On Vacations and Hotels

My first vacation of the year has come and gone and all I can say is, where the hell did that week go? This, I believe, is a very common sentiment, shared by just about everyone who has ever taken a vacation. You spend weeks looking forward to the day when you are going to leave, then it comes, and in a blink you're back home. My family's journey brought us to the wonderful state of Rhode Island. I would specify Providence, but do I really need to? I don't think Rhode Island is large enough to have more than one city. Just kidding. I am not going to sit here and make fun of the state because it is small--though I did notice, when I saw the sign that said "Now Leaving Rhode Island" the d of "Island" was actually on the "Welcome to Massachusetts" sign. Okay, no more RI jokes.

We hopped into the car Monday afternoon and travelled 3-4 hours down to Coventry, RI, to stay at the wonderful Hampton Inn. The appeal of this particular hotel was a pool, proximity to the places we wanted to go, the price and a free warm breakfast.

I love hotels (probably because I travel so rarely). Even though every hotel room I have ever been in has been about the same, I am always excited to slide that pass key and walk in for the first time. The hotel room we had on our vacation held no surprises. There was the giant bed (neatly made), the desk with the lamp and internet/phone cables and the dresser with the large TV on it. The bed had a nice little lap desk thingy that had the Showtime program guide and the traditional welcome to the Hampton Inn paper.

As I did my usual exploration, just in case there was a secret Jacuzzi or something equally awesome hidden in the room (hey, you never know), I explored the closet and the bathroom. The closet, the door of which was a large mirror, had an iron and ironing board in it, in case I needed to iron one of the four pairs of shorts I packed. There was nothing else of interest--no Jacuzzi, no passage to Narnia (drats!). The bathroom was all shiny, with fresh white towels, the little soap, shampoo and conditioner on a little tray, and the toilet paper folded over to form a V. I did notice that the little card that was with the soap said to call down to the front desk for any number of toiletries that you may have forgotten. (I should have left everything at home so I could of gotten the most out of the hotel.)

We were only staying for two nights, so there was no real reason to make use of the dressers in the room, so we left them untouched. We left our clothes in the suitcase and found a place to set them that was out of the way and easy to get to. The room actually had a refrigerator and a microwave, which was nice. We could have saved a fortune on eating out by packing a family-sized box of Hot Pockets. Though the microwave wasn't necessary, the refrigerator did end up being of use: not only was I able to chill our beverages in it, I was also able store the leftovers from our various eating trips there (I am cheap and hate to waste food).

The bed was enormous, and after being in the car for so long, I just wanted to dive in and sleep. Well, maybe not sleep right away -- there was that large TV calling to me, with its many channels. We only have about 23 channels at home, so having been presented with the next tier up in the cable world (including multiple Showtime Channels), I could not wait to give the controller a spin. Unfortunately, I had two small problems, the first being my two year old daughter. Because we were in a new place full of new things to check out, she was wide awake, despite the late hour. That meant only kid-appropriate programming was going to be on until she went to sleep. (Not that I was planning on ordering a bunch of porn or anything, but there is always a mindless action movie or something on.) The second issue was that, because we haven't had good cable in a while, I forgot how crappy cable television was. There are some excellent TV shows on cable, I am very aware of this, and usually have to wait for them to show up on Netflix. Being at the hotel for only two days, and with all of the activities we had in store, it was unlikely that they were going to have a marathon of a good show on while we were in the room to see it. Then again, if all of last season's Walking Dead was on, I probably wouldn't have left the hotel room.

I did feel the urge to take a shower after we had all gotten settled in, which had nothing to do with being in a car for several hours. I think it has something to do with the need to use all of the free stuff that the hotel had to offer. Not only did I have to use the soap, shampoo and conditioner (and I never use conditioner at home), but I also had to use every towel that was available. I used the wash cloth, the hand towel and the big towel. (By the way, the big towels aren't really that big. I don't know why anyone would even think to steal them, but then again, I wasn't exactly in the Waldorf Astoria.) Once used, I just piled them up in the middle of the floor, something I would never do at home. In fact, at home I would have reused the same towel for two or three showers.

