Fido Play-Doh

I've come to a point in my life where I believe I'm on the cusp of middle age. Inevitably, I start to reflect on time spent growing up. Friends and I sometimes get together and talk about how things were when we were kids and we always come to the conclusion that kids today are really missing out on some things. I'm not naive enough to think that my generation is the only one that does this. I think its just a part of growing up.

A whole new generation is hearing about Michael Jordan now that he's constantly contrasted with Lebron James. High school seniors were three years old when Jordan won his last NBA championship so for them, he only exists on highlight reels while we got to actually witness the greatest basketball player to ever play the game. Also, kids today don't have Saturday morning cartoons to watch like we did. I remember waking up at 6am on a Saturday morning to watch shows like the Gummy Bears, Slimer and the Real Ghostbusters, and the Smurfs. As I matured, I preferred the deeper messages offered by the sages of Saved By The Bell and California Dreams. Who can forget Jessie Spano's addiction to speed and her inspiring rendition of the Pointer Sister's "I'm So Excited"? Crack is whack Jessie. It leads to Showgirls.

Not only was my generation exposed to these half-hour gems of episodic bliss, but we also got to reap the joys of the action figure tie-ins. Oh the hours we would spend memorizing the combination of twists and turns it would take to transform a mack truck into Optimus Prime. Do you remember the imagination it took to pretend your parents weren't just cheap and that GO-BOTS really were as good as Transformers? GI-JOE, Thundercats, Voltron, M.A.S.K, Jem and the Holograms all had an impact on me one way or another. Kids today just don't have the same opportunities to watch cool tv shows and play with cool toys.

Oh sure, now that Transformers is a movie franchise, HASBRO released a new line of toys but these are low quality, plastic junk. The Transformers we played with were solid metal. It seems like the main shows that little kids watch today are of the Spongebob and Dora the Explorer variety. Are the toys from these shows robots that turn into something useful like a tape deck or realistic gun? I bet not but Dora sure has a nifty backpack. That screams fun.

My wife is floating the Edisto River tomorrow and she needed an innertube. So we did what every other red blooded American does when such a need arises and headed straight to Wal Mart. While she was checking out the pool section, I was hanging out with the toys. This was around 9pm so I needn't worry about looking creepy since most kids should be in bed. I flipped through stacks and stacks of new Transformer and GI JOE figures. While I think they're junk, I can still find the time to appreciate them. Heck, I still head straight for the toy isle every time I visit Walgreens. Sad but true.

While searching for the ultimate inner tube, Kristen found something I had to behold. She dragged me two isles away and to feast my eyes upon this. Yes, it is a game called Doggie Doo and the object is to feed the dog and watch him go doo doo. I almost cried. If ever there was a game in line with my sense of humor and maturity level, this was it. Doggie Doo is a complete rip off of the Play-Doh Fun Factory Set but if you're going to rip off a classic, this is the way to do it. Scatalogical canines are fun no matter what the context. Because of this find, I've had to rethink my entire view of kids today. I no longer feel sorry for them, I envy them. I got to play with the HE-MAN slime pit and kids today get to play with turds. Sure, they don't have Zach Morris or AC Slater. They don't understand that "knowing is half the battle" or the gravitas of the "power of grayskull". But just like any kid in the history of time, they understand feces.

And that is good.

Not Again

Kristen and I decided to go out for some dinner recently because we were both too tired to cook. As we walked toward the front door of a local chain steakhouse, I noticed a couple leaving and they looked aggravated. I chocked it up to bad service. I waited tables for three years and yes, even I had an off night from time to time. Sometimes, customers leave unsatisfied. Once we made it through the front door though, I knew it wasn't bad service that sent that couple packing. Oh gosh no. I'd recognize that shrill shrieking and wild wailing anywhere. We'd done it again. We'd picked a new restaurant and randomly shown up on Kids Night.

Kids Night is the glimmer in the eye of an obvious sadist. This sick person decided it would be a good idea to let kids eat free while simultaneously running amok and ruining dining experiences of the childless. Moms and dads develop some sort of force field that prevents any sort of common sense and disciplinary action when it comes to their kids. Parents don't need to force them to behave. What's the fun in that? They came to relax and and talk to their friends who also brought their little heathens along. Don't worry about your little runts as they double fist steak knives and threaten other patrons of the restaurant with their beady little toddler eyes. I know your game you little monster. You want to make sure my wife and I, in no way shape or form, enjoy our dinner. Mission accomplished. I appreciate the dinosaur you drew on my napkin with your complimentary crayon while your oblivious mother talks about her facial at the country club earlier that morning. I don't feel like I'm overreacting.

We are at the age that many of our friends are having kids and some of them get very irritated if we complain about maniacal misbehaving miscreants in restaurants or stores or elsewhere. Many have become quite self righteous. We're constantly told that we'd understand and not be upset if it were our kids, that we just don't "get it." Um, I'm telling you right now that if my kid ever jumps up on the table and takes a tinkle, not only will I be upset, I'll have the common decency to be mortified and would most likely never show my face at the establishment again. Of course I'd talk to the manager and let him know that my child obviously gets this specific behavior from his mother. I'd also probably give the little guy a mental fist bump for having the stones to pull off such a stunt in a public place

According to MY mother, I only ever had one outburst at a restaurant, and it was the cutest thing ever. During the dinner rush at a local restaurant, my mom was ignoring me as she talked with a friend who'd joined us. For reasons unknown, I stood up on the booth, took a hard look around the place, developed a sly grin on my face, and tooted. All conversation in the diner ceased and everyone looked towards me amazed while my mom stared at me horrified. Horrified because the toot would not stop, and it was what my friends and I like to refer to as a helicopter poot or a machine gun poot. You probably get the idea.

I'm not averse to kids. My wife and I have talked about the possibility of having our own in the near future. However, going to these Kids Night sure do serve as an indirect contraceptive. If the survival of the human race depended on us after we just got back from a Kids Night, well, better to burn out than fade away, you know what I mean?

HANDS HANDS HANDS

Since high school, I've told people that one of my ambitions is to write a humor column in the vain of Dave Barry. I feel like we have somewhat similar writing styles albeit, mine is likely a bit more crass. For years, he wrote a column for the Miami Herald that was syndicated nationally. For that, I am indeed a bit jealous. However, because of his ties to the city of Miami, Mr. Barry has something else that I might never have the opportunity to behold. The chance to run into one of the Police Women of Broward County.

Because I'm married (to a woman that believes cultural diversity is important), my television spends a lot of time tuned to TLC. I'm well versed in families of multiples, little people, cupcakes, hoarders, people who eat toilet paper as a hobby (I'm not joking), overweight redneck ladies who live vicariously through their daughters by forcing them into beauty pageants, the Duggars, and girl police officers. Police Women of Broward County follows four female officers as they travel in and around Miami, Florida fighting crime. Two of these women in particular stand out.

First is Andrea. She MIGHT be five feet tall but I doubt it. She takes down drug dealers and she's very angry when she does it. Watching her jump out of her blacked out SUV with her gun drawn yelling "HANDS, HANDS, HANDS" freaks me out and reminds me of how my sister use to treat me. In fact, I think my sister and Andrea are a lot alike. This police lady won't hesitate to rough up a perp just like my sister wouldn't hesitate to smack me around. Unfortunately I'm not kidding. I tried to play responsible older brother one time when my parents were out of town and she got a speeding ticket. I told her how she shouldn't speed. I don't know why that was so unexpected but she certainly didn't appreciate it. Basically, she landed a round house punch to my jaw and I fell down. I'm not proud of that but if I laid a hand on her in retaliation, my dad would kick me out of the house and disown me. Double standards are dumb. I think my sister and the short police lady would get along.

The other officer that stands out is Julie. She works in sex crimes. She's an older woman with what can only be described as Texas hair straight from a bottle. The hair is big, blond, and comes with plenty of attitude and bad language. The things that come out of her mouth when she's propositioning potential "Johns" really frighten me and are completely foreign to me, and I went to college. Watching how nonchalantly she walks up to men and casually asks them to do scary things to her is really kind of disturbing yet I can't stop watching.

Police Women on TLC follows ladies around several other counties in the country but none of them have quite the dynamic, or vulgarity, of those crazy Miami ladies. So Dave Barry, when you read this, make sure you tell Andrea and Julie that I said hey. Maybe one day we can all meet for a drink. I'll keep my hands where Andrea can see them but I'd prefer it if Julie doesn't really talk to me.