Your Mama…

by Chris on March 15, 2014 at 8:08 am
Posted In: Landmark Column

Originally appeared in Platte County Landmark

We have crossed into dangerous times. No, it’s not because of nuclear proliferation by North Korea or climate change. It’s because my Mom was excited to watch the Super Bowl Halftime Show by Bruno Mars.

yourmomBruno Mars was supposed to belong to the young people. Halftime shows are supposed to belong to the young people. The older folks are supposed to complain about how the music is too loud and “why can’t they have that wonderful young boy Frankie Avalon singing at halftime?”

Now it’s over. Our relationship is broken now. Beyond repair.

And it’s not just me. Mom’s are ruining America.  Samsung made a claim earlier in the year that only old people own iPhones now. Mom’s ruined the iPhone.  Think of your friend. Now what kind of phone does he or her have? Is it an iPhone? Are they an old person? Case made.

The latest proof is that Princeton University researchers recently published a study predicting that Facebook will lose 80% of its user base over the next three years?  Why? That’s right. Moms have ruined Facebook.

Facebook used to be the place to go for college kids to pick up other college kids.  Then it became the coolest place to post pictures of your drunken Friday nights.  Do you remember when your Mom friended you on Facebook?  It’s probably right up there with the day the Space Shuttle crashed or the day you found out about Santa Claus.  It’s a moment you never forget.  Forever changed.

After that, you started to get posts about making sure you eat your vegetables, and questions about who that blonde was in the picture from last weekend.  It stopped being fun.  So everybody went to Twitter.  Mom is headed there next. Now people are ejecting off of Facebook faster than the Denver Bronco’s chance to win the Super Bowl.

It’s not Moms fault. She doesn’t mean to buzz kill the party.  She’s only looking out for you. And it’s not the first time. Remember your first boy-girl party when you were 14? Remember when she brought out the pictures of you in the bath tub?  Remember your graduation party when she showed the video of you after you got your wisdom teeth pulled out and couldn’t say “potato for an hour?”  These things are adorable to Mom, but they’re humiliating to you.

Moms even ruined blue jeans. Blue jeans used to be worn by James Dean and Elvis. Now “mom jeans” are an actual thing worn by Michelle Obama and… your mom.

Now Mom is going after Facebook and Bruno Mars. Something must be done. The line must be drawn here. You can have Bruno Mars, but leave me Daft Punk and Twitter.

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Imagine…

by Chris on March 8, 2014 at 7:53 am
Posted In: Landmark Column

Originally appeared in Platte County Landmark

“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”

–John Lennon

There’s a new billionaire out there, folks, and it’s a 44 year old woman. Her name is Sheryl Sandberg and she joins the roster of 1,426 billionaires worldwide, according to CNN.com. Only 138 of those are females.

Sandberg made her billion by becoming the Chief Operating Officer of a little company called Facebook.  Before that, she worked for another startup called Google.  Both companies were born out of meager beginnings, by dreamers.

Dreaming is a tricky thing. For every one dream that becomes a reality of any success, thousands of dreams fail to net any substantial value.  America prides herself on being a country that fosters dreamers. Land of the free. Home of the brave. McDonalds, Apple and Coca-Cola were all born by dreamers right here in America. But so was Paul Silvio’s Pizza and Lemonhead’s Attic.

Those two companies are, sadly, not common household names.  Paul Silvio’s was a pizza shop that gave me one of my first jobs. It was a small pizza place just off the I-35 ramp at Parvin Road. I was their first driver. The pizza was, simply, the best you’ve ever eaten. Light years ahead of Pizza Hut or Domino’s, our primary competition.  But we were the little guy, and never seemed to take hold in the neighborhood.  It also didn’t help that the owner went to jail for a short time, but I digress.

Paul Silvio’s Pizza was a dream, and a damn good one. It just didn’t take.  Pizza Hut was the same dream, with different circumstances.  This Sunday, when you’ll be sitting down watching the Super Bowl, you’ll likely be eating Pizza Hut and not Paul Silvios.

