Momnesia

AUGUSTA, GA. - Rather than recycle this post again, which seems unfortunately to have gained relevance, rather than lost it, I decided to stop my annual tirade and focus on a NEW annual tirade: That of stupidly offensive costumes.

Every ding-dang year, you see one. That guy. That guy who thinks he's being super clever or funny, but is really just being a big dummy. Now, there's nothing in the law that says you can't be a big ol' ball of stupid. Heck, there's nothing in the Ten Commandments that says you can't be a raging butt-head. No number 11 that says, "Thou shalt not do stupid things to get attention by annoying people."

But some people just don't get it. So I'm here to tell you that if what you're wearing tomorrow night falls within one of the following categories, you need to refer here for a quick costume change.


1. Blackface or Brownface - Let's start with what should be The Most Obvious Thing Ever. It does not matter if you are portraying an African-American character, and darkening your skin makes you look more realistic. It's racist, racist, racist. So cut it out. No, don't argue. No one wants to hear your condescending justifications. Just don't do it.



Alternate costume: Lucretia Mott or William Lloyd Garrison. Don't want to go historical? Just click here for a costume that lets you go as yourself.


2. ISIS or Al-Qaeda - OMG. No. First of all, you're dressing up as horrific mass murderers. Which... okay, it's Halloween. But these are horrific mass murderers of the relatives of people you know. Someone you know, in the country right now, has experienced the loss of a loved one due to the disgusting mess in the Middle East right now. In addition, there are  hundreds of thousands of members of the military - and former members of the military - who are walking around, in the dark, with their kids. Do you really want to trigger their PTSD? Finally, you're bastardizing the national/folk costume of millions of law-abiding, peace-loving people. Let's just be respectful, okay? Side note: Also don't dress as a school shooter. My god, are you a sociopath?



Alternate costume: You want to be a scary mass murderer? Maybe choose something a little more storybook, like the Headless Horseman. Want to insult the folk costume of a culture you don't understand? Go as a resident of Houyhnhnm. But just the hind end.


3. Ray Rice or Michael Brown or Adrian Peterson - There is nothing funny about domestic violence, police shootings, or child abuse. Nothing.




Alternate costume: An Olympic curler. No controversy. Just wear pants with a crazy print, carry a broom and crouch down and yell at things all night. See? You can still be obnoxious.


4. Ebola or A Mental Illness or An Eating Disorder - People live and die with these diseases. Be respectful. Other people's pain should not be your source of amusement.



Alternate costume: Bob Ross or Mister Rogers. Bring a little peace, empathy, and kindness into the world. Wouldn't it be nice to hand out postcard-sized paintings of happy trees all night?


5. Dead Celebrities - Look, Marilyn Monroe in her famous pleated white dress is something we all understand. It's not original, but it is iconic. Mrs. Doubtfire is a funny costume. But Mrs. Doubtfire with a noose around her neck? You suck.


Alternate costume: A black and white film star, or pop art cartoons. You clearly want to be someone famous. Make it fun.

Now go out there and make Halloween safe, fun, and a little less stupid.

AUGUSTA, GA. - Emerson and I went to the Jack‑O‑Lantern Jubilee last weekend. We brought her best friend, K., with us, and picked up two more munchkins while we wandered the festival site. T. is a nice girl whose mom is a good friend of mine. But I had never met J., a child who goes to school with Em. Let me tell you, this kid was hilarious. Smart, funny, articulate, good-natured. I have a problem with wanting to take everyone's child home with me, so naturally when T.'s mom took her home, I went to his mother and asked if he could attend Trunk or Treat with us that evening.



To my great surprise, having never met me before, she agreed.

"Are you sure? I could be an ax murderer," I joked.
"But you haven't murdered your child," she grinned.
"Well... not yet," I said. Uh... hee?




Anyhoodle...

What a wonderful time they had, running around like little maniacs. I wrangled a random smorgasbord for dinner, which they barely touched, and then we rampaged through Trunk or Treat.

While there were lots of slapstick moments - because kids fall down, whaddaya gonna do? - the best part of the whole day was listening to them talk to each other in the backseat.

Emerson: "I'm a unicorn!"
K: "I'm a princess!"
J: "I'm a ninja!"
Emerson: "Wull, I'm an allicorn princess!"
K: "Well, I'm a gothic princess!"
J: "I'm a pedophile!"

SCREECH! Hold the phone. Do what?


