A MESSAGE OF HOPE FROM GOD

God came to me in a dream last night. He wasn't what I was expecting. He appeared to me as the diminutive actress Linda Hunt who starred in "The year of living dangerously" and most recently as "Stella" in the western, "Silverado." I said to him, "Oh my God, you're Linda Hunt!" She said, "Who were you expecting, Morgan Freeman?" I told her no and that I couldn't put a face on such an inexplicable entity. She smiled and sat next to me. She was at least half my size. I told her that for a God, she was pretty tiny. She said that the idea of God is small but not easily understood by many. She said that it was people who made God large and foreboding. "Good point," I said. "So, what do you want?" I asked. She said, "I have a list of things I'd like you to share with your readers and I like your style." I was flattered. Immediately, Charlton Heston and John Denver were in the room saying, "Hey, what about me?!" but Ms. Hunt silenced them by saying that they were dead and didn't have a blog. "Oh, yeah, right," they said and were gone.

 She then handed me a list of demands that she had made. I asked her why she needed a list? Why couldn't she just appear to everyone and tell them herself? She said, "Billions of people believe in me in some way or another. But, if I WERE to appear and claim to be God, who would believe me?" "Right," I said. "You'd be sharing a padded cell with other crazies!" "Exactly, and it's why I have you," she said. So, here, now, is the list that God gave me.

1) Don't call me unless it's an emergency!
Do you have any idea what reversed long distance charges do to my cell phone minutes? I have the trillion minute plan but I still get hit with the extra charge when I go over. And why do you insist on calling me while you're making love? it's always, "OH GOD!....OH GOD!....and I come running like a fool. And then I have to watch you make those silly faces. Very embarrassing! Oh, and another thing: I'm sick to my stomach at seeing you all naked. Have any of you looked at yourselves in the mirror lately? You've all swelled up like drowning victims. Here's some advice: Eat the fishes but pass on the loaves. Jeesh!

2) Must you pepper your conversations using my name ALL the time?
When I'm talking to my angels you don't hear me saying, "JERRY CLARK, how many times do I have to tell you guys to stop with the singing and rejoicing all the time. For BOB'S sake, can't a deity get some quiet around here once in a while?!" See how annoying that is? So, stop it or else. It's no skin off my nose to whip up some more hurricane Katrina's. What the hell, you blame ME for them anyway.

3) I am NOT pissed off. Stop blaming me for natural disasters, disease, famine, weather, and death.
Has it ever occurred to any of you that I am not angry? That I am not the cause of your strife? I have too much multi-tasking to do than to make mischief. In fact, I ignore you most of the time. Look, I built this whole place and stuck you on it. It is not cost effective to tear it all to pieces. You all do a pretty good job of that yourselves. Although, I DID do that big tsunami a few years back. Did you see how dirty you made my beach? How the hell else am I supposed to clean it? So, again, take responsibility for what happens around you. Don't think that I'll always come and bail you out like some drunken frat boy. Grow up, be responsible! If you don't, I WILL toss an asteroid your way. I did it before and I'll do it again!

4) Stop killing each other saying that I told you so.
I do not sanction death in my name. Besides, you've all got it all wrong. All of your separate dogma points to me in some way or another. But it has been by your own hands that you have edited my thoughts. You have all claimed to know what I am thinking. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I only think about one thing: How soon to the next round of "American Idol" tryouts. That stuff is funnier than 69 virgins. LOL!! So, stay out of my head. Put down your weapons and call a cease fire. I don't want you to kill anymore of my science experiment! Or, I'll evolve you all back into apes!

5) There really is no heaven or hell.
THAT was just bad press. Pure propaganda! There are only two absolutes that affect you all: Good and bad. You all should know the difference by now. Respect for nature and all my inventions is good. Processed food is bad. The only exception is ice cream. That's good AND bad. Heaven and hell are the choices you make. You either live your life treating others with respect and love (Heaven) or you commit pain and suffering to every one and every thing around you (Hell) I give you all ONE CHANCE to get it right. Don't waste it. You "Buddhists" are another story.

6) Don't ask me why you're there.
That's my little secret. Just enjoy yourselves while you can. It doesn't matter why you're there. It doesn't end when you do, I'll tell you that much. Each of you becomes a tiny part of the whole. There won't be any music, harps, clouds or dead relatives. You will reach a new level of consciousness. Do you know that weightless feeling you feel right before you pass out from too much "Jack Daniels?" THAT'S what death feels like. Don't be afraid. Be kind to each other. Love each other. Be nice to my planet or I'll make it so hot, you'll need 1,000,000 sun block.

