Archive for August, 2012

Bruce and I were just coming back from our favorite charity fund-raiser: Save the Intellectuals. We both feel like this is an endangered group of people that is being overlooked by media, the populace, and of course the unintelligentsia also known as the great unwashed. Since we were dog-tired of the pseudo-concerned talk of the members involved, our conversation got around to, not unsurprisingly, to politics. The question we both spoke, out loud, simultaneously was ” Is the best we can do?”

Ahhh, democracy!

Passing one of those do-it-yourself, serve-yourself yogurt shops popping up so much like mushrooms after a rain, it dawned on me that the current offering of candidates is nothing different than pull-the-center lever for a blend of nothing resembling anything. We’ve got three white men and an African-American running for national office. Without a doubt, there is not really any difference in flavor of these guys. Like cola drinks, they all have different slogans, but still pretty much taste the same anyway. Bruce and I are going to stand up and do something about it.

Yes, yes, we know – third party candidacies never work. Until now. We have, thorough, extensive research and countless non-fat lattes, determined what other third party candidates have been lacking: money. That’s it. Stone-cold, hard and dirty, under the table if necessary, filthy lucre – CASH! With enough of that stuff, you can win. Without it, well, can you say Thomas Vanderweist? No, of course not. TV as his friends (both of them) called him was so underfunded as to be considered maybe a fourth or fifth tier candidate for president in 2000. TV’s candidacy wasn’t covered because absolutely no one knew of it. This is exactly the kind of underdog Bruce and I love and naturally gravitate towards. Everyone loves the lovable loser.

Barney, not old TV.

TV was that and more. Looking more Barney Fife than Barney’s Men Store, he was the type to be overlooked in a room of only him. But he had determination. In his eyes, his candidacy was not a flight of frivolity. He was dead serious. And this seriousness, this one-mindedness cost him dearly. In an attempt to crash and participate in the presidential debates in 2000, TV, while still carrying his campaign placard on his bicycle and not looking both ways before crossing the street, was run over by a drunk driver in Joe Lieberman’s motorcade. It was an event mostly over-looked by the media as they thought he was a meaningless pizza delivery guy.

But this is the gist of his life. He was willing to die for his beliefs. Or that’s what his widow said between scotch and sodas.

So in honor of TV, we are launching a new campaign in the spirit of his, sans the bike accident. (We always look both ways.) But like any other well-oiled (that would be Bruce by 2:00 PM each afternoon) campaign machine, we will need cash. Advertising ain’t cheap, even on small cable channels featuring the Sham Wow. Before that though, we will need a candidate for all of us to rally around. Neither Bruce or I are suitable. There are a few incidents in each of our pasts we would rather not revisit. We also don’t not want to go the typical route of a vetting candidates in primaries. What a waste of money. Let’s save that, in honor of old TV, for victory party pizzas.

Please consider this an open invitation to toss your hat into the ring. Your country needs you. Your country wants you. Your spouse probably wants you out of the house. What could be more perfect?

Yes, your country wants you! Insert your face here.

All parties interested please tell us a little about yourselves: hobbies, favorite color, first pet’s name, third grade PE teacher, and favorite ice cream flavor. Really, this is all we need to vet you as the next president. It’s that simple. Don’t delay because the election is just about 10 weeks away and your country does need you. Besides, just like the other two political parties, we don’t have anything to do before the holidays.

Sometime after Bruce and I returned from the war, we got to reminiscing about the things we missed about serving our country. Certainly the camaraderie of corps, the singularly and spectacularly bad food, pressed combat fatigues, the latest in military weaponry, and a bed made so tightly, one could bounce a coin off of it. And bounce coins we did. I remember one night, I won $ 163.00 bouncing on the… sorry, that’s another story. And don’t ask Bruce either, he won big that night as well.

Not Bruce. Neither of them.

A tight bed. Who could ask for anything better? Room for another to be certain. But a bed made so beautifully, it was almost a sin to throw back the covers. One would just as soon sleep on top of it then muss it up. Good times indeed.

