Ryan Gosling = Awesome Dad

Ryan Gosling is going to be the best Dad ever.  And the Daily News has the proof.

Click here to see what it means to be the Best Dad Ever!!!

What's that?  You are wondering why a bunch of pictures of Ryan with other people's kids in movie photo ops, with his dog, hugging a lady friend and having a coloring book about him (my personal favorite) are proof of forthcoming awesome-Dad-ness?  Yes, me too.  Once again we are confronted with evidence that the bar for being a great Dad is set pretty low (a favorite topic of mine which you can also see in Father of the Year).  Take a good picture, take your dog with you everywhere, be enough in touch with your emotional side that you can - gasp - hug someone (who happens to be a hot co-star) and you're set. We all know that kids and dogs are exactly the same and movie publicity stills are as real as it gets.  Oh, and have someone make a coloring book about you.  We really can't forget that one, which exhibits mad Dad skills.

Meanwhile, in serendipitous fashion, this little nugget appeared on the very same day in my Facebook feed.

They forgot tinker, tailor, soldier, spy.  Oh wait, those are boy jobs

First of all, I have to say that it seems a little lazy that the first item on the list is actually Mother.  If you look up the definition of goddess, the first word is not goddess.  Or if you look up, say, dumbbell. You know what I mean. Okay, I feel better with that off my chest.

Onto more substantial things.  Now I'm sure Mr. Hedges thought he was being utterly complimentary towards women with kids by outlining for us how many things we do and ending with a flourishing finish - comparing us to a Superhero (no disrespect to Wonder Woman - she rocks) and an overall statement as to our awesomeness.  Quite frankly I hate lists like this that seek to glorify Mothers by dropping a load of tasks that read more like a job description for indentured servitude, with a couple of emotive phrases thrown in (best friend?  worst enemy?) to make sure it doesn't actually get confused with indentured servitude.

Of course, there are most definitely nuggets of truth in there in terms of the ongoing tedious tasks of being a parent.  Do you see what I did there?  I used the gender-neutral word "parent."   Because I hate to break the news to Mr. Hedges and the world but you can also do and be those things if you have a Y chromosome.  If you are one of two adults in a household with kids, then you better be able to do a hell of a lot more than take a pretty picture and carry a dog.

This could have been an inspirational "What is A Dad" picture but they don't seem to exist
How ever do they manage to feel good about themselves without it?

Oh well.  The good news is that Mr. Gosling is from the land of celebrity where believe it or not, there is actually some equality in views of parenting.  After all, this is apparently a Mother multi-tasking...

So I guess you can get away with just being able to take a pretty picture after all.

People are Lazy

People are really lazy. I see it every day, from the line of 200 people waiting to take the escalator in Penn Station when the double wide set of stairs is practically empty right next to it, to people waiting for a parking space when there are hundreds of them available like 40 feet away.  But as the saying goes, until you walk in another person’s shoes, you never know what their experience is so perhaps every one of those people has a reason for not wanting to engage in the strenuous activity of walking, be it up the stairs or across the asphalt.  

But there is one place where the laziest of the laziest continue to under-exert themselves with no excuses whatsoever – and that is in the time-honored tradition of the replacement (or not, if you will) of an empty roll of toilet paper.  A task so easy to accomplish and yet, for some reason, so frequently left for the next person.  And in such a variety of ways.  Let’s take a look at the bounty of options (with a special shout out to a friend, who knows who she is, who supplied some of these pictures knowing what a peeve it is of mine).  I guess I could say they are in order of level of laziness.

Here we have your basic level of lazy.  Let me point out that this is in my home (my home!) and there is just as much of a chance that it is one of the mini-mes as it is big guy (that's not to say I don't think gender plays a role in this).  I can also tell you that there are definitely extra rolls of toilet paper in that cabinet, on the left side conveniently accessible right behind the toilet paper holder.  No, I'm not the only person in the house that knows where it is stored - as evidenced by...

This pretty picture where someone clearly needed some more, and clearly knew where to find it, yet still could not manage to complete the complicated process known as changing the toilet paper roll.

Lest you think I am reserving my snark for my family, let's travel over to my workplace for Exhibit 3 - where we can see an example of needed more, couldn't be bothered to finish the job and, judging by the small size of the roll, followed by a bunch of people who thought "well, if no one else did it, I'm certainly not going to."  Because that kind of thinking always solves the world's problems.