How we are manipulated by fear

Fear: anxiety caused by real or possible danger. That is one of the definitions of fear according to Webster's New World Dictionary. All people fear something. Some fear more than others. My guess is that only a minute portion of the worlds population fear nothing. Which means somewhere, someone possess absolutely no fear of anything. Somewhere there is a human being cut off from the outside world safe from any natural predators and oblivious to the impending doom that is thrust down our throats on a daily basis. This person feels no anxiety, no fear for it's life, no dim outlook for the future. They are surrounded by complete bliss. The only emotion they experience is sheer joy. They have no access to Television. No access to radio. No Internet. No other human contact to supply them with apocalyptic certainty. They live in a vacuum. They sleep soundly at night and dream in total serenity. They have no need for pills, Doctors, Psychologists or Psychiatrists. Therapy is a foreign word. "Angst" has no meaning. Darkness turns to light, the sun passes overhead slowly leading into night and another day passes unremarkable. This person doesn't fear global warming, H1N1 virus, Aids, Ebola, depleted ozone layers, impending asteroid collisions, or National debt. Every time some robot newscaster reads the latest catastrophe or crisis from a teleprompter, they are immune. Right-wing talking heads that babble their opinions never reach their intended targets. Conspiracy theories never reach those ears. They never see the images of starving childrens' faces or see the devastation of earthquakes, hurricanes or tsunamis. They are immune to the fear that perpetuates our lives daily. And purposefully. Yes, fear of catastrophe is pushed upon us whether we like it or not. Because, with fear comes control. Control of the masses. If you live in constant fear all other aspects of life are trivial. The media figured out this tool during the fifties. Communism, the red scare was one of the earliest forms of control. Next, the cold war threat of nuclear annihilation taught us to fear for our lives and to run right out and buy bomb shelters. Children were conditioned to scramble under desks when the air raid sirens went off. During the sixties it was the threat of rock and roll music and the drugs associated with it that instilled fear in many of us. I was a young child during the sixties but I was never afraid of my 45 r.p.m. single, "I want to hold your hand, " by the Beatles. Should I have been afraid? And just when it looked like we had run out of things to fear, the media decided that we should fear black people. Organizations like The Black Panthers and black Muslims had the spot light shone on them. We were made to fear for our women and black empowerment. Radical student groups like the Weather underground instilled fear in us too. Then, the eighties arrived with a boon for the media to threaten us with more doomsday news: AIDS. Nothing like a slow, painful deadly epidemic to make most of us panic. Unprotected sex with a stranger signed your death warrant according to the media. Evangelicals had a field day claiming this newest threat was God's punishment for our Sodom  and Gomorrah lifestyle. And what greater fear is there than God's wrath?  But then something truly momentous happened: the Berlin wall came tumbling down and the most amazing thing happened: absolutely nothing. So, with an old threat now realized as no threat at all, the media needed something new: global warming. What a coup! A whole planet to instill fear upon. Another great catastrophe in the making to feed the fear machine. Oh, and let us not forget that other fear in-stiller: the drying up of our crude oil supplies. Yes indeed, anyone with a car had yet another reason to lose sleep. What will we do when the oil runs out? How will we cope with pharmaceuticals dumped in our water supply? AND WHAT ON EARTH WILL WE DO ABOUT THE TERRORISTS! Can you hear the media giants glasses clinking at the new endless supply of nightly news terror? Keep that alert on orange and watch the sales of Valium, Ativan and Xanax go through the roof. Say the words, "weapons of mass destruction" enough times and you will have people sleeping under their beds and duct-taping their houses shut. When people live in constant fear big business thrives. Drug manufacturers, gun manufacturers, home alarm systems companies all benefit from our fear. With the crisis of global warming looming over our heads and our children's heads, all alternative energy companies benefit. But it is the media that benefits the most. We glue our heads to the Television so we can be informed of the next crisis, the next catastrophe, the next natural disaster, the next car bomb explosion and all it's carnage. We as a nation are being manipulated. We are shown only the pain, suffering, atrocities, and acts of terror that occurs on this planet. There is no uplifting news, only death and tragedy. It is plain to see why people have panic attacks, anxiety attacks, lock their doors and refuse to be on the streets at night. We are being oppressed by fear; made to live in fear by what we are told and by what we see. The truth is obscured and manipulated by those whose job it is to report it to us unbiased. We need to question authority. We need to question the source. We need to understand who stands the most to gain by keeping us living in fear. "We have nothing to fear but fear itself" should be our mantra. Open your doors, step outside into the sun and be glad to be alive. Fear cannot hurt you if it is manufactured in your own imagination. Peace.

