Someone Left a Shopping Cart in Memory Lane

I'm always mildly entertained when I remember fragments of my childhood that should have been lost over time. Recently, I recalled a moment when I could actually ride in a shopping cart in a grocery store without being on the receiving end of unpleasant stares and unwarranted harassment from store employees. Despite my age, I know that my weight is significantly lower than that of some of the children who ride in those carts. There should be no problem whatsoever, but there are individuals who have nothing better to do than crush the joys and dreams of a Toys R Us kid such as myself. I suppose said people may never have had the privilege of riding in a shopping cart as a child, thus justifying their bewildered state at seeing me, a twenty-four-year-old man, enjoying the hairpin turns and sudden stops that only such a magical vehicle can provide. They can tell my body to exit the vehicle, but my heart will never truly leave it. Alas, the loss of youth can be such a terrible thing, indeed. However, shopping cart tangents aside, a life-changing event was about to take place. Due to the inescapable truth that I would have to attend school the next day, which was tomorrow back then, my mood was not in the best of, well, moods. On top of that, mom had yelled at me yet again for taking a coupon we did not intend to use out of one of the electronic coupon dispensers. How could I help myself? Whenever I pulled a coupon for a thirty-five cent discount off of soy sauce out, a doppelganger mysteriously came forth from the recesses of the machine to take its place. Fascinating! Again, my mood was significantly sullied. Suddenly, as if sent from Heaven above, my downtrodden eyes gazed upward and beheld the most amazing toy I had ever seen. Words could not describe the creature that hung before me, so a description with words will not be attempted here and now. Regardless, it was unjust for such a majestic and anthropomorphically advanced being to be confined within a prison of cardboard, plastic and twist-ties. Take you home? Free you? Play with you? I could not resist his call. I grabbed my mother's arm oh-so-gently and whispered, "Mother, dearest. Despite our differing opinions as to the seizing of coupons, I greatly appreciate you bringing me into this world and am truly grateful for the myriad blessings and positive effects you have provided in my life." She blinked twice, then knelt down so she could meet me eye to eye. Then she replied softly, "Ryan. First, stop talking as if you're older than I am. It's creepy. Second, you must promise me that you will not take any more coupons from the electronic coupon dispensers." I did not even have to mull the deal over. Coupons had nothing on the creature that was staring back at me with pupil-less eyes. I told her so. Mother smiled and took her right hand in mine. Her hand shook mine, thus sealing the agreement. With the other hand, she unhooked my new best friend with grace and ease. My little hands grasped the package firmly, but with the greatest of care. Mother circled around to the cart's handle, wrapped her hands around the bar and began the long and arduous journey to the front cashier. A great deal of time would pass before I could become truly acquainted with my new best friend, but nothing could wipe the smile from my face. Not even the thought of school the next day.

You've Got To Be Kidding Me...

First and foremost, watch this video, which occurred at a Planned Parenthood meeting on November 20, 2007. Obama was describing a jab from Alan Keyes about his sex education policies during his run for Senate in 2004. Enjoy.



Are you serious?! Kindergarten?! One, sex education should not be a school's responsibility. That is a parent issue all the way. Two, Kindergarten?! Girls have and always will have cooties, but Kindergarten boys are more susceptible to contracting cooties than you're typical adult male. Three, "age appropriate...science-based sex education" rather than abstinence? Is there such a thing for children of that age? I seriously doubt it! The mere existence of this statement appalls me. Also, I find it entertaining that he throws his opponent's statement out there as if it's false, then confirms it! Listen to the laughter! "I remember him, uh, using this in his campaign against me, saying, 'Barack Obama supports teaching sex education to kindergartners.' (laughter) And, you know, which -- I didn't know what to tell him. (more laughter). But it's the right thing to do. (nervous laughter from 3 people who still think it's a joke, but the rest of the room is silent)." These are his supporters and even they don't know how to react!