It is a nice feeling to know someone else would be cleaning the room and doing all the laundry after we left. Just for the record, neither my wife nor I were jerks about it. I wasn't throwing garbage around and saying, "oh well, the help will get that." We kept the room tidy, and piled all the towels up neatly for easy access. I even folded the toilet paper to make an arrow again.

Once I was out of the shower and we got the young lady to sleep it was time for my wife and I to spend some quality alone time. And by quality alone time, I meant me trying to convince my wife that we should have sex. There is something about hotel rooms that just makes me want to have wild crazy hotel room sex, whether my wife is with me, or I'm alone (this would explain why people order porn in hotel rooms). I think alot of people share this view/feeling--unfortunately, my wife wasn't one of them. Maybe it was because she had done all the driving that day and was tired, or maybe she couldn't get past the fact that Gabby was only about three feet away. Maybe the whole sex-in-a-hotel thing is a guy thing? Whatever the reason, we ended up just going to bed. It wasn't even a great night of sleep; the matress was much firmer than the one we have at home and neither of us could sleep just right. (Maybe if there had been some exhausting/satisfying sex involved....)

The next morning it was time to enjoy our free breakfast. I am by no means a great traveller, but I have stayed in enough hotels to know that the breakfast wasn't going to be prepared by Wolfgang Puck in the hotel's four star restaurant. It actually ended up being not horrible, but then again, anyone who knows me would agree that I would eat rocks if they were prepared propely. The breakfast buffet included cheese omelets and sausage, which weren't too bad. There was also all your usual continental breakfast fare: toast/bagels, muffins, a cereal bar (three types of cereal only), a crock full of oatmeal, fresh (or not so fresh) fruit, etc. They even had the traditional make-your-own waffle maker, which has always made me wonder, why make-it-yourself waffles? I have seen them in a number of hotels and have been left wondering each time. Do people love waffles so much they refuse to eat prepared ones? How does Eggo make any money if this is true?

The next day was spent visiting the Roger Williams Zoo, followed by a quick trip to the grave of HP Lovecraft, and then back to the hotel. We were planning on meeting up with a friend of my wife's from Seattle who had moved to Providence, but, through a series of failing technologies and miscommunications, we were unable to meet up. This left a hole in our itinerary so we decided to go crazy and fill it with eating dinner at a typical Rhode Islandy eatery, and ended up at the Crackle Barrel (well, we tried). The restaurant was right across the street, and I think that was the main reason we went there. The meal was not great, but we had a good time.

Because we weren't meeting up with Christy's friends, I thought that night would be a great opportunity to hit the pool. I have stayed at several hotels with pools and always bring my swim trunks--unfortunately, I have never actually gone in. I love to swim, yet I never seem to make the time to use a hotel's pool. This time, I was bound and determined to use the pool.... and I didn't. I am still trying to figure out why I never got down to the pool. We got back from dinner that night and just hung out. It took a while once again to get the little one to sleep, and after that, we ended up sleeping.... no sex again. Rats!

That was it for our stay in the hotel. The next morning I showered again, of course: I had to use up the shampoo and conditioner. Breakfast was the same, just a different style of egg (scrambled) and meat choice (smoked suasage). We packed, loaded the car and headed for our next destination. We did not steal anything from the room, except a couple of pens (which wasn't really "stealing", but I had to take something from the room, and since the TV wouldn't fit in one of our bags...)

Our next stop was Cape Cod, to visit my wife's co-worker/friend and her husband (and their charming 3 year old daughter). Thankfully we were able to meet up with them, especially since we were supposed to be staying in their guest room that night. It was a nice room and a beautiful home. We enjoyed a delicious home-cooked dinner and spent most of the night chatting and had a great time. As great as it was, it was no hotel. And by that I mean, at someone's home you are required to be respectful of the home and the the things in it. You are under pressure to be on your best behavior. At a hotel, the only thing that prevents you from acting like a cocaine-fueled rock star (or Charlie Sheen -- wait, that's redundant) is the fact that they have your credit card info and will charge you for the damages. That and having a two year old go a log way to keeping you from going too crazy.

