I’m far from a Television freak, but finding myself absolutely socked in by fog one day during the first week of the New Year, I sat and clicked through every channel and paused to view every possibility the average American viewer could be subjecting themselves to. You know, (didn’t mean to quote Caroline Kennedy there) the crap everyone watches. It seriously took only a few clicks before I picked up my notebook so I could share this short term enlightenment with you.

It’s radically random mind you, but for those who have never done this, here’s your TV 2009 channel clicking overview. (In 300 words or less)

Losing Presidential candidate Huckabee has his own show on Fox, and his first show guest of 2009 was “The last man to see Elvis alive!” Huck’s show sounds like it will also soon join the ranks of ‘loser’.

I discovered that Heath Ledger can out act Christian Bale any day.

It shouldn’t be fair for “Wild Bikes, Babes and Trucks” to only be available on pay per view.

I can still buy health insurance for five bucks.

Stocks Surged to start 2009! Yeah right!

All kinds of folks want to buy your old jewelry.

Don’t you guess “Porn star Strip Poker” would end up being anti climactic?

Yes, you can still apply for a Capitol One credit card. You lucky dog! Like they haven’t already done enough for you.

There’s still a chance I can win a large cash award if I’ve had an MRI, worked around asbestos or taken certain anti depressants.

In the somethin’ for nothin’ category, you can still dump a major part of your well deserved tax debt by hiring a tax attorney that knows how to negotiate your obligation onto the backs of honest taxpayers.

Clinical psychologists must be approaching desperation when they appear on news shows to ‘discuss’ some scumbag who shot someone else point blank for being too loud in a movie theater. Do you really think it would be worthwhile to hang around for this conversation?

For some ungodly reason the average American wants to buy their glue, toilet cleaner and yes, even health insurance from someone who can’t talk without yelling.

Has anyone ever seen Anthony Bourdain actually cook anything?

The Korean Parliament should hold training programs for American citizens, so we can have a shot at kicking our Representatives’ asses like they do.

Turner Classic Movies is still the best source of quality entertainment on the tube.

Why do I get confused about who the loser is and who the victim is on shows like ‘Cheaters’?

Thank your lucky stars daily that every drug company is represented on every channel as if it’s a street corner? Leveling your attitude, lowering your blood pressure and ‘raising’ your libido. Drop something new today? The sixties live.

The obesity research institute continues to drive home the fact that I’m unattractive.

Are there that many people who want to give up their annuities, trusts and lottery winning to shysters who’ll pay a pittance for it?

Rejoice my brothers and sisters, there’s an entire channel devoted to selling you the most sought after Barrack Obama Coin. No seriously! And tastefully colored to appear like a gambling table chip.

And thank God there’s still an “F” word, thanks to Gordon Ramsey!

Please know I tried to put these notes in some semblance of importance. You can understand the impossibility.

My latest rant got started the other day when Doug came to help us knock out the “Best of” awards for Sacramento Magazine’s March of Dimes fundraising party. I lashed out at one of the my people about a grammatical error, and Doug brought up the phrase ‘fatally wounded’. He thought it bothersome since, in many instances, the media could just say ‘killed’ but opts not to.

Well, that pretty much opened up the topic to some real aggravations. I still cringe at the reporters who consistently speak of people who ‘went missing’. How the hell do you ‘go missing’? Remember when people disappeared? Certainly didn’t sound so crazy to me. Oh wait a minute, you’re not supposed to say crazy anymore either, are you?

The more my feeble little mind files away these provoking thoughts, the more I recall memories of similar grammatical usages. I just remembered the use of ‘going AWOL”. I guess that’s not too different.

‘These ones’ drives me nuts. Just stop it! It’s conjures up imaginary toothless characters from the movie Deliverance.

Ever had something explained to you recently by someone who believes an event happened ‘on accident’? I don’t know why it grates on me so. A lifetime of English, used as skillfully as Mrs. Gallatin would have loved to hear it, only to have the rules changed in the middle of the game. (Mrs. Gallatin was my second grade teacher)

Of course the idea of the media jumping onto contemporary ‘loose language’ says a lot about their understanding of what’s proper. I guess if you never knew the correct wordings, you can’t expect to identify the wrong terms.

The bombings and kidnappings in India found the New York Times skirting the labeling of terrorists with the use of simple terms like ‘gunmen’. It’s obvious their political correctness mandate has finally reached the point when newspaper people like the Times will no longer be identifying murderers as religious zealots or Islamic terrorists. Heaven forbid that population of vermin might be insulted, not to mention the jeopardizing of the Times award from the ACLU.

Oh Hell, considering where we’re headed, maybe ‘on accident’ ain’t a big deal after all.

Merry Christmas everyone!

The first days of fog were the signs of change I could count on. I knew that the season was upon us. It started when I could see my breath as I walked to the door to let the dogs out. (I don’t leave the heat on at night)

It took an extra few weeks for the ridge line around the property to start its transformation. The canopy of forest green has finally allowed the autumn hues to intermingle. Majestic mixtures of regal golds, yellows and rusty reds are flowing down to meet the roads, and I’m thankful for the performance.

A little closer to home the show was shared by the others that live with me. The songbirds have managed to shake the leaves of the wisteria out of the arbors. The quail are close to competing with the deer as far as the trails they leave going in and out of their habitats. Hummingbirds are even getting a little more hostile with one another in their circling of the sugar water jars.