Making a bed the right way is something that takes years to master and perfect. Strict adherence to the process bordering on anal is to be desired. That said, it is an activity best done by oneself (to preserve the relationship) as another will not share your obsession with this. More’s the pity for them. Let them sleep on a futon if that’s the cavalier attitude they strike.

Bruce and I are of somewhat different dispositions on how to make the proper bed. There are a number of ways, some of them correct, others just poor excuses for covering up the wrinkled bed linens. Both of us do prefer different styles that are both correct. In a third-party competition, the measurements of bounce height and rapidity of levitation between the two styles were virtually identical. Neither of us came away with a clear cut sense of victory.

To ensure our continued friendship, we will only discuss one style of bed-making. Since the results were so close as to be indistinguishable from each other, we flipped a coin. On a bed of course. Bruce won so he’ll be sharing his method for making a proper tight bed.

No bed can be properly made without fresh bed clothes. All components must be freshly laundered and still warm to the touch from the dryer upon placement on the bed. This is particularly welcome in colder climates. In the summer, line drying, then ironing is the preferred method.

Of course the quality of the linens is paramount. We recommend a 12oo count Peruvian cotton/hemp blend. It provides an incredible softness with just a touch of civilized rusticity that will remind you of a lodge in the Adirondacks.

But before you even do that, you must have a proper bed. No self-respecting bedder would purchase a bed with a name that starts with an “S”. Yes, that’s right – no Serta, Sealy, Stearns and Foster, Simmons, or Sleep Number. It’s too confusing. We recommend beds by Royal Fumwick Foamerpedic. Our families have used our original Royal Fumwick mattresses for over two decades, and with only an occasional mold problem, they have served us admirably.

So now that you know what kind of bed to purchase and what kind of linens to dress the bed with, you’ll need a few more items to complete the process. The first thing will be new pillows. Thankfully, Royal Fumwick makes a wonderful line of head support that match the coverings on their mattresses. We wouldn’t have it any other way. Would you?

Next you will need a blanket/quilt, whatever to keep you warm. Blankets by Pendleton are not acceptable. What are you, a tree hugger?! That would be too great a mold smell along with the mattress. A down comforter is perfect. Just make sure to purchase a corresponding duvet cover with a high count Peruvian cotton/hemp blend. It is so worth it.

Mrs. Crosby.

You are now ready to make the bed. Assemble all the items you need on the bed, again making sure the bed clothes are freshly laundered and dried. Next, call your housekeeper (in our case, the indomitable Mrs. Crosby) and tell her the bed needs to be made. It’s late and you need your sleep.

Edible idiocy.

Posted: August 13, 2012 in Movies, People, Television
Tags: ,

“People are stupid. They have no couth. They also have criminally small vocabularies. I don’t want to talk with them any longer.” So sayeth the other Bruce. Come to think, I’m the other Bruce too. Who is writing this then? But I, the other other Bruce, digress.

So, so uncouth! (

We were traveling through middle-class, middle-of-the-road, mid-size, mid-America the other day when it dawned on Bruce that the language some use in a pejorative fashion tends to categorize the lesser thinkers among us as nothing more than poor food substitutes. And the longer he prattled on about it, the more convinced I became he might be on to something. But then again, it might have to do with the air-conditioning in our Pignasaurus doing its best impression of global warming and I was in the early stages of heat stroke and thus not in complete control of my faculties.

Now unless we or you are strolling along the African veldt, it’s highly unlikely that any of us would be mistaken for dinner. So why do some persist in putting others down by naming them as food? Unless it’s their secret intent to have us for dinner and I don’t mean over for dinner.

How about meatball: a tasty ball of indeterminate chopped meat usually accompanying spaghetti in a marinara sauce. This was a favorite name for Archie Bunker’s son-in-law Rob Reiner who now looks like a meatball. Life imitating art we suppose. Go figure.

