Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about the moves.

THE PROMPT: "Transportation. What is your preferred mode of getting around and what are your thoughts about the nature of mobility today and tomorrow?" (opinion piece)

What's up everybody? Ahhh, it's a nice, sunny day out. Not quite warm enough yet for my liking, but it'll do. It's the perfect day for the ever-popular "opinion" portion of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" . Are you ready? Let's have at it.

My preferred mode of getting around? Depends on where I live. When I was at 542, it was my legs. Everything I could possibly need was within a 15-20 minute traipse around the village in any direction. This was especially beneficial when I had last lost my job and had to decide whether to stay in my apartment and walk everywhere or live out of my car. Even though it cost more per month to live in the apartment, the choice was still obvious...the car had to go. Although it was a bit of a bitch to get to the grocery store during the Buffalo winter, it was still better than having to stop for gas. Too bad they didn't make snow tires for Doc Martens .

But now that I'm living somewhere else, things are still close but not worth walking to. We're currently sharing one vehicle that is more than serviceable, but we'll be in the market to upgrade later this year, I believe. I myself would prefer some type of truck or SUV, and while I'll have some input, I won't be making the final say on this decision.

Anyone who's been reading this regularly since I've been a blog challenge participant may have an understanding of my feelings regarding transportation today. It's all in this entry from a few months back... "This one's about what we should've had years ago." . In summary, WHERE THE HELL ARE OUR FLYING CARS?? Weren't we lead to believe that by now this was supposed to be our reality? Shouldn't someone's head in Detroit or NASA be rolling for this? Why the hell aren't I zipping through the atmosphere in a mini-UFO lookin' thing that packs up into a suitcase when I've reached my destination. I know some of you out there want to get technical..."Well, you see, sir, the laws of mass and physics dictate that, well, ..." Bullshit! Save your laws and your mass and your hoity-toity science geek-speak. We were lied to! We were misled! This is an outrage of epic proportions. This isn't "Honey, there's no such thing as Santa Claus", or "I would've gotten you a puppy but you didn't eat your veggies" or "That's ok dear, it happens to every guy". No. This is messing with people's futures, dammit, and I want some answers! Maw-fuggin' Jetsons...biggest, and I mean BIGGEST disappointment in a childhood full of them.

And you expect me to talk about the future of mobility? When thirty years ago if you'd asked me I'd have told you "flying cars"? Star Trek, you're no effin' better! Screw jet-packs that you wear on your back and fly around with...I want that beam thing. You'll have to excuse me for not being a Trekkie (or congratulate me, one of the two), but everyone's familiar with the phrase "Beam me up, Scotty" and some weird-lookin' dudes get into some giant glowing lasery tube, and in a second they're somewhere completely different. Where the hell is my beam-me-up pad (or is it a pod?)? Again, misled.

You want my opinion? You really want my opinion? Be careful what you wish for... people in the 60's and 70's took too many freakin' drugs and thought they could write tv shows for impressionable young minds. These hippies and radicals promoted so many wrong descriptions of the future that these said impressionable young minds could dream about, and hope and know that someday, these dreams would come to fruition. But you know what? I've not heard of any (American, Japanese, Chinese, Russian, or European) automaker make a peep about flying cars (and I wouldn't even know the logistics that would go into "beaming somebody up", but I'm pretty sure it's the one thing Apple and Microsoft will be working on together in some way with travel agents to revolutionize the world and send stock profits to astronomical levels). This tells me it's not happening...a-n-y-t-i-m-e s-o-o-n. And that, fine readers of this life-changing nook of wonder Al Gore invented, known as "Da Interwebs", makes me sad.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Time for one of the most creative videos to come out of the early 90's to relax myself from another rant. This group was recently inducted to the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame this week, and it features one of the coolest lines about transportation ever committed to song: "I'm tired of driving; it's due time that I walk about."

VITAL STATS ("FROM RETAIL HELL" EDITION):

Last month I noted in this space our "Active Shooter" training that took place at work. It is with great displeasure that I must inform you of another "Active Shooter" situation that occurred today.

We sell our own private-label brand of soda (most of our private-label stuff now goes by the name of Nice!) in 4-packs of 12 ounce cans, held together by that plastic set of rings that you have to cut when you're done so fish don't die trying to swim through them when they wind up in the ocean. As I was retrieving a 4-pack of cola for a customer, one of the cans disengaged from its plastic holder, hit the ground, busted, and started spraying everywhere. In my panicked attempt to halt this by grabbing the rogue can, I was facialed by cola spray and a second can wound up falling to the floor, breaking and spraying as well. Try this in your driveway sometime...drop an aluminum can with a carbonated beverage in it. It sprays something fierce, and it's not a "boom and it's over" kinda situation. It's ugly. It's misty. It's sticky. And it almost doesn't stop.

An actual conversation with an actual customer on the sales floor:

Customer (to her cell phone): "Hold on, hold on, I'm in the store. Let me ask the guy."

Me: "Can I help you?"

Customer, with her phone still wedged in her ear: "Yeah, I'm lookin' for this cream. Amb...Ambu...Amba-somethin'. It's for your face."

Me: "Well, you're not gonna find it in the shampoo aisle."

Luckily the person working in that department was there to bail me out.

On a lighter note, allow me to introduce you to Mrs. Hoffman (who prefers we call her Barbara). She a sweet, vibrant old lady who comes in all the time. During the holidays she brings us cookies, or she'll bake bread and give us some. We like customers like her.

It's come to our attention that she drives a bright yellow Volkswagon Beetle. Now, perhaps it's just a coincidence, but there's local jeweler/pawn shop called Airport Plaze Jewelers not too far from our store. The owner has these obnoxious commercials about his gold-buying/selling business, where he states something about not paying "an arm and a leg", and then dancing around with a fake arm, a fake leg, and people in chicken costumes. During the day, when you drive past his little kiosk, he has the human chickens out front, encouraging people to come in. Conspicuously parked is...yup, a yellow Volkswagon Beetle. The local conspiracy theorists in-shop have something new to chew on...what if Mrs. Hoffman's involved? That would just bring a whole new level of weird to the customer/employee relationship we have with her.

And that's it for tonight, y'all. Gonna catch up on the happenings at WDC before I see what other trouble I can get into tonight. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!