Traveling up and down the driveway to put down some road base I noticed a commotion created by the crows hiding in the big yellow and red leaves of a lonely Amber. It was entertaining enough when they started the calliope-like jumping from the branches down to the ground and then back up into the low hangers, then down and then up.

But one of these characters seemed a bit stand offish from the others.

He took his time flitting around. He seemed to be trying harder to flap his wings when he rose into the bottom of the tree. His gliding to the ground wasn’t quite as graceful as the others. And since he wasn’t as skittish when I walked by, I realized he was probably one of the generation that wouldn’t be returning next spring. I saw his steps as being more purposeful. His gaze toward my own eyes paused as if to attempt more of a connect. Nothing shy about this guy. The feathers that poked out awkwardly from his wings,

and the cowlick atop his head added to the appearance of his old age which escaped me when I walked past the first time. I had stopped the old power wagon by now to see if he would take off, but he was content to continue his chores, and apparently liked my company.

I took a big breath to cash in on the fresh cold air, then started back to the shop. I probably looked back a half dozen times to see if he was still there. He was. He was with his friends and I couldn’t offer him a better environment if I tried.

Back up at the house I caught the last of the afternoon sun warming the distant ridgeline again. I think it’s even more vivid with color than a few hours before. It’s much easier now, for me, to allow thoughts of sorrow to take their rightful place. To transfer my thinking away from the thought of growing old, back to experiencing the splendor of the color gold.

Last week I was gazing out the front window, appreciating the warmth of some autumnal sunshine, wondering whether there would be any business today and becoming more used to not having any, when a youngster walked into the gallery.

I say youngster meaning one of high school age in appearance. He was unusual though. He didn’t have any piercings or tattoos, was wearing pants that fit, had hair that actually laid down, and he didn’t bring a skateboard in with him. He must be part of that millennial generation I’ve been hearing about. I figured he’s was probably on a class project to do a report on an artist, since that had been happening a lot lately. He asked if I had any older presidential portraits prints or historical events, and I thought, now that’s new!

Do they still teach history in school? And besides, this kid really sounded like he was interested in the project. He mentioned Ronald Reagan, and my ears perked up. “You know about Ronald Reagan”, I asked? “Sure”, he said, “I knew about Reagan before I learned about him in class”. Well now young man, let’s find you what you need. We sat at the computer and I brought up a couple publishing sites and in a few minutes we chose several small prints for him to use in time for his project. His name turned out to be James, and I not only thanked the young man for his business, but thanked him for making me realize there were still young people that knew history.

I needed that. I need it because I’ve been inundated by ‘Obama youth’. By that I mean young folks that have NO sense of history as I know it. I don’t mean to say that I expect the X and Y generations to think the same way I do. It’s just that it’s impossible to relate to the voters of today that use qualifiers like “he’s fresh”!

If one of these self centered little ‘Duh generation’ punks could make me trust their judgment by reciting a worthwhile quote or accomplishment by one of their generation idols, I’d be all ears, but there never is any ability to relate to the United States of America, and if you can’t do that, you’re of little relevance to me.

I’ve had enough of the self centered generation, the ‘I want to be the boss’ generation, and the entitled generations, thank you very much.

I also hope there will be true future heroes for the Millennial generation because I haven’t been impressed by the thugs and leeches that have preceded it.

God bless you James, and I hope you aced your class project. I appreciated the respect you evoked, the hard work you put into your schoolwork, and the fact that you know something about the country you live in besides what’s owed to you. You have a perceived future that will bring you success and I hope it’s generous to you.

As for me, the future doesn’t look so hot, but I’ll be ok, even if I have to live with the new identity that’s been bestowed upon me. “One of the Selfish”.

Me? Out of compliance?

Just when I thought I noticed telemarketing calls, this new snake oil pusher enters my shop. It’s a young dude along with either a trainee or a supervisor, wanting to talk to me about the absence of any labor law or minimum wage posters around the place. He just happened to be the one I’m ‘supposed’ to be buying these posters from. “By law” he says, I’m supposed to have these declarations posted.

My right eye began to twitch a bit. Not enough for anyone to notice, but I could feel it, and I figured I better bring this to an end quickly before I involuntarily reverted to my ‘outside voice’.

“No thanks, I don’t need anything”.

But no! This little twerp steps forward and asks, “You don’t mind being out of compliance?”

Now I’ve been receiving marketing crap for these posters for years from companies disguising themselves as government entities so folks like me would be sucked into buying them under threat of legal action. They’re no more legitimate nor honorable than the yellow page invoices phonied up to look like bills for ads you placed.

Now telemarketers have to be a singular lot to believe down deep inside that it’s ok to subject small business folks to constant interruption and at times rude behavior that can only be deemed worthless.

Here you have a youngster that doesn’t mind putting this act on to your face.

“No, I don’t mind being out of compliance”. I tell little Mr. Salesdick. I buy workers comp at an exorbitant rate (by law), only to pay for stitches out my own pocket in order to keep from being taken to the cleaners by rate hikes that only Californians have the pleasure of experiencing. No I don’t mind being out of compliance.

Today’s world has me cringing at the thought of every other kind of action that could be levied upon me at any time, thanks to the progress of my country. Good God, if it’s not environmental health, equal opportunity, the draining of my unemployment account by former employees that hide outside income, and a state that won’t police it.

Let me say it again, “I don’t mind being out of compliance!”

How about sexual harassment fears, or the payroll tax burden I live with, not to mention the forms I have to fill out just so I can be in on the bidding process from government offices.

No, I don’t mind being out of compliance. Don’t you mind being an arrogant little bastard? Get outta here!!!