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My 32nd birthday is approaching and I’ve reached the point in my life where I’m comfortable with what I know…at least I thought I was until I discovered I’ve been using commas wrong for my entire life. Of course, you probably already knew that–you’ve read what I wrote. I took grammar classes and earned a degree in English…only to discover I’ve been completely wrong. now I either hafta unlearn 25 years of improper punctuation (not an easy task) or try to forget what I discovered and continue doing what I’ve always done (easier…but there’s a pride-thing involved).
I was doing homework and stumbled across the definition of independent clauses and this little sentence:
I didn’t know which job I wanted, and I was too confused to decide.
In my opinion, that sentence is improperly punctuated. To me, that comma is completely unnecessary. I don’t know where or why, it just is (comma splice comes to mind). I see that sentence contain two, separate ideas and they’re joined together by an ‘and.’ Alas, it takes more than an ‘and’ to join separate clauses together–you need a comma, too.
Maybe it’s because I grew in New Jersey and they’re not too keen . . . . .
I am a big fan of crappy teen dramas. It started way back with the original “90210” and continues today with the new “90210.” When I was in the midst of my “Dawson’s Creek” phase, I wondered how these television producers could keep coming up with new teen drama plotlines. Every teenager in America goes through the same struggles. I don’t wanna lessen their trauma, but how different is the “Dawson” version of teen drinking compared to “One Tree Hill?” It’s hard to tell a story that’s already been told–at least hard to do and make it seem fresh and interesting.
Back in the original “90210” I remember losing one’s virginity was a major plotline. This theme eventually gets explored in every teen drama and to this 31-year old adult, it’s a little played out. I know I’m not the target audience of these shows, but I’m sure I’m not the only 30-something watching (and if I am, I really need to rethink my life). The shock value of teen sex is completely gone. I remember how controversial a 1991 episode of “Roseanne” was because 17-year old Becky wanted to go on birth control. Unfortunately, that sorta “shock” isn’t shocking . . . . .
Air travel is far from an exact science. I’m not much of a flyer because I rarely go anywhere. When I do, I wonder if it’s worth the inconvenience. Don’t get me wrong: if you’re traveling to Hawaii, it’s worth flying because no one has built a bridge yet. But the hoops and hassles you need to go through for short trips has me wondering if it just be easy to drive.
Passengers are required to get to the airport 90 minutes before their flight leaves. You gotta check in your bags. Worry if the bags weigh too much. Go through the gate. Take off your shoes. Be subjected to random searches. Turn on your electronics. Turn off your electronics. Getting on a plane feels like a twisted version of “Simon Says.”
I understand the need for these security steps but it’s a darn shame that everyone has to go through this because of a few bad apples. A few years ago, some idiot tried to smuggle a bomb on a plane through his shoes and now every commercial passenger is required to put their shoes through an x-ray machine. Eight years ago, a bunch of deranged idiots decided to . . . . .
Recently I walked out of a Jon Cena movie…but not for the reasons you’d think. It only took about five minutes of the “12 Rounds” to make me sick (also not for reasons you’d think). The movie is part of a growing phenomenon in cinematography that I think is ruining movies. I can live with WWE superstars make movies; I can’t stand movies shot on hand cameras.
I don’t understand why more and more movies are shot this way. Instead of using a perfectly balance tripod, a great deal of movies today are shot by handheld cameras. I think directors do it to create a ‘gritty’ feel that puts the audience into the action (in reality, it puts me in the bathroom). This is a style that I’m not comfortable with. The quick pans and extreme close-ups make me queasier than an overeater at an all-you-can-eat buffet of week-old fish. I can’t stand it. Quick zoom. Quick cut. Extreme close-up. Pan left. Pan right. Hurl in the aisle–I’m telling you, it ain’t for me.
I’m not sure I get the appeal of it. Admittedly, I didn’t grow up watching music videos and I’m not a fan of rapid cuts–but I . . . . .
The concept of appraisal values is as confusing to me as slurred Spanish spoken by a stuttering drunk. My brother majored in business so maybe he might be able to grasp the concept better than me (then again, he turned that business degree into a lucrative career of waiting tables for a chain restaurant that promotes “flair”). To me, an item is only worth what people are willing to pay for it. If a rare, 16th century gold coin is worth $2 million that means there’s some bonehead out there with too much money willing to pay $2 million for it. If a painting is worth a hundred grand it’s because someone will pay $100,000 to get it. Guides, catalogs, and estimates mean nothing because I believe market determines price–not some ‘expert’ in an expensive suit with bifocals.
When I was a kid, I use to collect baseball cards and the baseball card collector’s bible was a monthly magazine called “Beckett.” Not only did it provide interesting articles, it also listed the price of every baseball card known to man. This was useful when trading cards with your buddies so nobody got ripped off (“I’ll trade your Carl Yastrzemski baseball . . . . .
Even though I have no job nor any prospects of finding a job, The Wife and I are in the midst of buying a car (and if CNN is right, we might be the only two car-buyers in America). The world economy is falling apart; everyone is scrimping and saving; I have no job–we’re a single-income family…and we still want to buy a car (which says a lot about the state of her current vehicle). This is something we talked about long before stock market Armageddon came. This was a decision we made before I lost my job. The point I’m trying to make is that we’ve need a car for a while now and is not a decision made lightly.
I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon during our hunt–a plethora of incompetent sellers. Since we’re in the market for a used car and I think dealers are the scum of the earth (although slightly better than politicians and insurance executives), we’ve contacted quite a few private parties. I’m not expecting to meet J. Paul Getty when buying a ten-year old used car–but I’d like to meet someone who could at least put a little bit of effort and enthusiasm into . . . . .
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