Tina, knowing that she was busted, came clean. She said, "There's nothing wrong with that burger. It's made of ground turkey." Then, she tried to compensate by telling how healthier it was compared to ground beef. I seriously doubted her healthy argument. I mean, just to make it palatable, I have to add a half jar of mayonnaise, four slices of provolone and then chase it down with three bottle of Sam Adams. How healthy can that possibly be? I don't have to add all of these enhancements to an old fashioned cheeseburger! Yes, sometimes I still do, but it's out of preference and not necessity.


Visions of the old lady in the Wendy's commercial are floating through my head..."Where's the beef!"

On a related side note, when Tina talked me into buying a new house several months ago, I made a few demands. One of them was that there would be absolutely no ground turkey permitted in our home. Reluctantly, she agreed. I knew that a new house was the only leverage that I might ever get to win the battle of the flavorless meat.

You see, I think of a turkey burger as a mugger with a ski mask. It hides it's true identity while stealing the great expectation of a delectable, juicy 100% beef burger. The "mugging" takes place after the first bite. Take off the mask and show your true identity, you tasteless bastard!


Before all of the turkey advocates beat me up, let me be clear. I love turkey in general. When I order a a sub, it's usually a toss-up between an Italian cold-cut or turkey breast. And on Thanksgiving, since steamed crabs aren't really an option, I can't think of anything else that I'd want for a main course other than a big ol' roasted turkey. But trying to pass ground turkey off as ground beef is sacrilegious!

I say let's recall all of the ground turkey and let's stop this madness once and for all!

kw

Breathtaking Scents

The other day, as I got into an elevator, I was almost asphyxiated by the overwhelming stench of cheap perfume. Trying to hold my breath, I took a quick glance around to inventory the crowd. Figuring I might pass out at any second, I wanted to be able to provide a description to the police later.

There were two women chatting about a bimbo named Snooki, a UPS guy fumbling with his package (that didn't sound quite right) and a sweaty maintenance guy. I'm going to go out on a limb and say the smothering aroma of Eau de Toilette was coming off one of the Jersey Shore girls. I'm not kidding, my eyes were on fire and my nose was running like I had just ate one of those little maroon peppers in General Tso's chicken. And, most concerning, I thought my throat was going to close up. I started to think that someone may have pumped some mustard gas into the ventilation system. And speaking of gas, I've been in elevators after someone floated an air biscuit, and don't get me wrong, it was bad. But I would take it any day over the suffocating smell of this woman's cheap perfume!

When the doors finally opened, I immediately exited. I was extremely thankful that I didn't pass out. As I flushed out my lungs with some fresh air, things started to return to normal. When I finally got my head together, I realized that I got off on the wrong floor. I decided to not take any more chances, so I walked up three flights of stairs to get to my floor.

Why do people feel the need to bath in perfume? Just because they like it, doesn't mean that everyone else is going to like it. Sometimes it can be downright offensive. I remember reading an article about a woman who was fired because she refused to stop wearing perfume while working in a confined office space. At first I thought it was a bit ridiculous, but now that I think about it, she probably deserved it.

When I was a kid, my buddy (Mark) and I would frequent the local joke shop at the old Jumpers Mall. One of our favorite purchases were these stink bombs. They were little glass vials of what I'm guessing was liquid methane. I'm not kidding you, when you cracked one open, it smelled like a rotten egg on steroids! We would wander into the local video arcade on a Friday night (when it was most crowded) and nonchalantly bust one of these things. We would head to the exit door, knowing that it would take about ten seconds for the full smell to kick in. Once we made it safely outside, we would watch through the glass wall as the pandemonium set in. At first, everyone would look at each other as if to say, "Was that you?" A few seconds later, when the full effect kicked in, it was every man for himself. It was total chaos as people nearly trampled each other to get outside. To make matters worse, the putrid smell would linger for a long time leaving the Pac-Man and Asteroid machines to fend for themselves. I know it wasn't a nice thing to do, but we were kids, and back then it seemed funny as hell. If something like this happened today, they would probably call in the Haz-Mat team and Mark & I would be on the terrorist watch list..

Was our prank offensive? The stampede of nauseous teenagers tells me yes. But is it really that much different than an unprovoked ambush by an overly perfumed woman on an elevator??

kw

An Evening With Uncle Ted

It was a sweltering day in Baltimore as we made our way towards the Inner Harbor. The temperature was in the triple digits and the humidity was higher than Lindsey Lohan between rehab stints. But hey, it is summer time right?