The members of the backseat peanut gallery were too busy laughing their pants off to notice my shock. Apparently, that was the funniest thing that has ever been said in the entire history of fourth grade.

Me: "J., sweetie, are you sure you know what a pedophile is?"
J: "Uh.... no, not really."
Me: "It's like a really bad thing that you definitely don't want to be, honey. If you said that in a group of people other than this one, they'd think something was very wrong. You might even get in trouble."
J: "Oh....."
Me: "But you didn't know that, so don't stress about it."
J (brightening): "Okay! I'm a SUPER ninja!"

I made a mental note to mention it to his mother.

So while peach isn't The Worst artificial flavor, it's in the top five. As determined by me.

Again, I really enjoyed this tea. As I stated above.

Will I buy a $1.75 can of tea to drink every morning?

No.

Will I buy a $1.75 can of tea to drink every once in a while?

...Maybe?

But for those people who would do so, I highly recommend giving these teas a try. They really are super tasty. Even if they're in a can.

AUGUSTA, GA. - So, as you all know, I sometimes get new products to try. I have yet to be paid to write a review, and I'm in no way obligated to write one. But I like to, so here goes another one.

Klout.com sent me a box of various +Fair Trade Certified items to try.


That's good groceries, right there. I'm going to be certain to eat all of that right up, you can be sure. But I saw the dang [sic] coconut chips, and almost dove in headfirst.

You should know that coconut is A Thing for me. I love the taste and texture and smell - even the overly sweet, pungent odor on the beach is pleasurable to me. Part of my adoration is its exoticism. Part of it is my amusement that coconuts are more vicious than sharks. Seriously, y'all, when there is an amusing statistic or story behind something, I will develop an unnatural affection for that item. It's just how I am.

But the biggest part of my love for coconut is the memory of the Best Cake Ever. My great-grandmother, Mama Ida, used to make a coconut layer cake from scratch whenever we'd visit. Of course, everything on her table was amazeballs. Fried chicken, green beans, mashed potatoes. But that coconut cake sat on her cake stand on a nearby shelf and taunted me the entire meal. No cake has ever lived up to it. Mainly because the flavor of the cake is shrouded by a veil of childhood memories long since filtered into postcard nostalgia.


However, these little morsels of joy from dang come close to satisfying my desire for it.

Vincent Kitirattragarn is the founder of the company. Coconut chips are apparently a big snacky thing in Thailand, which is from where the mother of the company's founder hails. His mother's name? Dang. The website says:

Dang is named after my mother, who grew up eating food from some of the best chefs in the world: Bangkok’s street vendors. One day, she passed on her recipe for Thai Lettuce Wraps just like she used to have as a college student. I found myself involuntarily snacking on one of the ingredients - Toasted Coconut. It had a strong, sweet aroma and a very satisfying crunch. I immediately called my family, who have been importing goods to the US for more than 30 years, and with that, our company was born.

Vincent took the coconut chips and turned them into a snack of their own. And then the big jerk went and coated them in dark chocolate.


That's all lovely, you say. But how do they taste?

Psh. Awesome. Of course. The earthy, bittersweet, smooth chocolate perfectly pairs with the delicate, sweet, dense, fibrous coconut chips. The bite-sized pieces are a satisfying chew, with a pleasant grind and slight squeak in the teeth.

The company sells several other flavors of coconut chips: plain, lightly salted, caramel sea salt, and Greek yogurt-coated. dang foods provides a free recipe book for download.

Best of all, this is an American company, certified fair trade, and the product contains just four ingredients: Coconut chips, dark chocolate, tapioca dextrin, and confectioners glaze.

A word to the wise, however: coconut meat is a powerful laxative. Snack wisely. Don't be like the people caught unaware by sugar-free Gummy Bears.

1. Ooh, new connection requests! Yay!

2. Wait, I thought I'd already contacted everyone on my contacts list about connecting on LinkedIn.

3. Eh, I have a lot of contacts. Maybe I missed some.

4. Who's this?

5. Who's that?

6. I don't know half these people who have requested that I connect with them. No disrespect, but this is LinkedIn, not Twitter. It's for professional networking, so we should probably be in each others' general circles.


7. Who is this? Do I report this person for trying to connect with me when we don't know each other?

8. No. That's a douche move. Maybe I'll meet this person later. I'm sure I will find him/her to be lovely.


9. This person is a director of sales, so we might have a lot in common.

10. Oh. For a car dealership. That means you're going to try to sell me a car. I have a car. Rejected. Sorry.

11. And here's one from an insurance agent I've never met. You're going to try to sell me insurance. Rejected. No offense.

