"Fun Size" Candy Bars

Halloween is just around the corner and they are starting to appear.   This is an old post, but I just had to drag it back out as this season approaches.  Well, here goes...I hope you enjoy.

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I recently had a "fun size" snickers bar.  You know what I'm talking about - its a candy bar that's not quite ripe.  Its a small version of the real thing.

I'm a bit intrigued by the title given these mini bars.

I don't yet understand why they would be called "fun size".  In reality, they are not even "adequate size" candy bars.  You almost always need 2 or 3 even to be adequate.  Why "fun"?

The candy maker certainly wouldn't want to call them "small size" because then the fear would be that we'd think the bars were too expensive given their "small size".  I suppose the candy maker couldn't just ignore the size altogether and not give them a name...that would just be weird.  "Why are these bars so small?", we'd ask.  The name at least gives us an indication that something purposeful is being done.  But what?

Which brings us back to . . . "Fun size".  Why "fun"?  What about a tiny, 3/16 of a candy bar is fun?  

Is it because I can fit it into my pocket and enjoy it on the go?  No.  I'm too forgetful.  What isn't "fun" are the mounting bills from my Dry Cleaner.  Chocolate can be stubborn.

Is it fun because it contains less calories than a regular size candy bar?  No.  Nothing about reduced calories is "fun".  "Fun" doesn't count calories.  Maybe they could be called "Less Fun Size".  I think that would paint a picture.

What would be fun would be a gigantic 3lb candy bar.  That's fun.

Or how about a free candy bar . . . of any size?  That's fun too.

Maybe we could just call them Halloween Candy Bars.  You know, its the size of bar that you don't mind handing out to strangers at your front door once a year.  Its not like your giving away actual candy bars.  It's "fun".

Perhaps we could call them Easter Candy Bars.  The size of bar you don't mind losing in a field.  Its the size of bar that could actually be lost in a field.  Maybe they are easier for the Easter Bunny to carry??

You see my dilemma.

In the end . . . I still can't see why it is so "fun', but . . . I'm making a research commitment today.  I'm gonna keep eating them and with every bite, I'll seek to understand just what makes them so "fun".

What?  

Can't I disagree with the verbiage and still recognize its tasty goodness?  Did you expect me to stand on some sort of moral high ground over a little name dispute and NOT eat the candy?  Come On!  

Small or Large . . . "Fun" or Tiny . . . its still a candy bar.  No matter what you call it.

I'll just call it good.

JJ

Leftovers

Tonight was similar to most any other night at our house.  I had dinner with my wife and daughter and afterwards, my wife and I were cleaning up in the kitchen.  I had already enjoyed a great dinner and was thankful for our meal together.

My daughter hadn’t quite eaten all of her food so I took it upon myself to “help her” clean her plate.  It would be a shame to let all of that food go to waste.  So, I didn’t let it go to waste...I ate it.  

Now I was full, but happy to do my part to help the family.  And then it happened...

As my wife was trying to put the chili into a storage container she realized that it wouldn’t fit.  She turned and looked at me as if to say, “Our family needs you!”  She didn’t actually say this, but I got the message - loud and clear!  It’s go time!

Danger was lurking about in our kitchen in the form of a small storage container and a large pot of chili.  “Not on my watch, small storage container.  You’ve met your match!”

So, I sprang into action...for the family.  I proceeded to eat about another bowl and a half of chili.  Was I hungry?  No.  Had I planned to eat until I was near blackout stage?  No.  But, did my family need me?  Yes, yes they did.  I don’t consider myself a hero, though that word has been thrown around at times.  I just do what needs to be done.  I guess you could say that I just love my family.  Of that I am guilty and I’m also a little nauseous at this point.  

I basically just ate about 6 meals in the span of 20 minutes, but I did it for love.  Unfortunately, I’ve realized that I do this quite often.  There is the last bit of pancakes for breakfast that can’t be tossed.  The last of the banana at snack time.  It’s the remains of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and it’s the “seconds” that weren’t even touched.  My daughter needs me.  I’m not sure what the fear is regarding throwing a bit of food away - or why we can’t just get larger storage containers?  Nevertheless, there is a job that needs to be done.