Meatball! (

Or that man is a cold fish. Scaly with dead eyes? Smelly after a few hot days? Not really very nice unless you’re a sushi aficionado or do a mean Christopher Walken impression. Even then as a term of endearment, it falls very short of giving as a goof gift around the holidays. After a while, you too would also smell very badly.

Crackers? We like crackers with pate on them. But this is used in a couple of different ways. That guy is crackers. OK, maybe he is crazy, but you wouldn’t call him Triscuit, would you? And there is the “those crackers over there” use. Do not say this out loud near them. This is far worse. We’re not certain of the origin of this and are afraid to Google it as well. You can’t be too safe, you never know who is reading this. Nah, why worry, they’re just a bunch of dumb crackers anyway.

How about “That is a cheesy outfit.”? Or a cheesy mustache. On the mustache side, one runs the risk of looking like a seventies porn star. Cheesy indeed. Unless of course that is the desired look one is seeking in which case yes, it is definitely cheesy and we have some land in southern California we’d like to sell you. Cheesy outfits are inexcusable. They are usually found in Walmarts where most of the merchandise is Chinese. I don’t know about you, but my Levi’s better be made here…or at the very least Sri Lanka.

Some people are just by nature crabby. Is this due to a childhood deprivation or a nagging infestation that is not generally discussed in polite company? Or were their parents not really interested in finding Nemo after all? This being the Two Bruces, being crabby does not ever apply no matter what affectations we are displaying at the time. We are always of good nature and gentle heart and demeanor until our lacrosse team loses. Then just leave us alone unless you want some cheap sherry thrown at you.

Oh, yum! (

We of course could go on…and on. There is pork/pig, beefy, juicy, tomato, ham, turkey. Wait, that sounds like an awfully good sandwich. Maybe on a ciabatta roll? Stone-ground mustard please. But why bother? If one feels reduced to denigrating another by calling them a food name, go ahead. Breeding will always out. And so will the uncouth.

Everywhere I look, it’s Olympic this or Olympic that. It’s all Bruce has on TV these days. I think it reminds him of his halcyon days as an alternate for the Olympic Snipe Hunting Team. One could not see a sadder face than when Bruce was told he wasn’t going to the 1986 games. Crushed is too mild a word for his disappointment. He was in the best form of his life only to be beaten by some toothless guy from the Ozarks. So sad.

Winning Snipe Hunter! (the

But this year, Bruce and I have come up with a remedy for that – one that will open up entirely new opportunities for hopeful athletes everywhere. It’s one where a number of the cable networks will be clamoring for involvement. Just the sponsorship possibilities are staggering. We are certain at this time you’re asking, “What could this incredibly marvelous thing be? And how do I get involved?”

The Over the Hill Olympics (Othympics or OTHO for short) – pure and simple. Of course some of the current events will have to be modified to accommodate the increasingly fragile participants, but hey, no pain, no gain, right?

All events measured by time will now always have the time rounded up to the nearest minute. We’re not trying to fool anyone into thinking world records will be set by this, we’re just trying to be realistic. And fair. After all, these will be everyday Othympians.

The premier section of the games will be track and field. There will be an ambulatory set of events and a set for those Othympians with walkers. All walkers must conform to specifications lest anyone hold an unfair advantage, such as NASCAR-style drafting design elements. Some events will be shortened in time and/or distance in consideration of eventual darkness, commercial breaks, and nap time. Others will allow for some assistance as in the not-so-high jump. We are trying to be considerate of the injuries that may occur and the infirmities with which the Othympians arrive.

Other games will have new measurements. Take the shot put for example. Throwing it will not be the determining factor who wins. Rather, it will be who can pick it up the fastest without hurting themselves. This will be must-see TV.

Gymnastics will be reduced to one event, but one so important, it’s impact cannot be over-looked. This will the “I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up” competition. All participants will be bodily thrown to the ground. The one who gets up the quickest without using their Life-Alert (TM) wins. This will be incredible on slo-mo instant replay as it will probably be faster than the actual competition and will provide ample commercial opportunity.

