I haven’t done a freestyle in a hot minute. Additionally, I haven’t posted anything in a hot minute, so swim this stream of consciousness with ya people right quick.
The news has been abuzz with talks of the four recent instances of air traffic controllers falling asleep during overnight shifts. This morning, the news referenced the FAA taking “drastic measures” to ensure this doesn’t happen again. How drastic? The FAA is implementing is an “anti-fatigue policy.” There will also be an additional person in the tower, as well as a member of management to occasionally ensure things are operating as they should. I can only imagine that the pictures-on-a-dart-board method of scheduling will now be a thing of the past. Are they serious? Being sensible and efficient is what qualifies as drastic? What if that lone individual has a medical emergency; or, heaven forbid, has to use the lavatory? FAA…you stupid.
As a person who will not hesitate to gas up the Hyundai and hit the road, I feel qualified to say that some people should really just fly. The left lane is the FAST LANE. It is not the place for you state your moral objection to these whipper snappers by driving one mile under the speed limit. It will get you flipped off, run over…or stabbed. Conversely, the right lane is NOT the fast lane. Therefore, there is no reason to ride my bumper when the left lane is readily available to you. Do it to me, and I will take absolutely no issue with making you my bitch by going the minimal speed limit. Cracker Barrel makes me ornery. And while we’re on the topic…
For those of you who have been to Cracker Barrel, do you also believe it to be a place full of stock characters. You’ve got three-five Elderly Parent/Middle Aged Offspring tables, two huge family groups, four regular sized family groups, two tables of blue haired ladies, four-five tables of elderly couples, and a maximum of three “stray negro” tables.* I won’t go into the fact that though the food is not spicy, you WILL have to procure police tape for your GI system.
This bears repeating: Not everything requires your input. Some people have this habit of being malicious under the guise of “just being truthful.” There will always be circumstances that require us to speak up on uncomfortable or contentious topics. Whether or not you are a rude jackass, however, is totally under your control. I say it all the time, but it can’t be said enough.
So, Turkish Airlines has Kobe as a spokesman? It’s so weird and random. There’s a joke in there somewhere – I’m just too lazy to find it. Plus, it’s Kobe, so cracking a joke is almost like cheating during an open book multiple choice test, right? Of course, that makes me doubly lazy, but ah well.
What is it about the male eye that prevents them from seeing…anything. I have a father, I have a brother, I’ve been married and I have a son. The number of times I’ve heard, “Where’s my…?” followed by an exasperated “Yes” when asked if they looked [insert obvious place here], only to discover it in plain sight is astounding. There was a study that showed that even when it comes to personal appearances, men and women see things differently. (I can’t remember where. Google. That’s what I’m gonna do.) Perhaps this also affects the ability to find socks and ties.
I can’t stay in hotel rooms ever without thinking about my dearly departed Foxy, giving our room the once over with her towel and old school Lysol in the brown bottle. I miss that lady so much. I’m convinced that if she pursued her education, rather than life as a housewife, she’d have been head honcho at the Center for Disease Control & Prevention. That woman could isolate and eradicate germs like no other.
And speaking of germs, women enjoy giving men crap for their sloppy ways. However, there is nothing more disgusting than a women’s public restroom. I’ll spare you the gory details, but I work in a professional environment, and you’d think I worked at a truck stop. Disgusting.
I love the centered feeling drama-free road trips give me. I wasn’t even stressed by the fact that my favorite CD was scratched, and found the radio to be uncharacteristically agreeable on Sunday. I actually smelled fresh mountain breezes, yo. Tide isn’t lying. I had the windows down, and in the middle of nowhere, all of a sudden everything smelled like fresh laundry, for about 30 minutes. good times. I need to do this even more often in the spring.
*Often stared at by at least two of the elderly table couples.