I don’t normally count calories, but I’ve done some quick calculations and it seems that I’m way over what medical personnel would recommend.  I should be getting about 2,200 calories each day and on my own plate, I’m doin’ alright (about 1,800 calories).  When I count how much food I put away for the family, it comes to about 7,300 calories per day.  That's not good...at all.  If I were a hero, I'd have to worry about my Lycra suit still fitting.


If I keep this pace up, I’ll have my own show on TLC by the Spring.

Here’s to cleaning your own plate...and being a hero!

JJ

Charlie Chuckle

Here was the scene.  It was your typical public laundromat.  Dirty floor.  Rows of Washers and rows of dryers.  Several people milling about.  Folding.  Washing.  Lounging.  

We picked our machines and put our roll of quarters in each one to begin.  I think it was something like twelve dollars for a wash.  I’m remembering how easy it was to do laundry at home...when our washer actually worked.  Mindy thought it would be fun for Maggie to experience the laundromat.  So this is why we all 3 went.  I don’t know that whole families generally go to the laundry together, but we sure did.  The family who launders together stays together.

There were 4 arcade games, but only 2 were operational.  Both were “unnamed” games that have never been heard of.  My daughter immediately spotted these, so we played.  She had fun, but I wanted my money back.  The television was on.  It was the “Ellen Show”.  She was talking about having had some near death experience.  I was thinking that we might have a death experience of our own today.  It might have been the worst television ever viewed in public.  If it were a device intended to reflect every light hanging from the ceiling so as to mask what was actually on the screen...it would have been the best such device in history.  As a television however, not so much.

A lady was behind the counter to offer a “Wash and Fold” option.  She looked like she had been washed and folded herself.  I’m not sure what that even means, but we pass on that option.

There was a guy who was busy with his own laundry while we were there.  Normal enough except for one thing.  Every few minutes, he would let out a chuckle.  I’ll call him Charlie Chuckle.  The first time I heard it, I rationalized it as a cough.  The second time I heard it, I knew it was a laugh.  I looked for ear buds thinking that maybe he was listening to some type of podcast.  No ear buds.  I hadn’t heard him talking, but the next chuckle had me looking for a blue tooth.  Nope.  It was becoming clear that Charlie Chuckle wasn’t actually interacting with anyone “on the outside.”  Whoever he was conversing with was inside his head.  So that was cool.  At least he was laughing at himself and not upsetting himself.  That could’ve been odd.

Back to our laundry.  Our games were finished and the television was unwatchable and finally it was time to get our laundry out of the wash.  Washer 1, no problem.  Washer 2...major problem.  As we began to pull the clothes out, we noticed it.  It was unbelievable.  By “it”, I mean Cat hair!!  Oh my goodness, you wouldn’t believe it!  There seemed to be more cat hair than clothes.  If there is a cat equivalent to Cruela De ville...she uses this laundry mat.  I’m allergic to cats, but this is really beside the point.  This is pretty disgusting.  If PETA had come in at this point, we would have had some major explaining to do.  It was a cat crime scene and we’d just become part of the cover-up.

Obviously, we have to rewash our clothes...in a different washer.  I wipe down our old washer to get rid of our prints.  I’d hate to see some kind of Cat CSI team come in and get busted for a crime I didn’t commit.  I make a quick run to the bank to take out a personal loan.  Thankfully I’m approved and come back with twelve more dollars for the additional load.  

More time is wasted.  More TV.  More chuckles.

Finally, our wash was complete and we loaded up and left.  That’s when it hit me.  Of course!  Why had I not put this together sooner?

What’s the moral of this story?  

Sometimes, when a guy laughs every couple of minutes, it’s because he knows who used your washing machine before you did.   

Well played Charlie Chuckle, well played.

Hope you have a day that makes you laugh.

