I wish I could just watch

A serious problem with being Mr. Ohh! is; I can’t turn my brain off. I wish I could. It would be wonderful to be able to sit in front of the television, with a basket of chips resting on my oversized belly, drinking a beer, while yelling at the football game which can’t hear a word I say. I envy guys like that.  No, my brain has to rationalize all that it sees, and have it make sense. This gets very difficult when you think about the rules athletes play by. It makes my highly-developed, complex brain hurt.

I mean, think about Hockey. You can’t cross the red line with the puck unless you’ve crossed the blue line. This makes the game look like a dance competition. On the other hand, you’re allowed to beat the snot out of an opposing player anytime you want. Of course, if you beat him with your stick, you have to sit in time-out for two minutes, like some errant child.

Look, I’ve had bad kids. I can tell you that two minutes in time-out doesn’t do schnarts as a punishment. They can do that standing on their head. Make some hockey player sit in that box for half an hour. That would be a punishment. Of course, if my children are any indication, it really wouldn’t improve their behavior. But It’s a start.

Makes no financial sense

Many of you may have a similar problem, but I’m warped. I think silly things and rationalize in stupid ways. Take financial advisors for instance. Millions of folks listen to them on radio and television and they don’t help anyone.

First of all, the only calls they take go something like this; “Hi Bob, my dog is going in for her fifth cosmetic surgery and I just don’t know how I’m going to find the money for it.” Bob doesn’t say anything about why a dog would need such a procedure. He never mentions how stupid it is. And he certainly won’t call the guy an idiot, even though he is. No. He asks about their financial background, like this all makes sense.

The guy usually tells Bob, “I make about a hundred fifty thousand a year, and my wife makes a bit more. We live in a million-dollar home with only six domestics. It’s really hard on us because we recently had to let two of them go. I have about six billion in credit-card debt, but the real estate people told us that third pool was sure to be a good investment in the long run. The biggest problem is I just can’t seem to save any money.”

Bob should be laughing in this this guy’s face. That’s what I’d do. This guy can’t manage on five-times the resources most folks have. But Bob has to be peaceful. He says the same thing he says to all the folks who call. Cut up your cards, pay down your debt, and eliminate the half-caf, soy milk, banana lattes with extra foam, and raspberry drizzle. Regular coffee costs a whole bunch less, and is a lot easier to order.

Then the guy on the phones says, “Wow Bob!! I never thought of that. Thank you so much. Pooka will only have to wait a couple of months for her puppy-fat liposuction.” He hangs up, then Bob tells us the importance of paying your bills on time, and trying to save money. No shit Bob! I knew that and never took any economics courses. Let alone having all the degrees you have. The only thing you have that I don’t, is that you wrote a book.

I could write a book, but the problem is it would be too short; Chapter one, Stop Spending Money on Stupid Things, Chapter two, Stop Being a Stupid Idiot. That’s it. Short and sweet. The thing is, I couldn’t get it published because I’m don’t have a doctorate, or any degree for that matter. I’m just the guy who knows how things work.

Sustainable silliness

Another thing that bugs me is all the hype about being sustainable. This is a great idea, but the practitioners of this don’t practice it. Every advertisement my drugstore has, tells me how they’re all about saving the earth. Then when I purchase something, they give me a mile long receipt, on chemically treated paper that’s not recyclable. They do this to give me coupons for my next purchase.

How am I supposed to remember I have these? If I buy aspirin, I don’t need a receipt. So, when I see that spool of paper shooting out at me I have only one thought. How I’m going to throw it away? Sure, there are offers, but I’m never going to keep that much paper in my pocket. Consequently, I’ll never see what’s available. Besides, I can get the same stuff from the circulars they sent me in the mail. More paper!

Media maddness

The biggest question mark about this comes from radio, television, and streaming services. I once watched a movie, and before the show they announced the show was sponsored by some cat psychologist and would have no commercial interruptions. I thought this was great until after the first hour. At that moment, some announcer came on to tell me the show was being presented with no commercial interruptions. After that he came on every fifteen minutes.

You heard right folks. Every fifteen minutes, he interrupted the show to tell me there weren’t going to be any interruptions. Ohh My! How would I have known if he hadn’t told me? I might have watched the whole show never realizing there weren’t any commercials. Not!

Of course, the non-commercial interruptions are never as long as commercial ones. I couldn’t go to the bathroom or nothing. Heck they weren’t even long enough for me to use the cat’s box, and that’s just in the next room. Also, I couldn’t pause the thing, to give me the desired interruptions. Nope, I was inconvenienced enough to get ticked off, and nothing else.

They waited to do all this until I was invested. If this had started at the beginning of the show. I would have been annoyed and shut it off. But No! They waited until I had a vested interest in the characters, and needed to know what was going to happen. Marketing people are so cruel.

It’s a con game

Streaming services do this too. Only, they’re sneakier about it. Every time I turn on the music, they announce, I’m in the middle of a commercial free thirty-minutes. But it’s a lie. I’m never in the middle. I’m always one song away from the very end. They lull me into a false sense of listening pleasure, play one song, then scream, “Sorry Mr. Ohh!, it’s over. To bad for you. Ha, ha, ha!”

I know it’s a con-game. Statistics tells us that I have to hit close to the beginning about half the time. This is math folks. Math never lies. However, liars do use math, so perhaps I shouldn’t say this quite so strongly.

The saddest thing is; My silly warped brain keeps trying to figure all this crap out.

AHHHHH!!!