On the First Year

Well, I have been writing the blog for officially one year. May 16th, 2012 was the day I posted my first entry. It wasn't much of an entry, just a brief explanation of what the blog was going to be about, but still the beginning. What a strange journey it has been, for those that have been following it. There have been a number of embarrassing stories, from the time I pooped the bed, to the fact that I actually listened to the 50 Shades of Grey books at work. I have talked about the challenges of Diabetes (okay, maybe it has just been me whining about the food and drink I can no longer enjoy), my neighbor and his cereal exchange program, my children, and even tapped into some deep feelings to talk about friends/loved ones lost, and other personal stuff. What can I say, it's all about me!

Mostly, I have tried to focus on random non-sensical stuff that strikes me as funny. Whether it is about automated bathroom fixtures, lawn sales or the Olympics there is little rhyme or reason to my subject matter. I try not to get too political, but every now and then, I feel compelled to say something. Which is often a mistake, but what can I say, the level of political nonsense seems to be at an all-time high. But then again, when isn't it? Believe me when I say I have a lot more to share, and I always seem to run into stuff that makes me laugh (sometimes I'm the only one laughing), so don't think I am running out of stuff to write about!

What I really wanted to do with this post is to thank all of you who have shared or commented on my ramblings over the last year. It has been appreciated, and I am going to try to get back to a regular posting schedule. I started this as a way to try my hand at writing, seeing as how I never really wrote anything before. I never took an English class past high school because I was never really interested in it. I always wanted to be an artist and took drawing in college, but that has fallen by the wayside, and now, I really don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Writing is fun and therapeutic (you are all saving me a fortune in therapy), and is something that has my interest right now. Maybe I can figure out how to make something of this--I doubt it, but you never know!

Since I am insecure, I find myself constantly checking the stats on my blog (and now my Facebook page). I thought I'd take some time to share some of the numbers I have pulled. Compared to a real, professional blogger, my numbers are quite pathetic. Professionals probably get as many hits in a day/hour as I have gotten in months, but, because I am new to this, I am happy with any numbers I get. So without further ado, here are they are. (These are the numbers at the time of my writing. They may have shot up a whole point or two by the time anyone reads this.)

The post I have gotten the most hits to date is the one about wedgies and the Olympics. I have 322 views and every time I click on the post, the number seems to increase by one (just kidding, I stole that from The Office). The worst post so far was my first post (technically the second--the first, as I mentioned earlier, was the intro to the blog): apparently no one cared about my revelation that the short urinal at work was for midgets, not children (that is speculation on my part, but I still believe it wholeheartedly). It only has received 18 hits, but also has no tags and was before I got onto Google Plus, so maybe I should revisit it...

To go back to the more successful posts, my piece about stand-up comedy and unintended plagiarism was at 206 hits, making it the second most-viewed post. My review of the 50 Shades of Grey series, and the challenges of listening to it in the workplace, came in (no pun intended) at number three with 150 hits. The fourth and fifth highest are neck and neck, with 110 views logged of the story about when the crotch of my pants ripped out at a temp job, and 108 views for the one about the annoying energy-supplier-sales people who had been bombarding my house last year (and I see them again, walking the streets).

Most of my posts seem to settle in at around 50 views or so, with some spiking up over 70. A few have struggled and not been able to get much over 30 views, including such classics as the first Diabetes post, the story about pooping the bed, and the one I wrote about the Sesame Street Sex Scandal. I have no idea why some seem to take off, and others just do nothing. I don't think it is because of subject matter, though the "political" posts are among the lower viewages. Maybe it is the subject matter, maybe it is my awesome writing (that, I doubt) but what ever it is, I will keep writing about whatever, and maybe a pattern will reveal itself.

I have 35 posts to date, and I hope to match this number for the next year. A post a week seems a bit daunting, but we will see. Thanks again for reading, please continue, and feel free to leave comments on the page. I promise I will respond when I get a chance. Also, spread the word! Tell your neighbors (even the creepy ones who bring you half-eaten boxes of serial) and your friends about the blog. Don't forget to like the Facebook page as well. I only have 41 likes for the page and would like to get more (https://www.facebook.com/NonWisdomFromTheFirstStall  ). I have been trying to make pseudo-memes (the random non-wisdoms that have been appearing on my pages feed) through the FB page and it seems to be going well so far. Anyway, I am rambling and I want to get this out. Thanks again and I will be getting another post out soon! I also added a list of the top ten of my posts on the site... enjoy!

On Terror, Terrorism and Why I Stopped Wearing Underpants

I wanted to write something about what happened at this year's Boston Marathon. Since I usually avoid writing about current events or anything too serious, I figured I would balance the seriousness of the subject matter with an explanation of why I gave up wearing underwear all those years ago.

I was not watching the Boston Marathon, as I am 100% opposed to running, so I did not see things happen live. (I have said it before, and I'll say it again: I only run if someone is chasing me, and I am happy with that.) My wife had come downstairs (she works upstairs in our home) and told me that something had happened at the Marathon and it might have been a terrorist attack. Bombs went off near the finish line and two people had been killed.

I waited a bit before I switched the TV over to see what was happening. Gabby and I were in the middle of a Barney view-fest and God knows, I would hate to interrupt the 138th viewing of Barney's Animal Alphabet Matching Game. Besides, did I really want Gabby (who is 2) to see all the stuff that was sure to be unfolding on the television? Sadly, I have to confess, Gabby was more of an excuse than anything else. It was really me who didn't want to see what was happening. There were two reasons I didn't want to watch: first was the strong feelings that were already starting to hit me because of this potentially being an act of terrorism, and the second reason was that I knew I would just get mad at the network TV coverage.

When I eventually switched over to see what had happened, it brought me right back to September 11th, 2001. I can remember very clearly (as I am sure most people who experienced it can) the day that the Twin Towers came down. I was not working that day, for whatever reason, and came out of the bedroom and turned the TV on. I wasn't quite sure what I was seeing. On the screen were the Twin Towers, smoke pouring out of one. Then suddenly the cameras started tracking a plane and it flew right into the second tower. Once I realized what was happening, I felt this tremendous surge of emotion.

I don't know if I cried or not, but the pain in my chest... well, pain is not the right word. I don't even know if I even know what the right words are. The closest that I can come to describing it is to take how I feel when I get really angry/frustrated (which usually results in tears) and add the sorrow I felt when I got the news that my father had passed away (which definitely left me crying) and smush the two feelings together. As I watched the coverage of the towers throughout the day, these feelings would ebb and flow inside me. When I saw what was done in Boston, those feelings came right back to the surface.

Maybe it is because I am the farthest thing from being an extremist in any way, but I cannot fathom what could bring a person to the point where they could murder innocent people to express their ideology, or disenfranchisement with something. I can't understand it and I never will. I know that the USA is not the wonderful, benevolent and innocent country that so many people who live here seem to think it is. Over the years our country has done plenty of questionable, if not down right "evil" things, both overtly and covertly. We, however, are not the only country guilty of  this. There are few countries out there that have a spotless history, and many are guilty of a lot worse things than we have ever dreamed of (I'm looking at you Josef and Adolph.) To think that it is justifiable to perform acts of terror is inexcusable.

And speaking of inexcusable, we need to do something, as a people, about the media in this country. It is getting out of control. I am just about to the point where I want the government to control the media. I pine to have the freedom of speech taken away from this country, because some people just won't shut the F__k up! 24 hour news channels are ruining this country. Maybe that is a bit extreme, but seriously, has any good come from this phenomenon? Every tragedy that befalls our country is blasted with non-stop coverage: interviews with neighbors, cousins, digging up any little bit of info, trying to beat out the other channels. The networks want to evoke emotional reactions in their viewers and pull out everything they can to manipulate them. I'm not even going to get into the fact that news channels seem to be more and more biased these days and appear to take advantage of events like this to promote what ever political viewpoint that they are championing. I think they all need to go away.