JJ

The Dirty Plate

My parents visited this week from Texas and told me about a restaurant that they spotted while driving to Iowa.  They saw a restaurant in Missouri that’s called “Toot Toot Family Dining”.  I’m sure that this is a fine establishment, but on the surface, it’s name is not one that would necessarily inspire confidence.  

Names are important, especially when it comes to restaurants.  This got me thinking about what would make a good name and more importantly, what would not be a good name at all.

Since my parents were visiting, they agreed to help me populate the following list.  We hope you enjoy.

Below are a Baker’s Dozen of our Worst Fictitious Restaurant Names:

13.  Billy’s Burgers and Botulism Cafe’

12.  Won Ton Taco and Fishery

11.  Lactose Larry’s Dairy Bar

10.  Regret Sushi Bar

  9.  The Dirty Plate

  8.  Defibrillating Deli

  7.  Heimlich’s

  6.  The Spoon and Bucket...All You Can Eat

  5.  Salmonella Sallie’s

  4.  E. Coli Eddie’s

  3.  Fire in the Hole Burritos

  2.  Sour Stomaches

And the Number One Worst Fictitious Restaurant Names Is . . . 

Teresa’s Gristle Surprise

Have a great day and . . . enjoy lunch somewhere special.

JJ

"You Look Really Bad"

I was at work today and a lady asked me, "Are you sick?"  I wasn't sick, so I told her, "No".  She gave me a look like I was trying to get away with something and then asked again, "Are you sure you aren't sick?  Ok, now I feel like I'm lying to the lady and this forces me to think more intently about her question.

"Was I sick?" I asked myself.  I answered myself, "No...not that I know of".  So I told the lady the same thing.  

You'd think that this little conversation would be over at this point.  Question asked and answered...but it was not over.  The lady responded with a very skeptical, "Really?  You look really bad."

Ok, people.  Did this lady jut tell me that I look bad?   I didn't ask for this today.  I actually started the day feeling well.  I had gotten up early.  I went for a run.  I showered and got dressed.  I felt great.  For some reason, I was even a little better dressed this day than my usual blue jeans and t-shirt.  What was going on?  Why did this lady not believe me?  What could I possibly look like right now?  Did I really look that bad?

So I respond with a stunned, "Oh, ok.  I look bad?"  

She said, "Yeah, it's your eyes...they look..."  

She didn't finish her sentence, but sort of trailed off at the end.  In my head, I screamed, "They look like...WHAT!!??"  "What do my eyes look like!!??"  I'm getting freaked out here just a little bit.  What was going on?  At this point I kind of wonder if I'm not sick after all.  Maybe my throat could be a little scratchy.  Does my stomach feel ok?  But...my eyes?  My eyes felt fine.  At first, I felt a little annoyed.  How could someone just up and say that I looked bad?  Now though...I'm a little concerned about my well being.

Finally, after some time, she continued, "Your eyes, they look kind of...weird...in the corner...and...kind of in the middle too."  

Oh, no!  In the corner AND in the middle?  It's spreading!  

I knew that I should've been taking that multi-vitamin!  Perhaps that chicken last night was a bad call.  I’m still young.  How am I going to break this to my family?  How will I break it to my doctor?  He’s going to be so disapointed in me. WAIT...wait a minute.  Am I actually sick?  I wish I had a mirror.

"I guess I could be tired", I said with hesitation.

She said very reluctantly, "Maybe..."  Again, she looks at me like I'm hiding something.

Seriously!  What is the deal here?  What could I be hiding?  If I am hiding something...I'm doing an awesome job, because I haven't even told myself yet!

How long have I been hiding this from me?  I never thought that I'd do this to me...someone else could do this perhaps, but not me...not me.

I search for other answers..."I guess maybe it's my contacts.  Yes!  It's got to be my contacts!  That's why my eyes are red!"  Oh, no, wait...I'm confused.  "Are my eyes red, did you say that they are red?"

"Yes, they are red, but . . . are you sure you're feeling ok?"

Hey Friends...I hope you all are feeling ok today.  I'm feeling pretty good.  Remember, Billy Crystal told us as Fernando, "It is better to look good than to feel good...and I look maahvelous!"

