The Hyperion Chronicles

#31 Potpourri, Volume II

Here are a few more random thoughts:

I was watching T.V. Land the other day with my flatmate Fuzzy, who is in his forties. The program, from the 1970s, was about a Mexican kid who rides around in a Winnebago, on the orders of a talking crystal. The kid would then gain powers from some Greek gods, which enabled him to turn into a middle aged white man with a cape who…well, you get the idea. It occurred to me that if governments can apologize for atrocities they committed in the past, then SOMEBODY should apologize for the 70s. Fuzzy pointed out that Star Wars came from the Seventies, but I saw this as an aberration rather than the norm. However, I started wondering if, in 25 years, some punk kid would ask me to apologize for Regis, Adam Sandler movies, and Celine Dion. Well, I want to go on record and formally apologize for all three. Celine Dion-we should never trust Canadians to send us entertainment. Adam Sandler movies-well, the war on drugs takes time to fight. As for Regis, he seemed harmless enough at the time. So, sorry to all you future generations. And I expect some sort of Hallmark card for Disco.

Speaking of apologizing, some would have us apologize for Jerry Springer. Not me. While Springer is sure sophomoric, I consider it national therapy for idiots. All the people (read: white trash) who would never go to a psychiatrist can go on T.V., get their fifteen minutes of fame, and work out our problems. As for the rest of us, once we lesbian Nazi hookers abducted by UFOs and forced into weight loss programs, our lives don’t seem that bad.

If I could impart to future generations a second bit of wisdom, it would be this: never grocery shop after just being paid and while starving.

Second stat of the day: For the first time ever, overfed obese adults threaten to become more numerous than underfed ones. Worse, yet, they are all wearing spandex.

Is there any situation, from surgery to graduations to ending feuds, which cannot be improved upon by the gift of a stuffed animal? No, there is not. Remember that the next time you don’t know what to get your boss/pastor/mother-in-law. Nothing says class like a stuffed hippo.

M&Ms and Luck have a lot in common. The experts tell us all the different colored M&Ms taste the same, and there is no such thing as luck. In our heart of hearts, though, I don’t think we believe either.

Doing research for a book on Cookies and Boats, I came across this information. The Oreo came into the world the SAME YEAR that the Titanic made her maiden voyage and sunk. I don’t think I am the only one to see the implications here.

And finally…

One time my mother and I were arguing about the worst pain in the world. She maintained it was childbirth, while I held to my position that the worst feeling in the world was being hit with a frozen Snickers bar. Mom went on and on, lecturing me on how I would never know the hardships of being a woman and birthing a child. Finally, I had to go for the kill. “Mom,” I said, “After you had me (her firstborn), did you want to have any more children?” “Of course.” She replied. “Mom, I NEVER want to get hit in the groin with a frozen Snickers bar again.” ‘Nuff said.

Keep fighting the good fight,

Hyperion
March 30, 2001