Oh look - it's the "I left some for the next person so I don't have to change it" roll.  This is the same person who leaves half of a cookie or a bite of pie and thinks it qualifies as leaving you some of the dessert.  Maybe if you were from Whoville it might.

Toilet paper you are not alone!  All sorts of paper products on rolls seem to instill in people a complete and total inability to do something that is not remotely difficult.  If the aliens are watching us, this behavior is definitely on their "hmmm, interesting" list

Back to my home for the "it can't get any easier than this
and yet you still can't manage to do it" award.  

And then of course, in this as in all things, we have the one that stands above all the rest. Join me for a moment in contemplating what exactly happened here:

Maybe those aliens showed up to take a specimen to find out why an advanced society has so many people who can't replace a roll of paper.  I hope they share the results.

The Walking Texters

So there I am on the stairs heading down into Penn Station to catch my train, and the woman in front of me is going really, really slow.   The staircase is just a little too narrow for me to pass her comfortably (which really irks me because there is *no one* in front of her).   I tell myself not everyone likes to walk at warp speed, and even load on a little compassion and think she may even have some health issue because she is hunched over a bit ("well then take the frickin' escalator"- quiet snarky self, we are in compassionate mode).  So I put on the brakes and pile on the patience and step by slow step follow her down without further judgment.  Until we get to the bottom of the stairs and I can finally wind around her and see that she is on her phone, staring intently down at it hence the hunch and, more annoyingly, the slowness.  On the stairs, heading into Penn Station, at rush hour no less.

The Walking Texters.  They are everywhere and like the zombies in The Walking Dead (of which I am a huge fan) they are incredibly slow and just veer everywhere regardless of what may be around them.  Actually every now and then the zombies walk a little faster and straighter if there is a meal in their sights.

There you are walking along the sidewalk and some tool in front of you is crawling along at a snail's pace swerving all over the place like they just downed a few shots with a marijuana chaser (not that I would know what that's like). If it's not too crowded you can try to pass them, but you never know if they might turn right in front of you at the last second.  Of course (of course!) I understand that texting while driving is infinitely more dangerous than texting while walking - but the concept is the same.  You can't focus on both at once and if you choose the texting sooner or later you're going to hit something.  And it is usually someone else.

Walking Texter Trail

Drunk Snail Trail

Also just like the zombies, it is even worse when it is a crowded tight space, like a staircase or a construction walkway.  There is simply no getting around the walking texters in these places and you have to deal with them.  Unlike the zombies, I cannot just stick a knife in their head and be done with it so once again I'm at their mercy and their speed.  I'm also getting a little dizzy just looking at them.  And my neck hurts in sympathy pain.

The elevator – save me from texters on elevators.  If I’m getting on to go up, here’s hoping they don’t step on ahead of me – they’ll push their floor (barely rolling their eyes up to make the selection) and plant themselves firmly in front of the panel – because, you know, no one else on the elevator needs to select a floor.  We’re just along for a joy ride.  Getting off the elevator?  If they’re waiting on the floor they’ll barrel on in at the sound of the door opening with barely a glance to see if anyone is coming out. 

And, please know, I'm not entirely selfish.  My concerns extend to the walking texters themselves because they are one distracted moment away from being a headline.  In addition to carelessly, aimlessly impeding my movements, they’re constantly wandering into traffic – real, not pedestrian.  One of these days a driver is going to decide they’ve hit the brakes one too many times for these bozos who can’t be bothered to pay attention when there are cars around (I’ve mentioned this one before in my general disdain of bad walking behaviors http://mysnarkyself.blogspot.com/2014/01/walking-can-be-hazardous-to-your-health.html).   I have not yet decided how I will feel if a texting driver hits a texting walker - although I will say I am all for road sections just for them.  Both of them - the drivers and the walkers.  Let them take their chances with each other. 

The Walking Texters - slowly swerving on a sidewalk near you.  

Not a Professional Athlete? Don’t Run on Their Field

So I happened upon an article about this guy (whoops, sorry, a “Dad” - this is very important to the story) who ran at the front of the Boston Marathon with the elites.  Haven’t heard about it?  Here you go…

http://www.runnersworld.com/boston-marathon/who-was-the-dad-leading-the-boston-marathon-at-mile-one

This article and pretty much every comment I have read in response to it seems to be celebrating his moxie and his achievement.  Wow, that’s amazing – look how fast he ran to overtake them (because he started behind them – we’ll get back to that).  Aw, how cute, he did it for his kids so they could see him on TV. Oh, isn’t that sweet – he wanted to thank his family and coaches back in Texas by letting them see him on TV (are you noticing a pattern yet?).  Pretty universal praise, including the disclaimers that he was a fit dude who had to qualify to run in that first wave so he is definitely not a slacker who didn’t deserve to be there.  Allow me to offer a slightly different perspective.

