Sign of a Crazed Caregiver
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Yep ... what caregiver-parent over the age of 30 could survive without "stickies?"
If you didn't know, stickies replace those memory cells that seem to evaporate with each year.
I find it most helpful to put these on my kitchen counter, which I pass by countless times in the day.
Consumerism Hall of Shame: Chapter 2
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
One day not long ago, the people at Zephyrhills Water in Florida were sitting around the table, stewing over ideas on how to make more money.
Person A: "We need to make bottled water more SEXY! I mean, look how boring this looks:
Person B: "Yeah, who would buy that?"
Person C: "Actually, a buttload of people already do buy it ... if you can believe that! Ha!"
Person A: "But we could get more people to buy it."
Person B: "Yes!" he says, rubbing his hands together greedily. "MORE people! MORE money! But how?"
Person C: "Hey! I've got it!" She takes out her pen and quickly draws this:
"See? we give it some curves, like some sexy young woman, and men'll love putting their hands around it."
Person B: "Brilliant! And, of course, women will like it, too, because the girth will be easier on their smaller hands. And ... OMG! WAIT! Guess what? If we change the bottles to look like this we're actually taking away an ounce or two of space for water. And ... OMG! That means MORE MONEY because we don't have to use as much water!"
Person C: "Yes! And we can change the price. We'll make it EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE ... and we can get away with it because of that sexy new shape!"
Person A: "Brilliant."
Person B: "Yes, brilliant. Time for a cocktail."
Consumerism Hall of Shame: Chapter 1
Monday, November 17, 2008
I have noticed a few disturbing things over the past year or so, and they all involve Corporate America trying to screw us. This week I will be Ad Hudler Devoted Consumer Watchdog. Ralph Nader is getting a little old, after all, and someone needs to pick up the Baton of Consumer Rights and make that next lap or two.
Today: Bar Soap. I switch out bar soaps all the time so I feel I can say I am an expert in this area. And here is the reality: THEY ARE SCREWING US! Think back: Remember when a bar of soap used to linger in your shower for at least two or three months? And you always WANTED it to shrink, knowing how nice it was to break in a fresh bar.
Well, I don't know if you've noticed this, but a bar of mega-mass-produced soap -- and take your pick: Dial, Coast, Irish Spring, whatever -- now appears to last for three days. Okay, an exaggeration, but guys ... really, haven't you noticed how soap these days seems to disappear as quickly as a Lifesavers candy on the tongue? Yes, I am older, and therefore my memory might not be as good as it once was ... and I am bigger than I used to be, more body to soap up. But, no: They've obviously done something to shorten the bar's life. Are they whipping more air into it? I have also experimented with the fancier soaps, the ones you buy in organic markets that are made with things like aloe vera and lavender, etc. And you know what? THOSE soaps last for MONTHS! I'm serious; I end up throwing them away because I grow weary of the smell. So something is definitely wrong here.
If anyone has an older bar of mass-produced soap they found while cleaning out their dead grandpa's house or something ... please send it to me. I will conduct an experiment, timing how long it takes for the older bar to evaporate vs. the newer bars, and I will capture it on video. And then, who knows, I just might go all Michael Moore on the soap people and show up on their granite doorstep and demand restitution.
A question for the people at Tanqueray
Friday, November 14, 2008
For years we've been eating breakfast cereals sprayed with vitamins. We've been drinking waters and juices infused with anti-oxidants. So I am left to wonder: Why can't they do the same thing with gin and bourbon and beer? Now, wouldn't that be handy and dandy!
I love finding random photos on the www. But hey ... these girls don't look old enough to be drinking cocktails, do they?
Ants in the pans
Thursday, November 13, 2008
So I invited my Organic-Foodie friend over for dinner, and we were cooking in the kitchen when I noticed an ant crawling on the countertop, which is hard to see because my countertops are black. But I noticed him just the same ... and then another ... and another ... oh, and there was another one, carrying a fleck of oatmeal up the backsplash. The little bastards were camouflaged on the dark countertop, but suddenly I saw an army of them.
I went to my kitchen drawer to retrieve my secret weapon. You know the drawer. Every kitchen has one: the EVERYTHING DRAWER. Here's mine:
Okay, now where is that stuff.....I see yeast and a weather radio, masking tape and hi-liters and tape measures and flashlights and all those power adaptors from long-dead cell phones ... Oh, yes, there you are!!
I plucked my little clear bottle of Terro Ant Killer from the drawer. It is basically borax mixed with sugary sweet stuff, which the little buggers love.
"What are you doing? What is that?" my friend asked.
"Borax."
"Oh, don't use borax in your kitchen! All you need is a little peppermint oil, and you can spread it along the splashboard there where they're walking. And then there's no poison being used."
"And then they'll simply find another place to go," I said. "It's just like putting up a road block. No ... this'll kill em dead! And it's great fun. Watch this."
I poured a dime-size puddle on the counter. Like metal filings around a magnet, they immediately attached themselves and started lapping up the Terro. At this point, when I'm by myself, I start talking to them in my witch-from-Hansel-and-Gretel voice, saying something like, "Yes, my little darlings. Eat all that you want. Yeeeeesssss, isn't that delicious? Now take that poison home to the queen and KILL HER!!! ... Mmmmmmm, isn't that yummy? Yes, my little precious ones ... eat. Eaaaaaaaaaat."
It was very hard keeping this inside my head, but I managed to do so.
$hameful promotion: It's Christmas time, and all of us are feeling poor this year. A thoughtful and cheap present would be a copy of Ad Hudler's newest novel,
"Man of the House". Floridians have been loving this book because it is set in the hurricane season of 2005. It's been getting great reviews, and The New York Post called it "required reading." I can inscribe a personalized greeting and sign the book on an adhesive book plate, which I can send to you via the good ol' USPS.
--I'm Ad Hudler, and I support this message.
Something we need: Refrigerator Alert System
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
And this is how it works: Every day, early in the morning, an electronic brain in the refrigerator takes stock of things inside that haven't been touched for at least a week. And then it transmits a message to a marquee on the front of the refrigerator door, blinking in red letters as you walk past: "Cottage Cheese! Remember you have cottage cheese in here. Mmmmmm. How about some cottage cheese with sliced peaches? Doesn't that sound good?"
And you think, "Hey! I'd forgotten all about that cottage cheese." Because how many times do we buy something and forget that we've bought it, and it lingers there in some dark corner, behind the pickles and olives and cabbage?
A new blemish in the language
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
There's this very annoying trend among millions of people today that makes me, you know, angry. And, you know, you can hear it in conversations among teenagers and, you know, adults, and just about anywhere, you know, even in movies and on TV. And, you know, I really don't know where it came from, these annoying two words. And I'm not sure why we're, you know, infusing them into just about every sentence these days. I'm guessing that, you know, it's because we've completely devalued the spoken word with all the mindless, unnecessary chatter on cell phones and text messages and talk-tv and talk radio ... and so, you know, we feel the need to make a stronger case for whatever we're saying so we, you know, add a few "you knows" to try to convince increasingly skeptical listeners who, you know, probably aren't listening anyway?
Buy Ad's books on Amazon.com:
