Blast from the Past - Eine Kleine Organmusik

January was a busy time around here at CDS Enterprises (A wholly-owned division of NFG Worldwide, Ltd.) and February isn't shaping up to be much quieter.  As such, I don't always have the time to rant anew - at least not in print.  Being as we are four three months from my cresting (and subsequently being 'over') the hill, it seems only appropriate that I share with you some crotchety posts from the past.

I'm not editing these, except where I may have spelled something incorrectly in my angry fervor.

 

I've never really given much thought to organ donation before, but last week (Correction: November 2006) as I sat in a drive-thru waiting less-than-patiently for my soda, I couldn't help but notice the car in front of me, with the 'ORGN DNR' license plates, and the 'Liver Transplant Recipient' license plate frame.  The combo made me wonder:

1)  Can someone donate an organ they've received as a transplant?

2)  Would this be considered re-gifting?

3)  Do you get an OrganFax report, certifying that your new kidney/liver/whatnot has never been in an accident, isn't flood-damaged, that you're the second owner and nobody has an outstanding lien against your received organ?

I've always been on the fence about organ donation, due in part, I'm sure, to the 'Live Organ Donation' segment of Monty Python's Meaning of Life.

Part of me still honestly, truly believes that the little orange sticker on my driver's license gives the paramedics a sign that they don't need to try as hard.  Logically, I know that probably isn't true, but one can never be too careful, now, can one?

A footnote:  I broke down and signed the organ donation release the same day I passed my test for my motorcycle certification in late 2007.  I figured, even if I'm wearing my helmet, that's hardly enough to let me win a fight with a Peterbilt.  And if you're my mom and reading this, I ALWAYS wear my helmet.

Merry Christmas, Ms. Moneypenny...

 

Have yourself a merry little one, kids.

God didn't buy me a satellite

Not that I expected Him to, nor did I ask.  Certainly, there are far larger things going on in the world than my having to listen to broadcast radio.

All the same, having spent the last three months nearly commercial-free, almost always finding music to suit my mood, whatever mood that may be, suddenly being faced with static, lost stations, non-stop ads, unwitty 'witty morning banter' and country music (actually, it's both kinds: country and western) is like torture.

(And not the good kind, with spankings...)

It was something, driving to lunch with typical early-80's new wave in the background, only to get back in the car after some great tacos to nothing.  Well, an XM advertisement looping non-stop, but not early-80's new wave, to be sure.

I can't say they didn't warn me.  I ignored the mail, the phone calls at inopportune times, even the emails.  Because part of me cringes at the idea of paying for radio.  However, that part is the one with no short-term memory, the holier-than-thou part of my brain that forgets we hate commercials, unwitty 'witty morning banter' and country music.  It's also the same part of my brain that hates buying bottled water or paying for cable, but those are completely different subjects.

I'm just going to have to break down and pay the XM piper, aren't I?

On an unrelated note, have you noticed the trusty sidebar here at CDS Enterprises?  There's a nifty little PayPal button over there, where you can achieve great esteem in the eyes of this site's author by donating to the XM cause.  


No?  Then at least click the email link and ask the nerdy fat guy an interesting question.  It's the least you could do.

And what is the Ponz? He's cool.

Correctamundo.

The times, they are achangin' here at Cheesehead Displacement Syndrome. Once upon a time, the concept was that blog tags would allow you, dear reader, to find those items of greatest interest to you, to neatly flag and categorize my brilliance. Click on a tag for 'bacon', for example, and you get a list of salty, smoked belly goodness.

However, much like the obvious 'Contents may be hot' label on a McDonald's coffee cup, we will be discontinuing the use of the 'nerd' tag for the duration. Because really, I feel like I've been overusing the tag, resulting in an overwhelming mountain of posts for anyone searching the nerdosphere.

As an example of my ever-present nerdiness: After reading news articles, I've come to the logical conclusion that hard work is for suckers. I live in want, a victim of our materialistic society instead of one of its beneficiaries. Where's my reward for a life of ease and shortcuts? How can I best profit from the human need for something for nothing, leveraging both humanity's greed and inherent laziness? After all, one of my co-workers just pulled in with a brand new shiny BMW 7-series this morning, while my old Buick is becoming increasingly temperamental in this un-Floridian cold snap.

As such, I'll be starting a Ponzi scheme immediately, consequences be damned. On December 26, 1919, after spending two whole years trying to earn an honest living, Carlo (or 'Charles', if you prefer) Ponzi established a firm called The Security Exchange Company. He boasted a return of 50-percent interest in 90 days, and the world wanted in on it. And who wouldn't? Paying old investors this return from funds given to him by later investors, Ponzi didn't invent the scam but instead perfected it. He took in $20 million in a few short months, equal to $222 million in current dollar values, and when he fell, six banks crumbled with him.

However, until he was arrested, Ponzi lived the high life. As did Bernie Madoff, who sustained his house of cards for decades before being called to task. And whoever this guy was.

Granted, I'm not looking for 300 cars, a pair of luxury yachts, penthouse apartments (or models) or anything of the sort. But a little taste of the easy life would be cool.

Please send large denominations, non-sequential bills, unmarked and wrapped in a leather jacket. I'll make it worth your while. Really.
Aaaaayyyyyy.

Pie can make the world go 'round

I've always leaned toward the conservative side of moderate, and public welfare projects are fine as long as they aren't at my expense. I've also leaned toward food, because that's how I roll. Today, while thinking about pie for lunch (which I am wont to do from time to time), I discovered there is actually a growing movement in this country where diverse individuals from all over gather in towns across the country to give out FREE PIE.

This is not like the free pie you get at Village Inn on Wednesdays, where you can only pick from three kinds of pie with an accompanying purchase, and they're the crappy pies. Instead it is an assemblage of real, honest-to-goodness home-made pie, passed out by common folk like you and I. They'll even give you assistance setting up a Free Pie Day in your hometown. It seems simple enough. Of course, many of you know that I don't bake, but Lori makes the best pie known to creation, and she loves me, so that's a bonus.

To quote the intent, The Free Pie Movement is the first community outreach venture of PieLab. The message is simple: Sometimes life is bad; free pie isn’t. The Free Pie Movement is founded on the idea that simple gestures, like giving away free pie, can unite communities and spread joy.
They even have a full-time free pie center in Greensboro, Alabama. I'll take that over a Starbucks to plan my anarchy any day!

Spread joy. Share pie. Make the world a little better. This is the kind of charity I can encourage without hesitation.