I don’t think he deserved to be there and I think he's a bit of a jackass to thrust himself into the spotlight (and he planned to do it right from the moment he signed up). Elite runners are professional athletes; with rare exceptions this is their livelihood and the front of the race is their playing field, just like a baseball diamond to a ball player (or a stage to a singer if sports isn't your thing).  As professional athletes, they don’t just train physically, they train mentally and they prepare (just like every other professional athlete) by knowing the strengths and weaknesses of their competitors’ games.  They can do this because they know everyone who will be playing against them in advance – again just like other professional athletes. Then this tool throws himself into the mix and runs the risk of messing with their plan and just their overall race day juju.  You say moxie, I say selfish.

I understand they are being trailed by thousands of people who earned the right to be there.  But those people are purposely placed behind them.  With different colored bibs.  That don’t have their name on them.   Lots of little details that say they’re a little different from that small group at the front.  Suddenly running into their pack – their field- to me is no different from some fan that runs onto the field at a baseball game.  After that happens, no one says “yeah but that’s Joe – he hits .500 in our weekend league.  He’s real good so it's okay.”  Really one could make the case for this being no different than anyone running onto a stage that isn’t theirs to be on; in what circumstance, no matter how funny they are, does a heckler deserve a moment at a comedy show?

We all know there is a certain personality
type that crashes someone else’s stage

Sure, I understand he said it was for his kids – so they could see him on television.  And this is where everyone’s hearts melted, and I suspect they threw common sense to the wind and convinced themselves this was an okay thing to do because it was just such a nice story. 

Did you hear about the Dad that risked everything (well, technically not everything, not really anything of his actually, just someone else's chance at winning a marathon) so his kids could see him on TV?  Sigh....  

Again, I’ve got to offer an alternate view (and yes I have a heart, but it tends to beat in tandem with my brain). Is this where we collectively want to be in terms of modelling an achievement for our kids?    Getting on television by inserting yourself onto a stage that a group of people spent months (hell, basically their whole life) training and preparing for? Demanding a spotlight by doing something for five minutes that they will be doing for over two hours because they are - wait for it - better at it than you are?

Perhaps one of the greatest things you can show your kids is the respect of leaving the stage or the field to those who earned the right to perform on it.

Golf ≠ Sexy

So, we're doing a little channel surfing the other night and come upon some guy providing an onscreen golf lesson.  Despite my usual way with words, I had to take a picture to capture the awfulness of what was on the screen.

Now this is just a test run for the lighting, right guys?
You're not actually filming me in these clothes?

Now, I could focus on the colors that don't match, the white shoes, the wavy design that doesn't hide his belly at all (hello?  vertical stripes are slimming!).  Instead, I have chosen to use this picture (which is similar to many other examples of male golfer's clothing I have seen) to provide some explanations for some phenomena in golf and other sports.  It feels more productive than simply making fun of that atrocity of an outfit.

The golf skirt- because women, unlike men, need to
let their legs breathe in order to swing

For starters, I have cracked the mystery of the age old policy of so many golf courses not allowing women. Forget everything you thought about it being some old school, sexist good old boys club.  Clearly, they did not want to be seen by members of the opposite sex in the clothes they were wearing. It would immediately cut their chances of getting laid by like 80%. This way, they can change out of their plaid costume back into their manly suit, meet their lady for a drink somewhere else and ramble on about the important manly business networking they accomplished in the midst of their birdies and bogeys while walking across the lawn (yes, that's right, I have no respect for golf as a sport). 

This is the same guy. That sound you just heard was an egg hitting the brakes hard and backing right back up to the ovary it came from.  "Whoops - false alarm!  I'll wait for the next one, thanks"

This may also explain why other sports require uniforms.  Now, I'm not really into research for this blog (I prefer to wing it) but I did a quick google that tells me that golf was invented sometime in the middle ages while other sports, like American football, came later.  Golf provided rules on attire but no actual uniforms. Every sport that followed realized that was a huge mistake and, like the tuxedo in a wedding, most men needed to be given a specific outfit to wear with little to no wiggle room.  Plus uniforms could make them look cooler.