ADVICE FOR ALL: UNDERSTANDING TELL-TALE SIGNS

Money is an amazing thing. Money buys you a five cent piece of gum or it buys you unlimited power and influence. Money will also buy you an education. How well you use that education depends on many things. Geographic location, culture, access to literature and fine arts and your innate level of intelligence determined at birth are all contributing factors. Unfortunately for some, all or most of those factors are lacking which sometimes makes navigating through life a little difficult. Things that might seem crystal clear to some may be blurred or confusing to others.

Take for example, the ability to know when someone has left this world. That observation may seem like a task that cannot be mistaken, but apparently there are those among us who were short changed in the aforementioned education department. For that specific group I will now list certain signs that a loved one has departed.

1) Loss of appetite
2) Inability to hold a conversation
3) Fails to laugh at "American Idol" tryouts
4) Won't say, "bless you" after you sneeze
5) Personal hygiene is no longer a concern
6) Refuses to answer the phone
7) Forces you to guess what they want on their pizza
8) Shows little sign of joy when children or grandchildren come to visit
9) Will sit for hours listening to visiting Jehovah witnesses
10) Refuses to file income taxes

Some or all of these signs can be ignored by people in the general vicinity of a deceased person who have failed to reach a certain level of intelligence. CLICK HERE to read about just such people. I only wish I had published this article say, eight months ago. I could have spared many people the responsibility of guessing.

ADVICE TO ALL BIGFOOT EXPERTS: WE'RE ON TO YOU!

Today I had an epiphany while watching "weird news" videos on MSN. The question that has vexed me for so long was finally answered: Why are there "BIGFOOT" sightings? Because certain WHACKO people crave attention. Case in point.

         Recently, in San Antonio, Texas (trouble already) an anonymous caller told police (hint #1) that a "large and tall, hairy creature was spotted dragging a dear carcass into the woods." The caller gave a small stretch of woods right next to highway 1604 as the location of the sighting. According to the news woman handling the story, police "found nothing" along the path that the caller described, (hint #2.) BUT WAIT! Seemingly out of nowhere pops up Rick Tullos, head of (get this) "The Gulf Coast Bigfoot Research Organization" complete with logo patch on his hat and camouflage jacket, (hint #3.) We spend the next 30 seconds watching Rick and the news woman walking through the woods looking for clues. As they are walking along a path not TEN FEET  from busy highway 1604 with cars whizzing by, the news woman looks down to see a pile of manure right before her.
"Is this from the creature?" she asks Rick. As the cameraman zooms in for a closeup of the mysterious manure, Rick says, "Nope. Cow pie." WHAT!! ARE YOU INSANE?? Cows walking along an UN-FENCED strip of grass right next to a busy highway. I don't think so. I think Rick almost stepped in what he's selling! But Rick isn't done garnering attention just yet. Lo and behold, Rick stumbles upon tracks that according to him, "don't seem human!" (hint #4) Nope, he'll analyze the tracks and "hopefully find some more" as he puts it. At this point the cameraman zooms in on what looks like ruts in the grass and underbrush. They looked nothing like tracks to me. I think it's pretty obvious to everyone who's responsible for this bit of shenanigans don't you? Everybody needs a hobby. Some collect stamps. Others collect baseball cards while others travel the country looking for elusive creatures that THEY invent. All for a little attention. Now, if you want some REAL attention, cheat on your wife!

Love or money? The Tiger Woods debate.

Didn't I just recently write an article about how men can easily take a relationship and flush it down the toilet? I guess a certain golf player missed that one. Which luckily, gives me a topic to expand on today. By now, unless you live in a cave, you know that golf wonder boy Tiger Woods is guilty (by his own words) of "transgressions." It never ceases to amaze me the vast number of colloquial terms we have invented to describe our mistakes. When we lie, it's a "fib" or a "white lie." Why does adding a color to it make it okay? Is a "black lie" worse? When we steal, it's called a "misappropriation" or "shoplifting." When we kill someone it's called "manslaughter." If a man accidentally kills a woman, shouldn't it be called "womanslaughter?" Well, it's not and you know why? Because "womanslaughter" sounds way too terrible. "Manslaughter" sounds much better. But I digress. Back to the Tiger. HE CHEATED ON HIS WIFE! BROKE HIS MARRIAGE VOW! Allegedly, not with one, not with two, but with THREE WOMEN!! That's three life sentences in HELL if you believe in that sort of thing. "Transgressions" indeed!