Lemonhead’s Attic was an eBay business I started in the early 2000’s.  The company was named after my favorite candy, Lemonheads. And the idea was that I’d sell stuff from my house and also the “buy crap low, sell crap high” philosophy. Predictably, this company didn’t take off and make me rich contrary to  the three books on eBay selling I read that made the respective authors rich.  One guy bought pool tables because he knew a guy that sold pool tables, then sold them for a profit on eBay.  Why couldn’t I replicate the same success selling DVD’s of Star Trek The Next Generation?

So, why was Lemonhead’s Attic not the next Facebook? Why is Sheryl Sandberg a billionaire and Paul Silvio out of business? The truth of the matter is that most of it’s luck. Sandberg and Mark Zuckerberg and Steve Jobs and Bill Gates and Warren Buffett put their pants on the same way we do – by hiring servants to put them on for us – or something like that. There’s not much different. Sure, they might have a little higher IQ, or been born into some pretty fortunate families, but the point of all of this is that I’m not going to stop trying to find that brass ring. I might not be a billionaire at age 44 like Mrs. Sandberg, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to quit.

First order of business… order some pizza.

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I Hear That Train A-Comin’

by Chris on March 1, 2014 at 7:33 am
Posted In: Landmark Column

Originally appeared in Platte County Landmark

It takes a lot to surprise me. And I’m not just talking about the occasional sports upset or getting a large fry when you ordered a medium kind of surprise. I mean genuine surprise. But this weekend it happened.

2014-01-16 13.07.19My son and I embarked on our yearly “let’s leave Mom the hell alone – she’s getting that look in her eyes that she might murder us” weekend and we headed up to Chicago for a guys weekend. Trying to be thrifty, we booked travel via the MegaBus. If you’ve never ridden the MegaBus, think Southwest Airlines mixed with a cattle car and throw in a couple of unknown odors that just randomly waft by.  And repeat for 11 hours.

The MegaBus is not something you enjoy, but rather something you survive – like marriage or an IRS audit or testicle surgery.  Though that’s not the surprising part.

We enjoyed our guys weekend, taking turns farting, eating junk food, visiting landmarks and walking around the Windy City checking out the prostitutes on the sidewalks. (It was about 15 degrees, so we only saw about a dozen.)  And we spent three days living like men – in that we ordered room service and left the door open when to took a crap.

The surprising part of our journey was the commute home. About three minutes after we left the MegaBus, I decided that there was no way in hell we were going home that way. Short of walking, I found a cheap ticket on Amtrak. Neither of us had taken the train before but it was recommended by a friend and the odor couldn’t possibly have been as as the bus.

2014-01-017So, on Sunday we headed down to Union Station in Chicago and boarded the train. Riding the rails, we called it, as the conductor looked at us funny. Additionally, he didn’t seem pleased when I asked to blow his train whistle. But I digress.

What followed was the most relaxing journey I never expected.  I fly Southwest Airlines a lot and I sometimes have to drive my wife’s dinky car – so I know about being cramped.  The seats on Amtrak are like walking onto a boat. They fully recline. They had leg rests. It was heavenly. Where has this been my whole life?

There was an electric plug for my iPad and a lounge car with booze for my liver. I was in heaven for seven hours.  Along the way, however, I started to get pretty angry that my parents loaded the four children into the station wagon every summer during my youth to drive to California or Nebraska or Florida. All of those fights, all of those “accidents,” all of the threats to turn around and go home from the front seat. Those could’ve all been swept away by riding on the cloud that is Amtrak.

But Amtrak is constantly in the news saying that they are near bankrupt and continue to drop offerings around the county. I’ll tell you, after one ride, I’m hooked. I’m a train rider now.  But Amtrak is doing nothing to help their own cause. They’re really missing out on their target demographic – fat guys.