The homoerotic implications will be easier to hide in these outfits, Bob.

Now, I bet right about now you're thinking to yourself "Oh yeah?  What about all those people watching golf on TV?  They're seeing the outfits."  Well, I also researched this issue for this article (I am on fire with facts for this one) and found the following golden nugget "Television viewership for golf tournaments has remained the same over the past 10 years: white (87 percent), older (63 percent aged 55-plus), and affluent (27 percent household income over 100K.).  About two-thirds were male."  Why yes I can provide the source - Old, rich white guys watch golf (not the actual title).

So, golf people, a suggestion.  Let the ladies on the courses and let them dress the guys they bring with them.  It will spark a sea change in your demographics and your sport may actually survive past the Baby Boomers.

Kids! Listen Up if You Want Me to Listen Up!

So I often get lots of little articles that cross my facebook feed and some of them even catch my attention, like this little blurb “How We Hurt our Kids.”  It was an odd title and I didn’t *think* it was a suggested listing of ways to inflict mental and physical pain but I checked it out just in case someone needed to be reported to someone else.  Thankfully, that was not the case and instead I found a Dr. Phil-like nugget of parent/kid relationship wisdom - you know, something that boils a complex situation into a couple of judgmental sound bytes that have nothing to do with the real world and real people.  A couple of paragraphs on successfully communicating with your kids (i.e. doesn't psychologically damage them for life) written by “Rachel” (no last name necessary) seems legitimate and most definitely qualified.

I knew I was in trouble when she had a problem with pacifying my kids with a quick quip.  God knows I love a quick quip and if she had any good reasons why I should give them up (doubtful but possible), this was going to be hard.  Then she really put herself out there as someone whom I want to listen to with her line that she loosely paraphrased information from someone else to “make it more directly applicable to Moms with kids.”  Well, Rachel, this begs a couple of questions from me (and you might consider this an active destructive response but we’re not in a relationship so I don’t think it matters).  First of all, what other kinds of Moms are there?  And secondly, what about Dads (or if you prefer, Dads with kids)?  Are they perfect, responding in the most positively positive manner in every single communication situation?  Or are their errant ways not irreversibly damaging to their children and only the female of the species can do that?

Nevertheless, I’m still hanging in there hoping to take something away from your piece.  I’m all for improving relationships and if you ask me, it’s a partnership in which both parties need to work at making it work.  So I’ve decided to supplement your suggestions with a few of my own – but these are for the kids.  After all, if we (sorry Dads in my list you’re included too) have to work at it, so do they.

·        Don’t choose the exact moment that I sit down to eat my freshly toasted English Muffin (with the butter melting so nicely on top of the crisp hot outside) to tell me to come watch you do something. Walk away and come back in 10 minutes and   I’ll be happy to oblige you with the most positive response ever. Likewise if I've just settled into my comfy corner of the couch with a book for the first time all weekend. 

·        Please limit the number of times you need me to stop what I am doing and come see you to six times an hour (and it would be best if you could group them together into one efficient viewing).  The running of the household depends upon my accomplishing a few things which becomes impossible if I have to stop, drop and view constantly on demand.  And, no I’m not going to do them after you go to bed in order to maximize my time with you.  I’m tired then too.

·        Apparently I should meet you on your level and talk eye to eye with you for maximum benefits. So I’m going to need to ask that whenever we talk at home, it be at the kitchen counter.  If we're out you'll need to find a ladder or a step stool or something.   It’s really not good for my back or knees to constantly be squatting or bending over and quite frankly I'm not sure why I need to be the one to come down to your level anyways. You can step up. 

·        If you have accomplished a new skill (say, the monkey bars at the playground) I will spot you the first five times you repeat doing it for awesomely encouraging compliments. After that I'm going to need a new trick or an increase in speed or something (anything) else. Surely you understand - I'm pretty sure you stopped watching me flip an omelet after the first time when you decided yeah, she can do it.

Sure Rachel, I want to be my kids' cheerleader when the world is against them.  But I also don't want them to think the world is against them when it doesn't stop to applaud everything they do. Every single time they do it. 

Oh and I refuse to remove the word but from my vocabulary. It cracks my kids up every time I use it.