Uh-Huh. Gold! (

So, you get the idea. If you have any events you would like us to include, shoot us a comment. We’re open to any ideas.

As we mentioned, this will be ripe for commercial sponsorship and participation. All events can be co-branded by their sponsor. We’ve already compiled a partial list of these. If you have any contacts within these companies, please let us know. Anything that greases the skids will help immensely. Speaking of greasing the skids, one sure-fire sponsor would be Metamucil. Others would include but certainly not limited to: Depends, Life-Alert, One-Touch monitors, Ensure, Beltone Hearing Aids, Flomax, Dollar Stores, the large print edition of the New York Times, Phoenix Life Insurance, the Lillian Vernon catalog, Gold Bond powders, Walk-In bathtubs, Denny’s, and much, much more. The possibilities are staggering. Corporate greed knows no boundaries.

How often does an opportunity like this come along? With the increased amount of baby-boomers going on Social Security, they have more time on their hands to compete or watch on their big-screen TV’s complete with audio assistance. It’s a marketers dream. Who’s with us?

I just don’t understand it.  The Two Bruces are so damn busy they can hardly keep up with basic life needs.  We need to make appointments months in advance simply to have lunch together.  It is very sad.  And, now with football season and the NY Giants just a month away, our schedules will get even worse. So, how do people find the time to be “Facebook Stupid”?

First, I would like to propose some thoughts about Farmville; you know, the farming simulation social network game developed by Zynga in 2009.  Essentially, it features gameplay involving various aspects of farm management such as plowing land, planting, growing and harvesting crops, harvesting trees and bushes, and raising  livestock.  Folks, seriously, if you live in a city and are 50 years old, you should not be playing Farmville.  You should be reading the NY Times once a week, thinking about how to recover your 401(k), and deciding whether reverse mortgages are right for you (they are not).  If that is not enough, how about thinking about serving meals to the poor, picking up a National Geographic, cleaning  the inside of your car, or picking weeds out of your front lawn, all time better spent than virtual farming.  Are you not embarrassed by this?  I mean, seriously;  real farmers say, in Peoria, IL, are dealing with a real life drought and losing their corn crops, and you are likely sitting in your air conditioned bedroom or in your cubicle playing a virtual game involving farming? Phooey on you.   And, are you not embarrassed by asking me to “Join Me In A Game Of Farmville”?   Sorry, I am busy; but maybe sometime in the year 2052, my likely death year.

Second, let’s talk about the stupid act of constantly posting political signs, political leanings, and nasty comments and themes about the opposing candidate in the presidential election. Let me look you in the eye and say that if you truly believe that this type of posting is going to sway my vote, you are likely a dummy and insult my intelligence.     

Oh, thank you Facebook friend and sometimes moron. I just changed my vote based on your newest posting for Mitt  Romney.  Thanks for your important information on him.  I had no clue about his political platform nor did I know anything about the opposing party. I had no clue the Senate was f*****ed up.  I have been playing Farmville all day and just got a little stupid.

Finally, people, who has the time to find and post those stupid and silly touchy feely quotations and inspirations all day long.  You would think that with all of those postings, the people in this country would be rich, thin, beautiful, spiritually enriched, at peace, in love with their neighbors, and just in a good place. NOT!   Here is an example:

I happen to love Maya Angelou.  I happen to not believe in hate.  But what benefit did Facebook readers get when the poster let the world know that he or she does not believe in hate. Come on; does anyone  truly believe that the suicide bomber sitting in some broken down shack, or, the Aurora, CO movie bomber, was moved by this Facebook posting?

Here is another one posted on my page this morning:

Oh, you must be kidding!  Carlos, your words were much more meaningful when you were smoking doobies at Woodstock.  I would have actually listened to you then, rather than on some stupid Facebook posting!

Bottom line, people, don’t be “Facebook Stupid”.  Use this valuable service to provide me with useful information, not to involve me in a game of planting corn on someone else’s computer.