Anyway, the evening started with a nice dinner at P.F. Changs on Pratt Street. I always enjoy it there, but predictably, about three quarters of the way through the meal, I found myself saying, "I'm stuffed. I can't eat another bite. Then, just as predictable, I ate several more bites.

After dinner, we (Tina, Toni, John and myself) headed over to Ram's Head Live. Although it was only about two blocks away, the 100 degree temperature made it seem like two and a half. Once we got inside the initial entrance, we had to stand in a line before we entered the actual venue. Not only was there no air conditioning in this area, but there was no air flow. So, everyone stood there sweating like Rosie O'Donnell on a tanning bed.

Once we finally got inside, we claimed our spot on the floor about twenty feet from the stage. Since we were going to be in this confined spot for the next few hours, I thought about leading the crew in some jumping jacks and mild stretching exercises. But I figured it would look a little strange. Plus, we would inevitably bump into people causing them to spill their $6 beers. So, there would be no calisthenics.

The opening act was a good looking girl from New Jersey named Lisa Bouchelle. She walked onto the stage as her band played the intro to the first song. Before she sang the first note, I couldn't help but think that she was high as a kite. As she grabbed the microphone, her eyes were half closed and she was acting a bit disoriented. Then, as she got into the meat of the song, she almost appeared to be possessed. I kept thinking about Linda Blair in The Exorcist. But I was totally digging it! After the first song, she came back to earth and followed up with several more pop/rock type songs including an interesting cover of CCR's "Midnight Special". I really enjoyed her performance. Oh, did I mention that she was good looking?

As we were waiting for Ted Nugent to take the stage, the "encroachment" ceremony began. This is the part of the show when Tina (and Toni, in this case) begins to complain, "If this girl bumps into me one more time...." As luck would have it, Toni had a tall blonde in front of her who kept flipping her hair and extending her elbows in Toni's direction. I knew this one had the potential to become another Ali vs. Frazier. I just hoped it wouldn't happen before Uncle Ted came on stage.

Meanwhile, Tina was fighting her own battle with guy who entered her no-fly zone. They got into a "You need to move up, you need to move back" routine. I've been through this too many times before. My job is to officiate and only intervene if any rules are violated. Trust me, Tina has plenty of field experience in these situations and is quite capable of holding her own.

As our two wives were fighting their respective battles, John leaned over to me and said, "We've gotta start coming to these things by ourselves."

Eventually, the wives got fed up and resorted to finding a more spacious spot near the back bar area. Aside from taking an occasional elbow and having beer sporadically spilled on us, we could finally relax.(Actually, the back of John's shirt wound up getting doused by a cup of warm lager complements of some asshole behind him. My casualties were limited to several Miller Lite foot baths).

Ted Nugent took the stage at 9 o'clock. The stage was set up with his customary big amps and a backdrop of a huge American flag. The stage also featured more than a dozen of Nugent's Gibson guitars and a few assault rifles strategically placed on the tops of the amps. It seemed a bit ironic considering that we were in the left-leaning, anti-gun state of Maryland. But hey, I'm pro-Second Amendment, so if Uncle Ted wants to display his guns, so be it...

Nugent kicked things off with a energetic version of Free For All. As the evening progressed, he played all of his classic numbers. Each one was accompanied by a profanity-laced, Nugent-esqe introduction. Ted definitely has a way with words and knows how to fire up the crowd. He's a very charismatic performer and actually quite funny at times.One of his more memorable statements was "God bless America and f*ck the rest of the world!" I don't know if I'd go quite that far, as I'm quite fond of the Irish. But I couldn't help but think that it would make a catchy bumper sticker. When it comes to speaking his mind, Nugent is the Ronald Reagan of rock and roll. And he never forgets to give praise to the troops.

The songs were filled with Ted's signature extended guitar solos. The guy can definitely jam and knows how to play to the crowd. I always thought that over the years, Nugent's playing ability got overshadowed by his wild stage antics and controversial statements. But there's no doubt that the guy definitely play a guitar!

A pleasant surprise was seeing Derek St, Holmes on the stage with Ted. A lot of people don't realize that Holmes actually sang many of the songs in Nugent's early solo career. He still has the pipes and it was great to hear him belt out classic songs like Stanglehold and Just What The Doctor Ordered.

Nugent ended the night with an encore of The Great White Buffalo. Adding color to the song, he traded in his cowboy hat for a full Indian headdress. The guy is a true showman!

I first saw Ted Nugent back in 1980 when he was played at the old Capital Center. After all of these years ,it was great to see him "up close and personal" at Ram's Head. He really hasn't changed that much. If anything, he's gotten a little wilder!

kw

All Juiced Up

Here we go again......