LIRR Excels at Sucking!

Bravo Long Island Rail Road!  Every time I think you've sucked as much as you can, you sink to a new level of sucking.

I knew I was in for a treat last night when I turned the corner to the escalators down into the main LIRR waiting area and was greeted with the view of a veritable herd of people packed shoulder to shoulder, stretching all the way out to the main corridor.  This was really going to be special.

It's blurry but you get the picture.  If you wait to focus when you are
photographing random people without their permission you take too long and start to look creepy.

Even at 5:25 in the heart of rush hour it takes real talent to accumulate that many people in one place when your business is to be moving them out of that place.  But sometimes that talent is combined with an extra special dose of "don't know what the hell we are doing, really" as evidenced by this notification on the overhead screen...

It really helps when the problem
is clearly stated

A "possible" track condition in one of the tunnels.  At this point based on the train departure board, a train hadn't left the station for awhile - there were about 8 outbound stacked up with no track listed (a bad, bad omen).  How is this still termed a "possible" condition at this point?  Meanwhile they were still trying to sell "it's not so bad" to the herd as the friendly track announcer kept coming over the PA system to tell us that due to this "possible" track condition we should expect "some cancellations and delays."  Some, eh?  At this point I had been in the station about 15 minutes and all they had announced were cancellations.  You are upping your sucking factor with every minute LIRR.  I decided it was time to move to one of the farther corridors to find some room to breathe. 

This was so much better.  For about 3 minutes...and then that open area filled up too. 

Now lest you think the LIRR was not doing anything, I'm happy to say that in fulfillment of the only "some" cancellations promise, three trains actually left the station. Two took people to destinations on Long Island (not my destination,but I was happy for them) and one went to the West Side Yard. That's right, thousands upon thousands of people packed into the station and the LIRR sends an empty train to the yard. That earns bonus sucking points. 

Lest you think that *I* wasn't doing anything but seething at the stupidity of the LIRR, I'm happy to report I was multi-tasking and did some people watching whilst seething. I feel it's very important to observe my fellow humans in the midst of stressful conditions such as these to discern personality types so I know what to expect in the event of a zombie apocalypse or, even more worrisome, a sudden evacuation of Penn Station when it is chock full of angry people (seriously what would have happened if there were a fire- no one could even move!). Here's a sampling of a few of my fellow commuters in the midst of the chaos:

Must Phone Home Man:  Many years ago the actor Russell Crowe was involved in a hotel altercation after which he tried to explain to the world that he was upset because he had to call his wife to let her know he was in his hotel room and could not make that phone call and alleviate her concerns that he might be out boinking someone else injured somewhere. This guy apparently had the same problem because he just kept shouting into the phone "Honey I'm still at Penn station! No trains!  Can you hear me?!  I'm here at Penn station!  Hello?!  Hello?!  No trains leaving but I'm here.! I'm here at Penn Station!  That's why I can't get home!  No trains are leaving! Can you hear me?!"  I wanted to walk over and say "dude send a text" but I was worried she would hear me and think he was with someone else.   

Angry Man:  This guy shouts out randomly at no one in particular.  "Are you kidding me?  Not one train leaving?"  "How much longer is this going to be like this?" "You!  Do you work for the railroad (said to guy bringing over more pretzels for the Annie's express cart)? Come on get more trains going!"  "Another Ronkonkoma train?  Where the hell is Babylon?"  (To be honest I was thinking this as well). At this he decided to move somewhere else, perhaps to see if the pretzel guy could commandeer a train with him, and started shoving his way through the crowd. "Come on people move! Make a path!  This is NY, show some aggression!"  Thanks angry man. We're going to let you carry all of the aggression for us. You're doing just great. 

Chatty Lady- she maneuvers her way adeptly through the crowd settling in front of a different train status monitor each time (as though there's a magical one with good news out there somewhere). Once there she peppers the person next to her with questions on what's happening (as if they have an in with station management and can solve the whole mystery for her),  That's not so bad - but then she starts telling you what her day was like, how she feels and exactly why she has more of a need than anyone else to just get home.  Yes, I was one of chatty lady's victims.  Too much information partnered with entitlement is never a good mix for me.  

The rest of us?  I have to say we are eerily quiet.  With every cancellation announcement there's mostly a shaking of heads and some mild muttering, We've collectively given up.  LIRR you suck and there's nothing we can do about it.