         WOMENS DAY magazine recently conducted a poll asking women "would you stay if your husband cheated?" Of the women polled, 35% said "yes" while 65% said "no." "Maybe" and "it depends" were not options. This tells me that out of every one hundred  women at least thirty-five have been cheated on. But I'm willing to bet that the number is MUCH higher. So sad. What is wrong with men? Is making a lifetime commitment to just one woman so impossible? Is being in love and making love to the same woman so painful? Is just a few minutes of self-gratification with a different woman worth losing the one you have? Look, if you're a man who can't keep it in his pants then you have no business being married. Lying and cheating on your spouse is not fair to her. In the grand scheme of things a divorce is far less painful to a woman than  having her husband cheat on her. It is degrading to her and totally saps her self-esteem. THAT is something you do to your enemies, not to the woman who you considered your friend and wife.

           But apparently, on the subject of Tiger's "transgressions," most of the comments from men that I read on message boards seem to slap him on the back or encourage his bad behavior. He is now the hero of most ignorant men and the scourge of faithful women. And what does the media make of all this? "How will this hurt the TIGER WOODS brand?" Give me a break. He took a backhoe and dug himself a giant hole. Are we to feel sorry for him? Should we forget the whole thing? Frankly, I don't really care what happens to him. I only feel one thing: empathy towards his poor wife for having to suffer through this. BUT WAIT A MINUTE! She is not poor. On the contrary, she was just offered $5,000,000 to stay with her husband AND her revised pre-nup will give her an additional $55,000,000 if she stays for a total of ten years. Oh how silly of me, I forgot how boat loads of cash make up for everything and help people to forget. Right.

          When events like this happen, women are the losers. The message is clear: men, go ahead and cheat. If you've got enough money in the bank you can fix it. All can be undone with cash. Nothing will change until men view women as equals. Until they can see the world through their eyes. Until THEY have to go through life wondering when THEIR spouse will toss promises to the wind and cheat on them.

         On Sunday, December 6, I am getting married. My fiance and I have written our own vows, or promises if you like, and I intend to keep mine. When two people find each other and realize that no other substitutes will do, shouldn't a simple promise to be faithful be enough? If, as a man, you can't unequivocally answer "yes," then you have no business being married. Peace.

Advice for all: How to avoid bloodshed on Thanksgiving Day!

Isn't it sad that I have to write an article like this regarding such a family oriented occasion? But, without fail, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, I always find an article about death or bloodshed at the Thanksgiving table. So sad! There are no logical reasons to kill family members on this occasion, but people die nevertheless. Maybe one reason for this is the "feeding frenzy" mentality that accompanies the anticipation of a large, mouthwatering meal. Deep inside, we are all still animals and maybe some instincts cannot be controlled. With this in mind I have compiled a list of what not to do on thanksgiving day to stay alive. I hope this helps!

1) The first time being in someone else's home  for Thanksgiving dinner.
The goal here is to try not to create tension in a new environment. No matter what, do not question why your host has to have 3 Christmas trees up at the same time. Maybe they're taking a botany class. And never comment on it being "too early" to put up the tree. Not everyone shares the same time schedule. Try to ignore the life size crucifix hanging in the foyer that greets you as soon as you walk in. Never comment on this! Remember, religion is one of those 'touchy' subjects that one should never discuss. Pay no attention to a house so cluttered that you need a "YOU ARE HERE" map just to find your way to the nearest bathroom. Not EVERYBODY has a housekeeper so try to hide that look of chaos on your face, 'Buffy.'
While navigating through someone's home, never open closed doors, enter, and rifle through dresser drawers and closets, unless you're absolutely sure that you haven't been followed. Any incriminating evidence you find should be kept secret until things get 'dicey' at the dinner table. Never assume that YOU can sit at the end of the table. THIS is reserved for (a) the cook. (b) the woman of the house. (c) the man of the house. (d) the grandparent residing in the house. The one with the flatulence problem, or (e) anyone in a wheelchair. You will sit where you're told to, DAMMIT, and be quiet about it! Every turkey ever hatched has only two drumsticks. There are 12 of you sitting around the table. You have a 1 in 6 chance of getting a leg and those are crappy odds. A sure fire way to end up in an ambulance en-route to the nearest hospital is claim one of these for your own. Your best bet is to wait until everyone has taken what they want off the 'meat' tray, then should there be a lone leg on said tray, grab for that sucka' with both hands.