In my never ending quest to not become the "before" guy in the diet commercials, I have once again decided to implement some healthy changes into my lifestyle. Now, let's not get too excited. I don't plan on becoming a vegan and having sleepovers at the gym. I've got to take baby steps.....

Out of sheer boredom, I began to evaluate the all of  things that have been disguising themselves as food and wreaking havoc on my expanding waistline. I could spend all day telling you about all of the bad things, but let's try to stay positive. The one thing that seemed to be clearly lacking was my consumption of fruits and vegetables. In my defense, I do occasionally "order" an orange, but it's usually left floating in my Blue Moon draft.

So. I decided to make a conscience effort to increase my intake of all types of leafy and colorful natural foods. As luck would have it, I happened to tune into a documentary called "Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead". It's basically about a guy from Australia who comes to America and is determined to lose weight by "cleansing and rebooting" his body. Essentially, he buys a juicer and lives off of this nasty green vegetable juice for 30 days. His journey through New York City and into south is interesting as well as very entertaining. In the end the guy goes from 305 pounds down to 220. And his overall health shows dramatic improvement.

After going back the the land down under, the guy receives an emotional phone call from an overweight truck driver he happened to meet in the states. The Aussie offers to come back to the US and help the guy out. Long story short, the truck driver had remarkable results. If you get a chance, check out the film. It really is a remarkable story....

Ok, back to me......

Of course, after seeing the film, a low-wattage light bulb goes off in my head. I'm thinking, "Hell, I was going to do the fruit and vegetable thing anyway. I might as well buy a juicer!" So, off I went to Walmart....

The juicer itself was a pretty easy purchase. But when it came time to shop for fruits and vegetables, I was in over my head. As I strolled through the produce section of the local wholesale club, I felt like a teenage boy buying a girlie magazine. I was definitely a stranger in a strange land.

I eventually wound up gathering about thirty pounds of neatly packaged fruits and vegetables. I could hardly wait to get home home and juice them. I also picked up a bag of mixed nuts because, well, I'm just a nutty kind of guy......

I get home and take the juicer out of the box. I am a guy, so you know reading the instructions was totally out of the question. So, I proceed to cram about a pound of baby spinach leaves into the feed chute. I crank the machine up and wait for something to happen. Nothing. So, I add another batch of spinach and repeat. Again nothing. Then, I turn the machine off and, all of a sudden, A small amount of green juice starts dribbling out of the spout and onto the kitchen counter. It looked like thick green semi-gloss paint. And I'm supposed to drink this? And I can't help but think that, at this rate, it's going to take a truckload of spinach (or other vegetables) to make one glass of juice! Can I just order a Mojito and call it a day?

Well, as luck would have it, Tina came home just in time to witness my latest adventure. I figure she was going to go postal from the new green paint job on the counter. But instead, she starts laughing. Can you believe this bullshit? She tells me that I'm one of the funniest people she's ever met. Now, if I had just performed one of my legendary pool dives, I could understand it. But I'm trying to get healthy over here. What's so funny about that?

So, I gather up my vegetables (and what's left of my pride) and head out of the kitchen. I return later and manage to make enough juice to fill a glass. I transfer the contents to a plastic travel mug and put it in the refrigerator. I decide to take the drink to work with me and have it for lunch the next day. I figure it will be a healthier alternative to the 5-hour energy shots that I rely on so often.

Around noon the next day, I decided to go out to my car to retrieve the magic juice that's in a cooler in my trunk. I open the cooler and take the drink out and anticipate the instant boost that I'm about to receive. After taking the first sip, I realized that the taste wasn't quite what I had hoped for. It was rather nasty. And, as if this concoction wasn't already hard enough to swallow, there were chunks of carrot in the drink. I don't even think Captain Morgan could help this situation. But being determined to finish what I had started, I marched on. I would take a drink, hold it in my mouth for a few minutes, then shake my head back in forth before I finally forced myself to swallow it. I repeated this process several times until the entire drink was gone.

To people passing by, it probably appeared as if I was having some type of epileptic seizure. But they obviously knew nothing about a healthy lifestyle.

Well, after a few minutes, my stomach started to cramp up and I felt a little disoriented. At one point, I felt like I might actually pass out. My body had been deprived of vegetables for so long that it seemed to be rejecting my high-octane health juice. I seriously thought that I might be the victim of a self-induced coma!

Thankfully, after several minutes my head cleared up. But my insides still felt like they were twisted. I wound up heading over to the Walgreens to pick up some Tums. Hey, I never had these issues with a strawberry shake from Chick-fil-A!

If this is what healthy eating is all about, I think I'll just stay fat, dumb and happy!

kw