12. And here's someone else I don't know whose entire LinkedIn profile consists of 6 months running a home-based multi-level marketing business. Rejected aaaaaaaand.... reported.


13. Doesn't anyone I know want to connect?

14. Here's another one I don't know.

15. And another one.

16. Ugh! Reject, reject, reject, reject - wait...

17. Oh! I know her! I worked with her, like, 15 years ago!


18. No, wait, she was horrid to me. Nevermind.

19. Psh! I can't believe she'd try to connect with me. The nerve...

20. Oh, she lost her job and is looking for a new one... (sigh) Okay, fine. But I still don't like you. Accepted.


21. Hey! This person works where I work!

22. But so do 12,999 other people. And I don't know 12,990 of them.

23. Do I accept her request?

24. Eh, why not. Accepted.

25. Sooooo.... one. One nebulously connected person out of the 20 connection requests.

AUGUSTA, GA. - The photo above is the main screen at The Big Mo in Monetta, S.C. It's about 45 minutes from Augusta, and about 30 minutes from Aiken, S.C. Doesn't look like much, does it?

You shut your mouth! The Big Mo is my new obsession.

As a movie lover, I'm always looking for a great experience. IMAX was an exciting development, but I am priced out of that market. Plus, most screens that claim to be IMAX (Augusta Regal Cinemas, I'm talking to your very disappointing selves) aren't what you imagine when you think of IMAX, which is this:



Stadium seating is nice, but how much you can enjoy it depends on the behavior of the other 200 people stuck in a black box with you. Let's face it, the theater experience is not always great. It's so claustrophobic. I never know what to do with my arms and legs. Who gets the arm rest? How much reclining can I do? When can I get up and go to the bathroom without irritating the people around me? Why is that baby crying? Wait a minute - are we on a plane? 

Plus, I don't want stupid day-old popcorn. I want real food. 

Essentially, all the modern trappings of movie-going have done nothing but make me want to go to the movies even less.


Well, here come our grandparents to save the day. Because The Big Mo, a drive-in that originally opened in 1951, deals with all of these quandaries, and more.



First of all, the people around you are there to chill. No one is going to get on your nerves. If they do, you are probably being a little grumpy, do dial it back, Gramps. Kids can run around and play before the movie - see the playground in the top photo above? Adults can get up and stretch their legs whenever they want.

Second, you can design your seating in whatever way makes you comfortable. Some people park their car and watch the movie from their regular seats. We bring camp chairs, like a lot of folks. But I've seen kids chilling on inflatable couches, teenagers lounging in the back of mini vans with stadium blankets, and even a family snuggling together on an air mattress on the grass, complete with a quilt and pillows. I'll admit it: I was kind of jealous of them. But Emerson and I watched part of "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" from the top of the playground set. That was pretty awesome, too.


Third, the Big Mo's concession stand serves everything from cotton candy to mozzerella sticks. And it's all reasonably priced and pretty darn good. We got a half-pizza for $7. Hot dogs are $1.75. Cheeseburgers are $3.50. Plus Emerson wanted boiled peanuts, because she's crazy for them, so that was $4, but not a customary expenditure. Still, other families brought in their own food in picnic baskets. Some folks in a pick-up truck behind us were enjoying plates of pulled pork barbecue. Heck, yeah.


Finally, at $8 per adult and $4 per child, for a double-feature, the price of admission is more competitive than big box theaters. We last went Oct. 10. "Alexander" was in its first week of release, and the second film was "Guardians of the Galaxy." The Big Mo really knows how to pair movies for families.

Bonuses: The theater was recently given a grant from Honda to digitize their projection system, making them able to bring newer movies to their three screens. And they even have a loyalty card, called the Frequent Star Gazer Card.



Because when you're not looking at the screen, you'll be gazing at the sky.

AUGUSTA, GA. - Someone I love sent me an email recently. That email, which I should have deleted the moment I saw "FW:" in the subject line, has stuck in my craw, as we say in the South. It was an email that said, essentially, that Newsweek magazine was out of business, now. But before they closed, the editors printed a take-down of President Barack Obama so passionate as to shake the very foundations of his support.