2) Hosting the Thanksgiving meal.
AHA! Here you have the 'home' advantage. There are steps you can take to minimize the violence. One is to have a big screen television blaring the Thanksgiving day football game. Men are easily distracted by this and will blindly follow the commotion until they reach the living room and plop themselves down on a couch. It's best to herd them all into one place to keep an eye on them. Have a CO2 fire extinguisher on hand to control any arguments over 'foul calls' or 'player stats.' Another thing to do is to 'weapon proof' the house. Remove all machine guns, rifles, pistols, paintball guns, crossbows, knives, swords, darts, pool cues, pool balls, fireplace utensils, baseball bats, hockey sticks, rolling pins, scissors, nail clippers and safety razors. Pre-cut every ounce of food you plan to serve into bite-sized portions and set the table with spoons only. Bury ALL your knives and forks in the back yard just to be safe. If you are hosting a large part of your family for Thanksgiving dinner, here are some subjects that you should NEVER discuss. (a) religion ;see above. (b) politics. (c) anyone recently "coming out of the closet." (d) revising your parents' will. (e) who those parents should stay with because they're not staying in MY house, DAMMIT!
Try and limit the amount of alcohol served. A bunch of drunk, stuffed, hot and sweaty relatives cramped around a table normally built for six is a recipe for danger. DO NOT SERVE CRANBERRY SAUCE! No one really knows what this stuff is made from. And the fact that it resembles the inside of the can it just came out of, while sitting  there on a large, white plate, just creates anxiety and confusion. Diffuse the situation. As soon as the last bit of pie has been eaten and there isn't a drop of coffee left, bring all of the coats out from off of the master bedroom's bed, and hand them out. The quicker a crowd disperses, the more lives you can save. Happy Thanksgiving.

Why you shouldn't fear crop circles and other musings.

As I sit at my keyboard typing this article, I have music playing in the background. I am having difficulty seeing the keys through my tears. Yes, I am crying. Why? Because I am listening to Bob Dylan's, "Christmas in the heart," and it has to be the funniest thing I've ever heard. He has absolutely no voice left (like he could sing before?) and so he is crucifying (no pun intended) fifteen classic Christmas songs. If you need a great 'GAG' gift or know a true die hard Dylan fan, buy this CD. It will be the best $14.00 you ever spent! Now, to continue.

          Okay, we are all aware how ALL department stores have an incredible sale the day after X-mas, right? Aren't we all feeling the effects of this recession? Wouldn't you like to get more bang for your buck this year? Do you see where I'm going with this? It's time to beat the retailers at their own game!
POSTPONE CHRISTMAS FOR TWO DAYS! There, I said it! And why not? If you've got kids here's what you tell them: Tell them that if they want Christmas to come when it always does, that they will get a few presents. Then, ask them  if they can wait ONLY two extra days, they'll get LOTS of presents! If you haven't any kids or you are alone or have just a spouse, give it a thought. The stores won't be as wacky, most everyone will be waiting in that long RETURN line, so shop all day and save hundreds.

Crop circles. They pop up everywhere. I have applied some simple logic to their origin and I have concluded that they are not created by aliens, so there is no reason to fear them. Of course, if you saw the movie, "Signs," you may argue my point, but first, hear me out.
1) They have to be smarter than us.
A smart alien has better things to do than to fly millions of miles to earth, land, and then draw some unexplainable pattern in the landscape that one can only really appreciate from above. Most of these patterns seem to be pointing to something. What? A Walmart? A Target? The nearest McDonalds? They point nowhere. An alien would have it pointing to our nearest defense system, so forget about it.

2) Aliens have big heads.
"And so?" you may be asking. Well, most of these circles appear in large fields. Fields of grass or wheat or corn. Do you remember the sinus headache you get when 'hay fever' season rolls around? Great, now imagine having a big alien head. Now, imagine the headache that accompanies it. Now, imagine that you're an alien. Need I say more?