The Illinois bill was S.B.99 (http://www.ilga.gov/legislation/fulltext.asp?DocName=09300SB0099lv&DocTypeID=SB&GA=93&print=true). The bill is scary because it allows all grades from Kindergarten to 12 to learn the same curriculum. The bill doesn't specify "x" grades should learn "y" material. "All course material and instruction in classes that teach sex education and discuss sexual activity or behavior shall be age and developmentally appropriate." That is an incredibly vague statement. Who chooses what is "age and developmentally appropriate?" If it's the same people who believe: evolution should be taught as scientific fact, creationism is the view of ignorant religious fanatics and memorization of the Periodic Table is necessary, then to say that my trust in their judgment is severely lacking is about as unnecessary as saying a squash fruit roll-up is gross; it goes without saying. Granted, parents can prevent their kids from learning the curriculum without fear of suspension or expulsion, but the possibility of 5-8 year-olds learning about rape scares me.

People will argue that kids will learn all the information by watching television anyway, but should teachers really shoulder that responsibility? In many cases, should teachers be trusted with that responsibility? Should Mary Kay Letourneau be teaching kids sex education? I find the thought of a 34-year-old pedophile teaching the importance of sexual restraint to potential victims disturbing. Heck, there are a lot of teachers who lead shamelessly irresponsible sex lives. I wouldn't want any of them teaching my future kids about sex either.

"Course material and instruction shall be free of racial, ethnic, gender, religious, or sexual orientation biases." Interesting. The first topic that comes to my mind when I see this is: homosexuality should not be taught as wrong. They may not promote kids to be homosexual, but it will not be considered a sin either. This leaves a lot of elbow room for teachers to "broaden" a child's perspective on current sexual views and trends. If a teacher is gay, I can pretty much guarantee that he or she will feel inclined to push their agenda. However, the same can be said for Christian teachers as well. The fact of the matter is 100% human objectivity is a pipe dream. I will always have an opinion about _________ topic. The chances of me teaching children that homosexuality is a normal and acceptable sexual orientation are nonexistent. If I were gay (and I assure all readers that I have never played Devil's Advocate to such an impossible and extreme degree as I am now), then I would have a difficult time not teaching kids to accept my sexual orientation. That's the way the world spins. If one has an opinion on the subject, then one is biased in one way or another. Anyone who says otherwise is either naive, suffering from denial or lying through their teeth.

It's amazing how my view of Obama continues to decrease as I learn more about him. The man is utterly devoid of biblical morality. Heck, he's even devoid of worldly morality. The fact that people (especially Christians) are willing to entrust the future of our country to this man is frightening to say the least. His moral compass puts a helicopter to shame. He has the potential to strip much of the country of any sort of decency. Morality, despite popular belief, is not a fluid concept when compared to God's Word and teaching a generation of children sex education in tandem with reading and coloring is wrong.

Those Words Are So Fresh! Snap!

First and foremost, I'd like to set these poems up. Years ago a friend of mine drew a picture of an elf holding a rose with a very neutral look on his face. By that I mean you really couldn't tell what he was feeling by looking at his face. He could have been deep in thought or mourning. Because of that, my friend wanted to draw two backgrounds for this elf: one that would be light and pretty and another that would be dark and gloomy. I decided that I would write two poems to match the mood of the two pictures. My friend never lifted a finger to finish the pictures, but my poems took about 6 months to complete. The main reason why I wanted to clear that up is because when people read these, they assume that the two are chronological and that the second is the end. That is incorrect. They are two separate timelines that reflect on two separate possibilities. Also, they're supposed to be seen side by side because of certain patterns in rhyming and word usage, but I was unable to keep the layout intact, so use your imagination.

Duality

The woods of life,
Devoid of strife,
A blessing to bestow.

A meeting place,
Showered with grace,
A scene for love to grow.

A lovely rose,
Beneath his nose,
Smells sweet within his hand.

A symbol of,
His dainty love,
For whom he waits as planned.

With fervent sighs,
And zealous eyes,
His gaze begins to beam.

She rounds their tree,
He starts to see,
As if he's in a dream.

The pair embrace,
And then replace,
A scene of one with two.

Transgressions fought,
Now matter not,
For love will see them through.


Dichotomy

Once full of life,
The woods of strife,
Now mute from sorrow’s stain.

The resting place,
For his love’s grace,
Awakens subdued pain.

Tears on the rose,
Fall from his nose,
And fade within his grasp.

Memories of,
His stolen love,
Make joy and hope elapse.

