Cereal on My Mind

After reading this, you may think I’m a little obsessive. My last post was about Cheerios, and here I am writing about breakfast cereal again. Well, in truth I am obsessive, but I do have an excuse – or at least an explanation.

I recently started a new job. It’s across town so, to beat rush hour traffic, I decided to start work at 7AM. To get there on time, I have to leave my house by 6:20AM, which in turn requires me to roll out of bed by about 5:45AM. Following this schedule, I usually land at my breakfast table with a bowl of cereal in front of me in the neighborhood of 6:05 each morning.

I’ve been me long enough to know that I will never be a morning person. At 6:05AM, my thoughts haven’t quite yet made the leap from dream logic to reality. I’m still convinced that there is a little green man inside my alarm clock whom I should be able to convince to stop changing the numbers while I sleep indefinitely. It is in this mental state that I find myself staring at cereal boxes. So, as I spew my pre-dawn thoughts about my breakfast at you, please be aware that I do have other Interests.

With that disclaimer firmly in place, I will now proceed with my Post®.

To start, why must the front of every cereal box include some form of the disclosure, “Enlarged to show texture”? It’s a picture for crying out loud! Do they really think we expect everything in photographs to be exactly life size? If so, why doesn’t the image on the back of the box of children playing soccer have a footnote that says, “Shrunken to fit on the box”? Who knows, maybe the absence of said footnote means the children really are that small. Maybe food companies are covering up the existence of a race of teeny people being exploited for advertising.

The fact that the, “Enlarged to show texture” tagline is so ubiquitous makes me wonder if there is an FDA regulation that requires it. If that is the case, then cold cereal is just way too regulated. If the government is going to force food manufactures to make disclosures on cereal boxes, they should at least be somewhat helpful. Maybe something like; “dextrose, galactose, fructose, sucrose, maltodextrin, and corn syrup ARE ALL JUST SUGAR!”

Another common note I see on cereal boxes is, “Serving suggestion”. This, I assume, is to make it clear that we won’t find fresh blueberries, eggs, toast, and a glass of orange juice inside the box. Now, I’m sure that cereal manufacturers are under no delusion that anyone actually heeds these serving suggestions. Still, I think the one pictured on my current box of Cheerios is pushing it (yes, I actually pulled this out of my pantry and scanned it):
I have nothing against strawberries in my cereal, or even eating from a heart shaped bowl. I will not, however, eat my Cheerios with diapers on top of them. Frankly I’m offended that they would suggest it.

Interestingly, the “Serving suggestion” footnote is absent on my box of Raisin Bran: I imagine they didn’t want to be culpable if someone decided to actually try this. It may look great in a photograph, but you should never sprinkle diamond shards on your cereal and eat it from a molten hot spoon.

I Love Cheerios

I’m getting older. I’m fine with that; it’s an acceptable side effect of being alive. I don’t, however, like thinking of myself as ‘old’. The fact than I’m older than I was a year ago is indisputable. Whether or not that makes me ‘old’ is highly subjective – or at least it should be.

See, lately I’ve been getting phone calls from people who, for some inexplicable reason, seem compelled to inform me that I’m now a withered old raisin.

“Hello”, I answer the phone unsuspectingly.
“Hello, my name is Blah Blah, calling on behalf of Blah. Am I speaking with Mr. Hill?”

“Yes, this is Mr. Hill, how may I help you?”

“Mr. Hill, I’m just calling to inform you that you are a withered old raisin.”

“What a hurtful, hurtful thing to say.”

“Mr. Hill, this will only take a few minutes. May I continue?”

Of course I’m paraphrasing, but only slightly. The actual conversation goes something a little more like this:

“Mr. Hill, I am conducting a short survey. Before I begin, I need to ask you a few qualifying demographical questions, starting with your age. Are you a)Under 18, b)18-24, c)25-34, or d)35 and over?”

“Umm… I’m 35.”

“So, d) 35 and over?”

“No, not 35 'and over'. Just 35.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Hill, that’s not an option. I need to enter d) 35 and over.”

“Do you realize that you’ve just grouped me with George Burns?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Hill, I don’t understand that reference.”

“That’s because you’re b)18-24.”