3) Aliens have to be discreet.
Mankind is so dumb that if an alien did ever land, we'd blow it to smithereens. Aliens are smart so they know this. Therefore, it makes no sense that aliens would come during the dark cover of night, spend hours making some dopey symbol, then leave, leaving the symbol as evidence that they were here. Starting to see it my way now, aren't you?

Crop circles are made by college students with a calculus degree. Actually, anyone can make a crop circle. All you need is stakes, a sledgehammer, a few different lengths of rope and a bunch of friends that have too much time on their hands. Wait a minute. Remember how hard it is just to find two friends to help move a couch, let alone trample through a damp field, in the dark, making some incoherent symbol, all to perpetuate some kind of hoax? Fine! It's aliens then.

When it's no longer necessary to speak

The Queens, New York neighborhood that I grew up in during the sixties, easily numbered between 50 and 60 kids. We were an adolescent melting pot consisting of Italians, Germans, Irish, English and Africans. Most of us were second or third generation, and we all spoke English. When we weren’t in school, or confined by inclement weather, we were outside because that’s where everything happened. It would not be uncommon to see thirty kids playing tag or stick ball. We would discuss amongst ourselves all the topics of importance: who had the most baseball cards? Who received a new bike for their birthday? Who knew anything about the birds and the bees? Who wanted to be what when they grew up? Our mothers would stand on their porches and call out for us at dinner time, and after literally inhaling our food, we’d practically tear the screen door off its hinges trying to get back to our friends. The only delay would be the obligatory questions from our parents in regards to our day. Outside, we’d play various games until dark until our numbers started to dwindle as our mothers would once again emerge, yell and depart.
No one feared the outside world. If a stranger ever wandered down our street looking for trouble, a child to prey on, he was met by an undivided front, fearless in the protection of one of its own. If all of our collective parents didn’t know each other by name, you can bet they knew the names of every kid from our block. We were a community. If somebody fell ill, or got caught up in drugs, or was in a family crisis, we cared. There were no secrets. We’d never think twice about gathering at someone’s home to offer our help. We held block parties, birthday parties and sleepovers. Our mothers played cards with each other on Wednesday nights and volunteered their time to be den mothers when we became cub scouts. At night, in our homes, we’d watch television together, laugh together, talk to each other.
Fast forward to today. Seldom do you see children playing outside. A child will spend hours alone with a “Game Boy” or “X-Box” or a “Wii.” And those are not exclusively for children. Adults will not hesitate to do the same. A lot of teenagers have discovered “online gaming,” where many of them can log on to a game screen and using a microphone and an assumed name, can communicate with each other while gunning down various antagonists. All while safely alone in their rooms. I can’t speak for anyone else, but the whole concept just creeps me out.
Today we have Facebook and Myspace where kids and adults volunteer personal information about themselves while silently waiting for someone to come along, notice them and then start to “chat,” letting their keyboards do all the work. The days of, “Tell so and so that I like them,” are gone. So are formal introductions. And then there’s email, which has practically replaced the telephone and the spoken word as the new means of communication. No longer do you have to look someone in the eye and tell them they’re fired. Or, you don’t love them anymore. Or, a loved one has died. You can safely hide behind your keyboard, express any thought or emotion, and never say a word. Today, a conversation between two people using their mouths and ears is almost as outdated as a cassette tape.
How did we ever survive without a cell phone? A marvel of our time. The freedom to talk to virtually anyone, anywhere at anytime and how have we, as thinking mammals with functioning voice boxes exploited its versatility? By “text messaging” each other. Genius! Again, we can sidestep the intimate quality of the human voice and read our messages instead.
There are countless numbers of websites that help you find friends, lovers and trysts. No longer do you have to wash up, dress up, and mosey on down to the local bar, supermarket, bookstore, church, or restaurant to meet someone new. Your keystrokes will break the ice and you can pour your heart out to cyberspace. Granted, for those amongst us who are painfully shy this is a godsend, but there is no substitute for the excitement you feel when you are face to face with someone new, look them in the eye and say, “It’s really nice to meet you!”
My opinion is that the modernized human race is slowly evolving into a species that will eventually come full circle. Thousands of years ago we started out as individuals living in caves with no formal means of verbal communication. Slowly, over time, we learned to speak common sounds that would translate into language. From there we taught each other, shared ideas, and connected with each other. We became a community. But the gameboy and online gaming and dating sites and personal sites and emails and text messaging require little to no oral communication. We can isolate ourselves and not have to speak to each other. All sense of community will be lost. We will revert back to what we were: alone, in our caves typing away as our keyboards do all the talking. I can see it now: I’m ninety, in a nursing home and I’m trying to get an attendant’s attention. My bedpan needs to be emptied, but keyboard is useless because, just my luck, I have arthritic fingers. People, talk to each other!