Hope you enjoyed reading.  Have a great day!

JJ

Encore Presentation: Did My Phone Ring?

**This is a blast from the past...If you've got a few minutes, let me know which post has been your favorite.  I'd love to hear from you.**

We’ve all been in a crowded restaurant and thought that we heard our cell phone ring . . . only to check and discover that it, in fact, was not ringing. 

Nothing to be ashamed of.  Its loud.  Lots of extra noise.  Easy mistake to make.  No worries.

What’s causing me concern, however, is that several times of late I have experienced a more disturbing . . . how should I say it . . . “phenomenon”.

I carry my phone in my back pocket.  I’m not a belt clip guy.  I try to avoid carrying excess tools and utensils on my belt.  In fact, I don’t carry anything on my belt.  If I ever become a Super Hero, I’ll certainly wear “stuff” on my belt.  But, in the absence of this occupational change, I’ll keep my belt free for its intended purpose.

Back to my recent experiences.

So, several times of late I have “felt” my phone vibrate to signal an incoming call or text.  However, upon retrieving my phone I come to find out that in fact, my phone did not ring  .  .  . or vibrate.

Ok.  No one called or texted . . . I can live with that.  What is disturbing to me is that I “felt” something.  Why would I “feel” something?  What would I “feel”?  This doesn’t make sense and kind of creeps me out a bit.  

Nothing should be going on back there.  I’m not sure if this is some type of medical condition or what it could be.  

If it is a medical condition, how would I ever confirm such a diagnosis?  I wouldn’t.  I’m not walking into a clinic and telling a doctor that I’m experiencing “vibrations.”  No, that’s not happening.

What if its a technical issue?  What if my phone is actually vibrating, but does so at random times with no discernable purpose?  Am I going into my Sprint store and explaining my “sensations” to the 15 year old techie?  No, that’s not happening either.

Look, I don’t know what’s going on.  I’m genuinely concerned though.  Nothing on my body should be moving without prior knowledge from yours truly.  I’m actually afraid to answer my phone now.  Is it really ringing this time or am I well on my way to staring in an episode of “Mystery Diagnosis”?

What I’m trying to say is . . . if you want to get in touch with me - send me an email or hit me up on twitter - @jamisonjon, but don't call.

Furthermore, I . . . um, um, I . . .

Sorry, I gotta go . . . my phone’s ringing . . . I think . . . 

JJ

ATM After Dark

I just received a new debit card in the mail.  It was attached to a piece of paper that gave me some instructions on how to activate my card.  Pretty normal stuff.  The backside of the paper, however, opened my eyes to a world that I, until now, have largely ignored.  I hope that I don’t overstate my level of training after having read this document, but I am now basically qualified to be some sort of spy or special agent.

The heading on the back page of this document states:

Stay in control of your security  

This was followed by several subcategories teaching me how to remain safe and in control.

Selecting your Personal Identification Number (PIN)

-When selecting your PIN, do not use any number that appears in your wallet.   Really?  I can’t use any number that appears in my wallet.  Taking a quick look, I discover that the following numbers are inside my wallet: 0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 & 9... This presents a problem for me in selecting a PIN.  I decide I’ll have to come back to this problem later.  Maybe I’ll ask my wife for help.

-Memorize your PIN - Never share it with anyone or write the number down.  It’s at this point that I begin to realize that I have stumbled upon something serious.  Here I thought that I was just renewing my debit card, but this is much more serious.  I’m wondering if this “not telling anyone” includes my wife.  I trust her.  I’ve been married to her for more than 15 years.  We are kind of a team, but . . . in light of this Wells Fargo document . . . I’m not sure she can be trusted.  It clearly stated that I should not share it with “anyone.”  I’m sure they know that I’m married.  They know my Social Security number and everything.  The pressure is on for me now, I can’t even write this number down.  I contemplate writing it down just once and then burning the paper, but I don’t.  It seems too risky.