To be fair, a year ago I was more than happy to be classified as '25-34', and I hardly ever belittled telephone surveyors about the unfairness of the generalization. Now, though, these meddling callers make me angry and embittered, and I have an irrepressible urge to rant about them to anyone who will listen. Plus my hip hurts.

Conversely, Cheerios make me feel spry, youthful, and giggly.

Why? Coincidentally, it's for exactly the same reason. They too have decided to segregate the population into age groups. They have recently divided the nutritional information listed on the side of their boxes into age appropriate columns.

This makes perfect sense to me. Obviously the recommended daily calorie intake for an adult is going to be different than it is for a child. Everyone should be doing this. And the best part? There are only two age groups: Under 4… and everyone else.

Brilliant! In a single, master stroke, Cheerios has made 4-year-olds feel all grown up, and 90-year-olds feel young.

Frankly, this new Cheerios age paradigm has changed my life. I’ve been marching around like the king of the world asking everyone I see to guess my age. Before they have a chance to awkwardly mumble something about not being very good with ages, I blurt out, “4 AND OVER! HA!”

Totally worth the three hours of musty Cheerio burps I have to endure after breakfast.

History is Made as America Elects Its First Blue President

The world is in shock tonight as Anthony Parrulli has been named President Elect of The United States of America.

Mr. Parrulli, who is most famous for being a member of the popular Blue Man Group, seems equally taken aback by his sudden appointment to America’s highest office.

“During his acceptance speech he didn’t even say anything.” said one supporter who was present at the Las Vegas rally, “He just looked around really fast without moving his head. I could tell he was surprised because his eyes were opened freakishly wide.”

Even many of those who voted for him were stunned by the results of tonight's election.

“WHAT HAVE WE DONE?! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, TELL ME THIS WASN’T MY FAULT!!” commented Justin Sterling, a Kansas resident who admits to having been intoxicated while at the ballots.

Others are more optimistic.

“Sure I think he has the experience needed to rebuild the economy.” Remarked Stephanie Langdon of New Jersey, “Have you seen what those guys can do with PVC pipes?”

Another voter said it was actually Barack Obama who inspired her to vote for Mr Parrulli.

“Obama got me excited about change, but when I looked at his voting record, it was all just down his party line. That wasn’t what I was looking for, so I started keeping my eye out for someone who would bring real change to Washington. That was about the time my family took a trip to Vegas, and well, the rest is history.”

A major factor in this election was voters aged 30 to 35 who grew up during the Smurfs era. 78% of these individuals cast their ballots in favor of Parrulli.

President Parrulli will officially be sworn in to office on January 20, 2009. Due to contractual obligations with The Venetian Hotel and Resort, however, he will only be available to perform presidential tasks on Tuesday mornings before 10AM.

Recession Proof Yourself

I don’t want anyone to panic, but our economy is in trouble. Not just, “Maybe we shouldn’t get the integrated Blu-ray windshield option on our new Escalade” trouble. I mean real “the-sky-is-falling” trouble.

In light of this, you may be wondering, why not panic?

Well, firstly, you shouldn’t panic because it’s a very unoriginal response to the situation. I mean, seriously, everyone is doing it. Trust me, in about 6 months all these people who are so into panicking now are going to be in complete denial, saying things like, “yeah, I may have panicked a little, but I did it before it got huge. Once it went main stream, it was totally lame. You should check out unfounded optimism though. It’s all the rage.”

Secondly, although the financial outlook for our country is undeniably grim, there is still a sure-fire way to “recession proof” yourself.

It’s simple really. All you need to do is pull all of your money out of high-risk areas (e.g. your savings account) and put it in mattresses. And when I say, “put it in mattresses”, I don’t mean you should actually cram your cash into the mattresses in your house. I mean you should use your money to buy a bunch of mattresses.

Based on current foreclosure and employment trends, it is reasonable to assume that by the fourth quarter of next year, 98% of the US population will be homeless. With 295 million people sleeping on the street, where will the balance of power lie? With the guy who owns a crap-ton of mattresses.

Trying to get through this economic crisis by holding onto your cash is tantamount to trying to survive a trip from Earth to Neptune by holding your breath. We’re leaving the oxygen-rich atmosphere of a world brought into existence by the big bang of the subprime housing market, and heading into the vacuum of space. Sure, having a “lung full” of cash will sustain you for a minute or two, but eventually you’re going to have to exhale.

As we stand on the cusp of this fiscal meltdown, saving your money is simply the worst thing you can do. While it’s still worth more than the paper it’s printed on, use your money. Buy Mattresses.

Mark my words, history will tell of the 21st century Mattress Lords who rebuilt a civilized society from the tattered remains of a world torn to shreds by the archaic economic ideologies of those who came before them.

To Err is Human, to Sing Playground Songs Isn't

I’ve heard a lot of talk in the media lately about “nature vs. nurture”. How much of what we become is determined by our genetic makeup, and how much is learned? My gut tells me that it is a combination of the two. Of course, that may just be because my gut is genetically predisposed to tell me that.

Now, while the “nature vs. nurture” debate is intriguing and fraught with fascinating – if somewhat disturbing – implications, it is about neither nature nor nurture to which I wish to address my thoughts today.

There is, in fact, a third factor which shapes who we are. A factor unseen and unsuspected that has an unfathomable influence over each of us. To name this factor will, in all likelihood, lose me the previously unshakable respect of the millions of readers I like to pretend frequent this blog. Even knowing that, however, I still feel compelled, so I will name it.

It's aliens. Aliens control us in ways that you, quite literally, won’t believe. My realization that there was an unearthly intelligence shaping our thoughts and behaviors came about a year ago. I had a very flux capacitor-esque revelation when I heard my children singing the playground song, “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells”. That’s funny, I thought amusedly, I used to sing the same song when I was their age. As I thought about it more, however, my amusement turned to foreboding. 30 years and hundreds of miles separated the 5-year-old me from my present-day children. How could they possibly be singing the same song? It’s not the type of song that is taught to elementary school children by their teachers, and I have a hard time believing that parents all across America have been propagating it from generation to generation.

The seeds of suspicion had been planted in my mind, so I decided to do some research. Each phone call and casual conversation I had over then next few days was fodder for my suspicions. Every person I talked to was familiar with the song. There were no geographical or generational bounds to it. It was known by octogenarians and kindergarteners, New Yorkers and Californians. Not only did everyone know the song, the vast majority of them had absolutely no recollection of ever learning it.

Still, I dug further. I tried to find the origins of the song, and was amazed by what I found. My research took me to Lascaux France where, in a forgotten corner of its famous cave, I found the following prehistoric painting:

The image clearly depicts jingle bells, Batman smelling, and even the Batmobile which has lost a wheel.

Interestingly, the carbon dating on this painting proves it not only to predate Bob Kane and Bill Finger (the supposed creators of Batman), but even Christmas itself.

With the combined evidence of my personal interviews, the cave painting, and my gut – which, as pointed out earlier, is genetically predisposed to tell me stuff, the conclusion is irrefutable. This song (and probably many others) is routinely implanted into human minds by aliens.

So what's the big deal? After all, it is just a silly playground song. Well, the "big deal" is that this song subtly strikes a blow at two of the most central pillars of civilazation - super heroes and holidays. If aliens are successful in trivializing these two staples of humanity, the consequences will be catastrophic. Movie script writers will have to start thinking up original plot lines. Retailers will have to figure out how to be profitable without a post-Thanksgiving rush. Credit card companies might fail altogether. In short, the world will be a confused mess.

So, for the sake of our planet, please remember, Batman does NOT smell, and The Joker never gets away.

I Am Brilliant

Several years ago I had a friend who thought everything was cool. It didn’t matter what it was, there was some degree of coolness in it. The only variable was the actual quantity of coolness imbued in a thing. For instance, if someone told my friend that a puppy had been run over, he might have responded, “Wow… that’s not very cool.” which, of course, would imply that there was, albeit minuscule, at least some level of coolness in it.

See, there is a monumental difference between something not being cool, and something not being very cool, and in that difference, lies a paradigm-shifting idea that bears consideration.

Entertaining the notion that there is at least some shred of coolness in every person, place, and thing (ok, every noun) that exists, it follows that other attributes (beauty, intelligence, goodness, etc.) would be similarly ubiquitous. In fact, I assert that this idea can be applied not just to some other attributes, but to every other attribute. In other words, everything is everything – to an extent.