* Used with permission by The Next 50.

The 'DO' and 'DON'T' of Internet Dating

For all you folks out there in cyberland, either in the middle of or about to embark on using Internet dating sites as a way to get shot in the butt by 'Cupid', here is some invaluable advice.
1) Pick a site. Gee, how they have multiplied! Today, there are plenty to choose from. Some sites act as nothing more than a database where you the user do all the work, navigating from profile to profile trying to determine winners from losers, sane from stark raving mad, saints from sinners. If challenges are what you seek out of life, go with these. Other sites require you to fill out PAGES AND PAGES of information regarding EVERYTHING from 'favorite color' to 'if you saw a person crossing the street carrying a 'WOOLWORTH'S' bag and they were hit by a speeding ambulance carrying a heart attack victim whose wife cheats on him, would you shop at 'WOOLWORTH'S'? THESE sites do most of the matchmaking chores for you providing you with the number one person for you on the planet. Good luck with that! I'm a strong believer in balance, so find a site that helps as much as possible but gives you plenty of options. Remember, variety is the spice of life. I think a Sultan said that.
2) LIES, LIES, NOTHING BUT LIES! Everyone knows what a lie is. Our mothers taught us about those. Remember how soap tastes? Sorry to bring back painful memories but I had to make a point. Every site you choose will make you fill out a PROFILE. This is what represents you to the love searching world. This is where you will provide pertinent information about yourself. This is where you will lie! And we all know about lies. They can lie dormant for years until one day they show up at your door. Then, the truth comes out. So, where am I going with this? When filling out your initial profile information you will be confronted with questions like: AGE, BODY TYPE, PERSONALITY, LIKES AND DISLIKES, etc., etc. You will be given a list of choices to answer all of these questions. This is where you'll want to lie, but this is the most important place to be honest. 'AGE' is the easiest place to lie. Don't fall into this trap. If you type in 41 but in reality look like your grandmother or grandfather, there's going to be some 'splaning to do. Nobody likes surprises. Under 'BODY TYPE', if you've put on a few extra pounds since high school graduation, be honest. Type it in. If you are so thin that your feet leave the ground when the wind blows, type that too. Again, no one likes surprises. Be honest about your 'LIKES' and 'DISLIKES' choices too. If you click on the 'CANDLES' choice for 'LIKES' and the only wax that can be found in your house is in your ears, YOU'RE LYING!
3) DON'T SPILL THE BEANS! It is not necessary to write every single nuance about yourself. Leave something for the imagination. Be a little mysterious. Not, 'UNI BOMBER' mysterious, but leave some things out for later conversations, or for revelations during that ride to 'meet the parents'. Save some of yourself so you'll be interesting. If not, you'll have nothing to say to each other during that all important 'first date'. Can you say, "Awkward silence?"
4) FOOLS RUSH IN! Anybody know the difference between love and infatuation? Good!, so you all know that a small profile picture and some words on paper don't always measure up when face to face. Let's say that you've found someone interesting on your dating site and they are interested in you too. You've spent a week and a half exchanging emails, chatting on the phone, flirting a little and a fondness has developed between you. Finally, the night of the big date comes. You meet, but after five minutes you both realize there is NO chemistry between you and sadly you both go home feeling lonely and depressed. Happens all the time. One way to keep this from happening is to limit email and phone conversations between you and your new 'possible' but meet each other at a neutral, busy place like a coffee shop or a bookstore. Set up the meeting after only a few days so as to not have too many expectations unmet. In essence, keep your heart guarded until you've met and let nature take it's natural course.
5) IT'S A NUMBERS GAME! The odds that you'll meet Mr./Ms. right on the first date are like me getting a guest shot on 'OPRAH'(but there's always hope!) Take it from me, you are going to go on a lot of dates before you hit the jackpot. And this is good. It will keep you from 'settling' on the first person with a pulse. And whatever you do, NEVER ACCEPT A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL ON THE FIRST DATE! Unless of course, the other person has a Lear jet, chateau in the Swiss alps and a Ferrari!
Happy hunting. Ray.