His weathered sighs,
And misty eyes,
Won’t mend his broken heart.

Their favorite tree,
Makes his soul see,
Its life is torn apart.

Her warm embrace,
Time can’t replace,
Things won’t be as before.

He wipes his tears,
Despite his fears,
To learn to love once more.

Secrets Don't Make Friends

It's amazing how a passing thought can become a mental undertaking of significant revelation. I was in the shower the other day when I remembered riding by Victoria Gardens several months earlier with some friends. One of them happened to say "Victorias Garden" instead of the correct term, and one of the other passengers pointed out this fact. I had not only noticed the blunder, but I couldn't help but assume that he was going to say Victoria's Secret instead of the statement above. After the thought passed my mind, it remained dormant until I happened to stumble upon the memory in the shower the other day and it really made me ponder a subject that has had a tendency to plague my conscience from time to time. What is Victoria's secret? I mean, we all have secrets (though some may have more devious ones than others), but what could Victoria be hiding that is so mischievous, but so well hidden that she would not only reveal to the world that she has a secret, but name a lingerie store after her past action and not worry about anyone digging into her past and finding out? Such an open display of confidence to accompany her secrecy either means that she is incredibly playful or downright arrogant. What could it be? Does she have a phobia of having marshmallow fluff spread on her pinky toe with a pair of chopsticks while she's watching television? Could she have a disease that requires the constant use of an inhaler that spreads spicy curry in aerosol form through her respiratory system to prevent her from losing feeling in her pancreas? Was she abducted by aliens and forced to recite the abc's while shoving whipped cream into her nostrils in a vat of tuna melt Hamburger Helper? Suddenly, revelation struck me like the back of a pimp's hand to one of his non-union workers. What if Victoria's secret is that she isn't really Victoria. What if her real name is Victor. What if Victoria's secret is that she isn't a woman, but a man pretending to be one. The lingerie business would be left in complete and utter turmoil! Riots would break out in the streets and stocks would plummet to an all-time low! The world as we know it would be turned upside down and shaken around in the hopes that loose change will fall to the ground! Victor would be robbed of his secret and nothing would be left but the cold hard truth. Not to mention, his business' name would have to be changed to Victor Victoria's. Ew.

My Footstool To Fame

Alright, guys. I have a new idea for a soda flavor. Hear me out on this one! Just the name is gonna make this one a winner. It's catchy, yet subtle. In-your-face, yet recessive. Clever, yet simple. Black, yet white. Cobra, yet GI Joe. Anyways, here it is. I'm dropping the bomb. Ready?

Vanilla Slice. YEAH! Think about it! Every time they hear "Ice, Ice Baby" they'll want to drink Vanilla Slice cuz it reminds them of Vanilla Ice. Every time they watch Ninja Turtles II, they'll drink Vanilla Slice throughout the entire moo-v because Vanilla Ice sings "Ninja Rap" at the end. Every time they buy something they don't need they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice bought plenty of stuff he didn't need because of the money he got from "Ice, Ice Baby". When they become depressed they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice became depressed when he spent all of his money he got from "Ice, Ice Baby" on things he didn't need and lost it all. Every time they buy a house they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice got all of his money back from renting out his real estate that he bought with the money he got from "Ice, Ice Baby". Finally, every time they watch MTV they'll drink Vanilla Slice because Vanilla Ice is on there from time to time to talk about how he got all the money he spent from "Ice, Ice Baby" back because he rented out real estate.

I'm telling you, guys, it can't fail! You may laugh now, or later, or you may not laugh at all. If I were to market this, the rubbing motion between my thumb and my index and middle fingers would not be in vain! However, I am far too lazy and I have no idea how to put vanilla in cake batter, much less soda. So, if they come out with that flavor, all of you who read this display of brilliance on my part will know that they stole it from me. As a matter of fact, if you steal it, I will eat your soul. And just to spite you, I'll learn how to add vanilla to it.

Gravy Train

Because of an ever-steady itch to write on occasion, I, Ryan, have decided to bless the web yet again with my blogs. There will be laughter. There will be tears. There will be consumption of banana parfaits. However, one thing will always remain certain. The world wide web will never be the same...