Traditionally, attributes are considered to have opposites which do not typically occupy the same space. Beauty and ugliness, for instance, are thought to be on a single scale, ugliness being at one end, and beauty at the other. In my view, beauty and ugliness are two distinct attributes, both of which are present in everything. Heidi Klum, for example, is not very ugly, but, as it must, a tiny shred of ugliness does exist in her. I can therefore, with a clear conscience, say that she is ugly, because she embodies that small bit of ugliness.

Likewise, as the title of this post avers, I can say with full confidence that I am brilliant. Granted, the quantity of brilliance that abides in me may be microscopic, but it is there. Unfortunately, idiocy is also inexorably attached to me, so it is just as correct for me to state, “I am idiotic”.

The problem is that often times one attribute is so blaring, that all other attributes are overlooked. If I was devoured by lions, the tragedy of my gruesome death would almost completely overshadow the triumph of me getting a day off of work. Ergo, most people would feel comfortable saying the event was not triumphant. In actuality, however, the event was just not very triumphant.

So, what’s the point? Well, if you embrace the, “everything is everything” philosophy, you can be totally relieved of any guilt associated with "little white lies" and/or unfair criticisms. Statements like, “You are beautiful!”, “That idea is genius!”, and “That joke was hilarious!”, can all be said with complete candor. Conversely, for those of you less inclined to niceness, feel free to boldly assert, “Your face is atrocious!”, “Your mannerisms are obnoxious!”, or even, “Your blog is lame.”

When you come to the realization that everything (and everyone) actually does manifest some level of beauty, genius, hilarity, atrocity, obnoxiousness and lameness, pointing it out is merely rhetorical.

Surviving in Las Vegas

As I sat in an air-conditioned restaurant eating ice-cream with my son yesterday, He asked me what life would be like without electricity. I turned the question back on him, and asked him to name all the things he could think of that are powered by electricity. It was a fun and educational discussion. He was fascinated as I did my best to explain how people managed to live before electricity.

Later, long after the question had evaporated from my son’s curious mind, I was lying awake in my bed still pondering. I tried to think realistically about what I would do in the middle of this insane desert to keep my family alive in the event of a disaster severe enough to deprive us of electricity and the other conveniences of modern life on which we have grown so dependent.

The first and obvious answer is to have plenty of water and non-perishable food on hand. I won’t be discussing this because, frankly, my wife is much better suited to the subject of food storage. Rather, I’d like to share the insights I had last night about things not so commonly considered in terms of reacting to a disaster in the desert.

Keep in mind that these are merely a few suggestions and should in nowise be considered a comprehensive emergency preparedness plan.

1- Get Rid of Your Elephant
I’m not talking about the proverbial “elephant in the room”; I’m talking about a real live elephant. If you have an elephant when a disaster strikes, your first priority should be to get rid of it. I understand that your elephant may feel like a member of your family, but an elephant can eat up to 200 pounds of food and drink 50 gallons of water in a single day. Surviving in the desert while trying to sustain an elephant is simply not practical.

2- Don’t Rely on Your Chili’s Gift Cards
Perhaps you’ve been stockpiling gift cards to Chili’s with the idea that if calamity ensues, you will just eat at Chili’s until things are back to normal. The problem is that Chili's manages their gift cards with a computer system that relies on a magnetic strip on the back of each card. Without electricity, your waiter will not be able to swipe your card. Granted, you may still be able to use your McDonalds Dollars, but keep in mind that your food will be served raw and unrefrigerated.

3- Stop Exercising
Even if your New-Year’s resolution was to exercise every day this year, you should stop. Believe it or not, exercising in the desert with little to no food or water can actually have a negative impact on your health. If you’re worried about the weight, rest easy. You’ll find the pounds just melting away as you struggle to stay alive in the deadly heat of the Mojave.

4- Apologize to Your Loved Ones
When all is said and done, if a major disaster does occur while you're living in Las Vegas, you’re probably going to die. You’ll find it easier to do so if you’ve already made peace with those whom you have offended over the years.

