Wishing Ring

There are tons of fables, fairy tales, and stories about being granted wishes. Almost all of them involve finding a ring, or catching a fish, or rubbing a magic genie lamp that results in you getting three wishes. The first two are usually ill-advised and you need to use the last one to undo the effects of the first two.
   That seems like a lot of wasted effort just to learn a lesson about morality or greed or lust that you probably should already have learned.
   So I got to thinking, what would good wishes be? I'm talking about ones that wouldn't ironically backfire on you or wink you out of existence.

*Fix the air conditioning in my building. Of course, that would probably make it like the South Pole in here, and I don't like penguins. They're not trustworthy.

*Bring prices down in Whole Foods. Of course you can't use wishes to make impossible things happen, like touching your right hand to your right elbow, so this would probably just be a wasted wish.

*Make it so my shirts would never need to be ironed. Which would probably turn them into polyester.

*I'd never want to go hungry. Which would probably turn me into a tree or something else photosynthetic, like phytoplankton.

*Give me the power to run really fast, like the Flash. But I'd probably run right out of my clothes, which would be freeing but would ultimately be embarrassing.

*Find out the secrets to everyday things that no one seems to know the answer to. Like what fire is, exactly. Can't think of a way this would backfire... except I'd probably have to become one of those mountaintop monks, dispensing wisdom only to those with enough moral fiber to make it all the way to my cave. Which ain't bad, actually, as long as I had really fast wireless.

Thou Shalt Not Covet

Think back to when you were ten years old, try to remember your Christmas list. Mine probably had GI Joes on it, maybe an Evel Knievel bendy doll with a wind-up crash car you could sail off the curb, an SST car, probably Hot Wheels, maybe a game or two. But I remember I really wanted Micronauts, especially the Baron Karza figure, a pound or two of black plastic bad guy who could totally pound the rest of the Micronauts, even Acroyear. I really wanted the Baron. Bad. And his horse too, whose name I can't remember. You could make a centaur out of the Baron and his horse, for God's sake! And they had rocket launchers! What kid wouldn't want that? I know I wanted it. Bad. Really bad.
   I didn't get the Baron. Aside from a life lesson in learning how to deal with disappointment, that Christmas day was also the last time I really, really, really wanted something in that childlike, desperate way. Maybe it was the disappointment of not getting the one thing I hoped I would get – but I got underwear, of course – or maybe it was just part of growing up. I never really ached for a material possession like that again.
   Until now.
   See, back in 2008 Nike provided the shoes for the US Fencing team. The shoes were kick-ass and the US Olympic Fencing team kicked ass. Coincidence? I think not.
   Nike was supposed to release the Ballestra fencing shoe that year to the general public but it didn't happen. I even wrote to them, asking when the shoe was coming out but the customer service stooge had no idea what I was talking about.
   Fast forward two summers. It's 2010 and I see an announcement that the Nike Air Ballestra is finally coming out, on the shelves in July. Be still my heart. I got on the Leon Paul web site and watched the video, which included the shoe's designer. Yes, I watched a video about a shoe. And it was good.
   It was like a light went on over my head and someone punched me in the chest. BAM! My Damascus moment. The instant I saw them I wanted those shoes. Bad. Really bad. Ten-year-old-at-Christmas bad.
   Now I know what coveting is, because I am coveting. Coveting like a motherf*cker, and I'm beginning to understand why it's prohibited in the Ten Commandments. The fact that the shoes are $175 makes it a little easier to ignore that little voice in my head that squeaks 'buy the damn shoes.' But I'm not made of stone.
   You will be mine, Nike Air Ballestra. Oh, yes. Sooner or later you will be mine.

Uh-oh...

After a particularly surreal phone interview in which I was turned down because I made too little in my prior job - yup, you read that right, I didn't make enough to be considered for this new position - I had to take a few minutes to unwind. So I clicked through the broadcast channels and settled on 20.1, which in Pasadena is a Spanish-language channel. I don't really speak Spanish, just the curse words, but I was following the story, and after a few minutes it was all making sense to me. Then, in horror, I made a terrible, terrible, shocking revelation. With that one simple act, watching Spanish-language TV even though I don't speak Spanish, my life had completely changed.
   I had turned into my father.
   Once, years ago, I walked into the house to find him watching 'The Seven Samurai' on channel 41, Univision in San Antonio. The movie was spoken in Japanese, but subtitled in Spanish, and my father neither reads, writes, nor speaks either of those languages. When I called him on it he outlined the story for me and continued watching.
   And now the curse has fallen on the next generation. On me. I can see that I will eventually turn into my own grandfather, no use in fighting it, I'm gonna grab this bull by the horns and ride it to the bitter end. I'll need polyester jumpsuits in colors not found in nature, a fedora, black socks with worn dress shoes, and a great-big American land yacht of a car.
   I drive a Chevy Tahoe, so I already got the last one covered. Pray for me.

Sunk So Low

Everyone has things in their life that they're not proud of. Maybe you swept leaves onto your neighbor's lawn, maybe you drove in the carpool lane when you were by yourself, maybe you lied on your resume, maybe you shoplifted Reese's Peanut Butter Cups from the convenience store. Hell, maybe you robbed the convenience store for money to buy meth. Well, I myself have reached a new low.
   Last night, I watched fart videos on YouTube.
   It started out innocently enough, I was looking for clips of epee fencing (that's my sport, what I do for exercise). I went through a few of them, and then I saw this clip of farting dinosaurs available on the right-hand side. I'm not made of stone... come, on, it's dinosaurs farting. So I clicked, and that was the end of the fencing videos.
   An hour later and I still had not scratched the surface of farting videos available on YouTube. Dinosaurs, pigs, hippos, they all farted for my amusement. And the people - jeez, just try to STOP them from farting when there's a video camera around... impossible.
   I knew I had to quit watching, but every time I played one clip, there was another on the list I hadn't seen. I felt like a crack addict must, ashamed of myself but unable to stop the tragedy from unfolding. Finally I had to turn the computer off.
   I'd like to say I cried myself to sleep, but I can't. Some of those videos really are funny...