Too much information

Privacy n., pl. -cies 1 a being private; seclusion 2 secrecy 3 one’s private life.
There was a time when the only information offered up by an individual to an unconcerned world was their inherent religious beliefs. Jews wore yarmulkes, Mennonite women wore baskets on their heads, Amish men wore straw hats, east Indians had dots on their foreheads and so on and so forth. These simple attributes provided information about a person without uttering a single word. A simple gold band or a diamond worn on the fourth finger of the left hand also provided enough information as to whether a person was single or attached. Skin color, eye color, hair color, and eye shape also provide information about an individual.
Long ago, there were certain situations called, “secrets.” If you had one, the object was to not release the information hidden inside the secret. The secret could have been about any number of things: a secret love, a secret pregnancy, a secret crime, secret plans, secret hideaways, secret preferences for a mate. People used to tell each other secrets and swear them to secrecy. The whole concept seems lost in that respect. Occasionally a secret would “get out” meaning someone didn’t hold up their end of the bargain.
Where am I leading with all this? Too much information. It’s the latest catch phrase of the decade. Privacy is dead and buried. And for enough money, you can purchase the contents of a lot of secrets. How did all this happen? I blame “Divorce Court.” If you grew up watching black and white television, then you can remember divorce court. It was in essence the beginning of “Reality T.V.” We would watch in awe as husbands and wives aired their dirty laundry for the world to see, while a judge listened intently before rendering a final decision. It was the ultimate, “fly on the wall” experience. The mildest form of voyeurism. But that wasn’t enough. No, we had to have more. The television show, “The Dating Game” provided America with yet more unsolicited information regarding certain “average Jane” females likes and dislikes towards eligible bachelors. And they in turn volunteered even more juicy, personal and private information. Day after day, week after week, year after year. The same genius behind the dating game also gave us, “The Newlywed Game.” It was inevitable. Push the envelope of privacy just a little bit further. I have to admit, I laughed like a mental patient at some of the answers given. The obvious object of the show was to entertain, but in the process, doors that were meant to be closed were unceremoniously opened. Discretion would be weighed and flaunted. Secrets were no longer guarded with vigor. The “People’s Court” saw to that. Judge Wapner became a household name and a viable celebrity.
Soon, even more signs of unwanted information began to appear. “Mood Rings” came along to alert us all to whether someone was suicidal, homicidal or horny. Pregnant women rode the bandwagon with their BABY tee-shirts, letting the south pointing arrow do the explaining. At least that bit of info. answered the unasked question: too much pizza and beer? Soccer moms hung their “baby on board” signs from their mini-vans and station wagons. More unsolicited information. Did I really need to know that? Was that meant to squash any premeditated notion of myself gleefully ramming my car into the back of theirs? I think not. Oh, and lets not forget bumper stickers. Aren’t we all better off knowing that so-and-so’s child is an honor roll student at such-and-such school? For some, cars are just rolling billboards enabling them to provide us with too much information.
Tattoos are certainly a colorful way to share someone’s information. Names, dates, locations, religious persuasion and even gender bias can all be gleaned from inked skin. I think of it as someone just screaming for attention. Kind of like people who write columns on wacky subjects. Hmmmnn…… anyway, cell phone users fall into the category of individuals providing us with too much of their information. First off, it’s a phone. It’s not two tin cans tied together by string. You don’t have to yell into it for the person on the other end to hear you. Unless of course the other person is deaf. I am tired of inadvertently eavesdropping on other people’s conversations. You are not that important. Your life is not that intriguing. I don’t care what you have to say. And the high tech geeks with “Star Trek” phones pierced through their upper earlobes sound like schizophrenics walking down the street talking to themselves. We used to run away from people like that!
That wonderful invention “The internet” is now providing millions with the opportunity to tell all the world about themselves. “Youtube,” “Myspace,” “Facebook,” are just a few examples of where one can go to gain further unwanted information. We can hear about this one’s rehab stint or that one’s relationship break-up or everyone’s divorce plans even before the parties involved know about it. There are no more secrets. Lives are open books for anyone to read. Papparazzi are every where and are taking pictures of everything. Camera’s in cell phones. Wire taps on land lines. Reality shows permeate the airwaves. Where will it all end? The other day while sitting outside my favorite coffee house, a young woman walked by wearing a tee-shirt that read: nobody knows I’m a lesbian. I thought, “gee, nobody knows that I’m heterosexual, but thanks for sharing!”