I Don't Care if You Don't Like Fish

I like fish. Actually, I like to eat fish; my feelings toward the animals themselves are fairly neutral.

As a liker of fish, I have to say that I am often ashamed of the lack of tolerance expressed by some of my fellow fish-likers. Why must fish-likers insist that fish-haters keep trying fish? “You’ll like this fish”, they say, “It doesn’t have that ‘fishy’ taste.” Well, if one of the criteria for a food to taste good is for it not to taste like itself, then there is an implication that that food is inherently not good.

If I was to tell a friend that I don’t like chocolate cake, he might think I was a little wrong in the head, but he wouldn’t try to convince me to eat it by telling me it didn’t have that ‘chocolaty’ taste.

Truthfully, I don’t believe that fish-likers really want others to like fish at all. I think they’re convinced that liking fish puts them in an elite class of fine food connoisseurs. (This is especially true of sushi-likers.) Their constant insistence that fish-haters keep trying fish is merely an excuse for them to raise an eyebrow in mock surprise and say, “Really? You don’t like it? To me, the moist flakes of buttery light meat are reminiscent of a Tuscan sunset. . . " Then, with the tone of a mother talking to a toddler, they ask, "And how do you like your hamburger?”

Since when did having an affinity for a particular type of food make anybody sophisticated? Whenever I see fish-likers exhibiting this kind of behavior, I inwardly question whether their fish fetish is even genuine. I think often times people develop a tolerance for fish just so they can lord their pseudo passion over everyone they encounter. In fact, the more outwardly exuberant someone is about fish, the less likely it is that they truly like it. Anyone who says, “Man, I could just kill for some cod right now!” or, “I’d chew my own legs off and drag myself through a pit of asps to get to some halibut!” should not be trusted.

There is even a hierarchy within the fish-liking community. As a fish-liker, your rank is determined by the outlandishness of the food you’re able to ingest. Those who are only willing to eat cooked salmon are no better than peasants. Eat a live blowfish, however, and you’re immediately hobnobbing with the upper-crust. I have no doubt that if I were to open a restaurant in Beverly Hills that sold nothing but aged raw sea urchin spleens, my patrons would be considered royalty.

It’s ridiculous, and I’m sick of it. To all you fish-haters and only-cooked-salmon-likers: On behalf of my insensitive, elitist and bigoted fish-liking peers, I apologize. Eat whatever the hell you want.

“Relativity: A Theory”

In 1905, a 26 year old Albert Einstein shook the very foundation of the physics community when he introduced his Special Theory of Relativity. He all but called Isaac Newton a bumbling twit as he uprooted, spit-on and spurned Newton’s shallow and childish theory of gravitation.

Now, I give full props to Einstein for being a smarty pants, but his theory is seriously lacking in the arena of usability. Of course, if you happen to be a science fiction writer looking to add a shred of credibility to your wildly outlandish tales of travel through space and time, Einstein’s theory will always be a staple. For most of us, however, the applications are limited. I understand that it is a fascinating concept, and you may even be tempted to test the relative speed of the light from your laser pointer by shining it on the forehead of a flight attendant while you’re hurling through the sky at 700mph in a passenger plane. I highly recommend you resist this urge (see my article, “Waterboarding: It’s Worse than You’d Think” for more details).

My point is the world has long been in need of a relativity theory that can, not only be understood, but can be applied to daily life. Enter my brainchild, “Relativity: A Theory”. And before you send me an angry email telling me that my idea is actually a hypothesis, please note the quotation marks.

My “theory” deals with perception. Specifically the perception other people have of your physical appearance. It was born by personal reflection after a lifetime of gaining and losing weight, growing and shaving facial hair, and a rapidly declining battle between my hair line (the good guys) and my forehead (the bad guy).

In my reflections, I have concluded that there are five factors involved in determining appearance:

1- Initial Actual Appearance (i)
This is your physical appearance (on a scale of 1-100) upon first contact with someone who previously has never seen you. This is sometimes referred to as, “First Impression”, although the term “First Impression” generally has a broader scope which includes such things as your mannerisms and personality. The value of i becomes the initial value of P (see below).

2- Presumptive Appearance (P)This is what a person who has previously seen you thinks you look like now. The value of P can only be modified when the variance between S and c (see below) is greater than two.