A simple check of Snopes revealed it as the hokey propaganda I knew it to be: http://www.snopes.com/politics/soapbox/affirmative.asp

But that wasn't the only thing that clued me in that it was not worth the rise in my blood pressure to read it...

First, Newsweek is still in business.



Second, this piece was never published by a reputable news organization - no matter how much the website American Thinker wants to be regarded as one. It's really just a news aggregater.



For this particular piece of propaganda to work on an audience, it must be couched as a surprising about-face from an organization that Obama-opponents would say supports him - which is anyone and everyone who doesn't diametrically oppose him, of course. The reason it needs to be framed in such a way is because not once in the article does it provide citations for a single claim. Not once does it provide a link or an academic citation to an unbiased third-party source. And all the writer had to do was pull up the Wikipedia article on the man. Even this site cites every claim it makes.



Finally, the lack of citations aren't even the worst part of this piece. The worst part of this piece is the reason that there are no citations: Because it's full of lies.



I won't get into every falsehood, because I just don't have the time. But a good example is this claim: "There is no evidence that he ever attended or worked for any university or that he ever sat for the Illinois bar." There is plenty of documentation and photographic evidence for Barack Obama's birthplace, law school graduation, and university career. I can't immediately find evidence that he sat for the bar exam, but he does hold a license to practice law, which requires a bar exam passing score, so I would deduce from his license that he did. Not that he needs to pass the bar or have been a practicing attorney to be president.

Look, there are plenty of reasons to deride Obama's presidency. Escalation of military intervention in North Africa and the Middle East. The cluster-mess of compromise that is the Affordable Care Act (although I still think it has improved many lives and put insurance companies on notice). And his administration's failure to prosecute the robber-barons who caused the housing and banking collapses.



But there are plenty of reasons not to hate him. Job growth has improved. The auto industry was saved and improved. Expanded hate crime laws now include sexual orientation.



The fact is that it's easier for people to put their hands over their ears (and eyes) and say, "lalalalalalalalala I can't hear you" than it is for them to argue impactfully against policies with which they disagree. That's unethical and just poor sportsmanship. Being angry that your party lost or that policies you don't like are being enacted is no excuse for flat-out lying.



Deal with the political process. In American politics, the ends of an election, policy implementation, or legislative action cannot justify the means. Because the very idea of democracy is based on the means. 

Let's all hope the country does better in the next 8 years. But for the country to do better, we all have to do better as individuals. Let's start by being honest.

AUGUSTA, GA. - Emerson and I were at the Dollar Tree this weekend, getting a new pooper scooper, because Emerson somehow misplaced ours. Which is as disgusting as it sounds.

In the toy section, Emerson saw a ball. And with her typical impression of Foghorn Leghorn, she said, "Scented balls? What are scented balls? Mom, do you know anyone who has scented balls?"


Emerson only has three volumes:

1. Dear God, What is The Emergency?
2. Attempt at Whispering That Sounds Like a Normal Volume
3. Sleeping

She was in emergency mode. I wish I could say I was cool, but I had to walk away for laughing.

When I walked away, covering my hysterical giggles with my hand, she followed me, basically hollering the same set of questions. I had to choke out, "Please stop saying scented balls."

Mistake. She's almost 10, and we've had several co-ed puberty talks, and she thinks the whole dang thing is hilarious. Apparently, every normal body part and function on an adult is just the funniest thing ever. There's no hierarchy. They're ALL The Funniest Thing Ever.

And when I said that, she got it. And fell on the ground belly laughing. I tried to hush her, because her laughing is approximately the same volume as an ambulance siren. But that just made her laugh harder. I walked to the other end of the aisle, so I could still see her, but perhaps my mortification would be far enough removed that it would no longer amuse her so much.



And it worked. She caught up with me a minute or two later, still grinning so wide her face might have cracked, and still chuckling. But calm enough that I didn't feel the need to gag her.

"Sorry, Mama. That was just so funny!"

"Mmm..." I refused to comment, and resumed shopping. Then I heard it.

"sssssssscenteeddddd baaaaaaaaallllllsssss....[snort][chortle]"

She followed me around the store, whispering the phrase over and over. Needless to say, it was the fastest shopping I've ever done.



She collapsed into a fit of belly-laughing in the car, while I tried to keep a stern look on my face.

"Doodle, I understand that you think that's funny, but it's really more of a private funny. Not something to share in public," I chided her.

Her eyebrows shot back on her forehead in dismay. "But, mom, that's why I was whispering!"