Those seats are so comfortable, all they’d have to do is install WiFi and a television and you’d get five million fat guys traveling from KC to Chicago in no time.

But the surprising thing about it is how much my son enjoyed it. “This was awesome, Dad.” And that, at the end of the day, is what it’s all about.

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Cheaters Always Win

by Chris on February 28, 2014 at 6:57 pm
Posted In: Landmark Column

Originally appeared in Platte County Landmark

I’ve gotten it all wrong.

Thank you, Alex Rodriguez, Chris Christie, Lance Armstrong, and a host of others for reminding me about a valuable life lesson… Throw out that “liar, liar, pants on fire” nursery rhyme and let’s go with “cheaters always prosper.”

Lying is in. Cheating is the new black. I think I’m ready to learn from my mistakes in the past and finally embrace the dishonest lifestyle that will put me on top.

Alex Rodriguez continues to remind us that cheating always pays off. Oh sure, he’s facing a little bit of trouble in the way of a 162 game suspension from Baseball for taking steroids, but that’s a drop in the bucket compared to the $300 Million he’s made playing baseball over his career.  All the while, denying he ever took any performance enhancing drugs even though evidence suggests the complete opposite. A-Rod even has folks coming out of the woodwork who admit to injecting him with things. No matter. Deny, deny, deny.

But Chris, you say that Lance Armstrong was stripped of his seven Tour De France titles. Yeah, but HE GOT TO HAVE SEX WITH SHERYL CROW. The man only had one testicle. Do you think he’s going to bag a hottie like Sheryl Crow without some PED’s?  Another victory for cheating.

Jump ahead to politics – oh there’s never any lying in politics. Let’s look at the latest scandal, this one featuring New Jersey Governor Chris Christie who denies any involvement with creating traffic jams on the George Washington bridge. A bridge named after, ironically enough, a man who could not tell a lie.  What does Christie do? Denies any involvement in the face of mounting evidence that he caused the problem.  Christie might be the next President, hell, he might be elected King or Pope or something. Brilliant move, Governor!

Just think what I can accomplish with a new slate – one where I’m dishonest. I could start taking performance enhancing drugs, which, for a newspaper columnist, is really just black coffee and Red Bull. But those are two things I don’t currently drink. Doesn’t matter. I’m heading for newspaper glory.

Maybe I should just start copying columns out of The Pitch and turning them in. Oh boy, let the money start rolling in!  All those “good” manners and traits my parents taught me like never telling a lie and respecting others — garbage. Daddy needs him some moolah!

I can start lying. Oh boy this is going to be great. Sure, Mr. Editor, I fact checked every one of my quotes, like the one where the Mayor said that all police cars will soon be equipped with a stun gun that shoots Skittles at pedestrians. Nope, got the quote myself. Just print it. BOOM. COME ON PULITZER!!

I suppose I could continue to tell the truth and be kind to my elders and make complete stops at traffic lights. Naaahhhh… Look out world, you’ve got one lyin’, cheatin’, dopin’, druggin’ newspaper columnist about to raise some hell in 2014 – A-Rod style.  Now, can somebody get me Sheryl Crow’s number? I need a date to the Newspaper Awards.

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Sochi Olympic Promoters Make Stunning Tribute to Broadcasting Icon

by Chris on February 7, 2014 at 1:26 pm
Posted In: Funny

SOCHI: Olympic promoters today made an alteration to their programming at the last minute to make a stunning and eye-watering tribute to one of America’s most beloved broadcasters. Bob Costas, who has been crippled by a pink eye infection, bravely battled through it during last night’s broadcast opening of the 2014 Olympic Games.  In response, the normally tight lipped Sochi organizing committee erected the following monument during the Opening Ceremonies.

Not a dry eye could be found in the place. Mostly because of the bacteria in the water. But still. It was a nice moment.

OlympicCostas

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