3- Subconscious Presumptive Appearance (S)
This is the value of c (see below) from the most recent contact a person has had with you.

4- Current Actual Appearance (c)This is what you actually look like now.

5- Relative Appearance Variance(R)The difference between Current Actual Appearance and Subconscious Presumptive Appearance is the Relative Appearance Variance, or more concisely: R=c-S

I assert that Presumptive Appearance is far more important than Current Actual Appearance. Groundbreaking? Maybe not at first glance, but when you consider the implications I think you may be surprised at what you find.

Say, for instance, you meet a friend for the first time. Assuming you’re an average looking person, we’ll assign your physical appearance at the time of your first meeting a value of 50. Understand now that this value is interpreted and logged subconsciously by the friend you just met. Now in the mind of your new friend you have a Presumptive Appearance (P) with a value of 50 (The value of i immediately becomes the initial value of P), and since you just met, this also happens to be the value of c and S. Your R is 0, which means you look exactly like your new friend thinks you look.

You see this friend often over the course of the next 5 years while you slowly gain 50 pounds. His S value for you is reset to your c value every time he sees you; however P can only be affected by immediate variances between S and c which are greater than 2. Therefore your friend has not noticed that you’ve become a fat slob. Your c is now 30, but your P (with this friend) is still 50.

You finally realize that you’re way too fat, so you go to a fat farm and lose 30 pounds. Your c is now 40, however your friend who still holds a P value of 50 for you will immediately recognize the 10 point improvement in your c as compared to his S value for you, and he will adjust his P for you accordingly – making your P a value of 60 in his mind. He may say to you, “Wow! You look amazing! Ten years younger!” and on a conscious level he believes it. Subconsciously he is merely recognizing how atrocious you looked the last time he saw you.

So why is this “theory” so much more usable than Al’s? Because when we’re aware of these principles we can use them to our advantage.

Rules to Live By:

1- First Impressions are critical
When meeting someone for the first time, remember that a high Initial Actual Appearance value could really hurt you in the long run. Try not to look too good.

2- If you’re really ugly, that’s great news!
With a relatively small amount of work and calculation, you can actually be better looking than a super model (at least in the eyes of those who know you).

3- If you’re really good looking, don’t worry there’s hope
The trick for you will be to slowly get ugly while making sure everyone you know sees you often enough as not to exceed the 2 point variance (which would make them aware that you’re getting uglier).

4- Stay away from the counterfeit “relativity” theory
There is a school of thought that would have you believe that surrounding yourself with people uglier than yourself will make you relatively more attractive. Inevitably this backfires for one of two reasons:
1- Eventually someone is going to see you alone
2-As you get older and fatter it will become increasingly difficult (and eventually impossible) to find people uglier than you.

5- Be Social - When you’re at your ugliest, try to meet as many people as possible.

6- Be Anti-Social - If you decide to go on a diet, become a hermit until the weight is off.

7- Photographs are not your friend – If someone sees a photo of you when you first met, there is a possibility that his/her S for you will be reset to the image of you in the photograph which would trigger the 2 point R variance threshold causing a P adjustment. This, of course, would make you very ugly.

8- Photographs are your friend – On the off chance that you're actually better looking than you used to be, it could be in your best interest to remind people what you used to look like.

Suggested Application:

As a balding man, I have found that an exellent way to take advantage of "relativity" is by letting the sparse remains of my hair grow for a month or two. Since I usually keep my head shaved, the gradual appearance of a thin and receding head of hair steadily reduces my Current Actual Appearance value. The effect is exacerbated if I simultaneously allow my facial hair to grow out to an unfashionably straggly length. Following this procedure, I can reduce my Current Actual Appearance value by up to 7 points in the course of just a few weeks. As long as I maintain frequent contact with those of my friends whose opinion of me I actually care about, I have the ability to become 7 points better looking overnight!

As a retrospective, the "before" picture above was taken when I wrote this post. The "after" picture was taken 6 years later. After an intense laboratory study in which I asked everyone in the room which picture makes me look younger, 100% of the respondents pointed to the picture on the right. Admittedly, the laboratory was my home office, and I was the only person in the room, but still...