The best thing I saw, that seemed to sum up everything I am feeling toward the media, is a little cartoon with a guy sitting in a chair watching the news. The news reporter says "What can we do to lessen the grip of fear from terrorism?" and the guy turns off the TV. Brilliant.

If network TV isn't bad enough, then let's talk about social media... I'm talking about you, Facebook. Boy, my feelings on what showed up on there during this whole Boston Marathon business run the entire range from pride to utter disgust. Memes are often funny, but sometimes loathsome. I saw outpourings of support and kindness, I saw people taking advantage of the situation by posting erroneous or outright false images and I saw the usual political battles being waged again and again, shamefully using this tragedy to make their points.

Yes, they were Muslims, despite the fact that many thought that they were domestic terrorists. What is the big deal? I thought they were domestic terrorists as well, and I didn't watch any of the coverage, so was not influenced by any media source. I've seen several memes pointing out that they were both Muslims. Does this make it worse? I saw one that said they received welfare and financial aid. Again, does it matter? These people people were willing to plant bombs and kill innocent people -- is this the time to point out that we have a system that is easy to take advantage of? I am getting to the point where I am about to take some computer programming classes so that I can learn to write a program that will filter out and delete any meme that is not funny... or has Grumpy cat on it... I'm getting tired of Grumpy Cat.

In conclusion, my heart goes out to all those who were affected by this horrible attack. I, like most of us, were glad to see that they got the two responsible. I don't even care that the one was killed. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it. I am glad they caught one alive, though. I think it will help answer questions that may have been left if he wasn't (like, if there were more people involved). With the capture of the assailants, let us hope we can put this tragic event behind us, and allow those who were affected directly to recover.

Now that I have had my say, as promised, here is a brief (pardon the pun) explanation of why I don't wear underwear anymore: I am not sure if I have mentioned it before (this would be a great opportunity to read through all my blog posts and check) but at some point late in my high school career I decided that underwear was not for me. How I came to this decision, I cannot remember. I always have said jokingly that I thought this would help my chances of having crazy porn sex (since the "actors" in the adult film industry never seemed to wear underwear). I did not really believe this, as many years of "going commando" did not seem to help me have any sex, forget crazy porn sex.

I do remember ending up with several pairs of jockey shorts one year and wearing them quite happily, until we had gym class. The underwear actually hung down past the bottom of my shorts. I was so self conscious that I found my self constantly adjusting them as we were engaged in whatever the sport du jour was. Unfortunately it did not escape the eyes of the gym teacher who liked to "pick" on kids (not to an excessive level) and he started teasing me about my wardrobe malfunction. I refused to wear my jockey shorts again after that.

I also remember preferring to let the old twig and berries bounce free instead of wearing a jock strap when I played sports. I found jock straps uncomfortable and knew there would be no thong wearing in my future. Not that the jock strap went up my crack or anything, but I didn't like the feel of the straps on my butt.

The exact reason for my non-underwear decision will probably always be a mystery. But then again, I don't understand why I do a lot of the things that I do. What I do know, is that "going commando" has saved me hundreds of dollars over the years, from buying new pairs, to all of the laundry related expenses I have incurred. Despite a few occasions where I was wearing short shorts (not male Daisy Dukes, or LT. Jim Dangle from Reno 911 short shorts, just regular short shorts) and I had an escapee, free balling has served me well. Though I must confess, I do have a few pairs of underwear in my drawer, primarily for doctor visits. I feel uncomfortable when the doctor says to strip down to my underwear and they come in and I am fully nude.

I don't think that I will ever go back to wearing underwear. When I do, it feels weird and uncomfortable. It gets so hot and sweaty down there -- how do you people stand it? And if anyone feels like performing an act of terrorism, just pull my shorts down in a public place. That image will terrorize people for years to come.