-Change your PIN every six months.  What?!  Do I work at the Pentagon now?  I force myself to take a break from this debit card renewal...the pressure is mounting and I’m not sure I can do this.  I don’t change the oil in my car every six months . . . how in the world am I going to remember to change this PIN number every six months?  I have already decided not to write this number down, but I wonder if I could get one of those things implanted in my hip like Matt Damon did in The Bourne Identity?  I’m kind of thinking that Jason Bourne has read this same document.  I’m ready.  The break did me good.  Bring it on!

Managing your account

-Shop with merchants that you know and trust.  Well, that does it . . . I’ll never walk in a mall again in my life.  There is no one in there that I know and trust.  This one doesn’t really bother me . . . after all, something’s gotta get cut.  I also think through my time in Target and Wal-Mart stores . . . I question if I really know and trust the people behind the counter.  In light of my new skepticism of my wife of 15 years, then I guess I don’t trust these “store people” either.  I make a note to myself to try and come up with a merchant that I do trust.

Using an ATM

-Be aware of your surroundings and exercise caution when withdrawing funds.  Of course, common sense.  This is totally understandable.  

-Consider having someone accompany you when using an ATM after dark.  Ok, guys.  How serious is this thing getting?  Exercise caution AND have someone go with me?  Does it matter who goes with me?  Could my daughter go?  Should it be someone in law enforcement or someone who knows a form of martial arts?  I’m confused . . . and I’m frightened.

-Watch for suspicious persons or activity around the ATM.  Ok, check.  My eyes will be peeled.  If you observe suspicious persons or circumstances, do not use the ATM at that time.  Ok.  If someone weird is there (other than me and my bodyguard) I won’t use the ATM.  If you are in the middle of a transaction, cancel the transaction, take your card, leave the area and come back at another time or use an ATM at another location.  Oh, man - I didn’t think about something happening in the middle of a transaction.  This is getting scary.  It seems like a lot to remember to cancel, take my card AND leave the area.  Quick question...what’s my bodyguard doing during this time?  Why did I hire him?  Why did I buy him that gun?

-Ensure no one sees you enter your PIN.   What about my bodyguard?  I guess if my wife is out . . . Rocco is out too.  (Rocco is my bodyguard).  

-Refrain from displaying cash and put it away as soon as your transaction is completed.  Wait to count your cash until you’re in the safety of a locked enclosure, such as a car or home.  Great!  Now I guess I can’t do my little “I got some cash” dance that I’ve been doing!  It’s a really fun dance, and I’m pretty good at it.  Sometimes, I like to make the money into a fan and just sit back, eat grapes and fan myself with my cash right there in the front of the ATM.  Other times I yell, “Booyah!” when I grab my cash and point to it over and over saying, “What?  Who’s got some green?  I do, I do!”  Those days are gone, I guess.  

I can’t even count it until I get into an enclosed structure?  This one is hits me hard!  I really enjoy sitting on the ground with my legs crossed while sorting everything out in stacks of 10.  I count it all 2 or 3 times before leaving the ATM.  I’m not saying I’ll keep doing it, I’m just saying this one will be difficult.

-When using a drive-up ATM, keep your engine running.  Aside from the driver’s window, keep all of your doors and windows locked.  This is ridiculous.  Keep the engine running?  I’m beginning to look like a get away car.

That’s when I realized that what I had actually been mailed was instructions on how to rob a bank . . . see if it doesn’t hold true.

1.  Get a plan and share it with no one.  Don’t write it down...don’t leave a paper trail

2.  Case out the place and look for witnesses.

3.  Bring some muscle.

4.  Consider bailing on the job if people are around.  Don’t let others see what you are doing.  Count all cash at another location.

5.  Keep your engine running and be ready to split if things go South.

Now I’m more nervous than ever.  I’m deciding to just go with the “debit card” thing instead of the “rob a bank” thing.  I will definitely be looking into getting that Bourne Identity chip in my hip though.  I had some more thoughts to share with you, but my wife is coming and I’m afraid she’ll ask me what my PIN is...

Hope you’ve enjoyed reading.  Have a great day and keep “watching for suspicious persons.”

JJ