THE (auto) MOBILE PHONE

Lots of noise has been made as of late as to whether or not it should be illegal to operate a motor vehicle while talking on a cell phone. I do not agree with this move towards banning cell phone use while driving, not because I want to protect people's civil right to talk on cell phones, but because I think it is a waste of time. Speeding is illegal, but it is largely ignored. Plus, the problem is not the phone, but the driver.
As a society, we require the bare minimum of training for our licensed drivers. We let 16 year olds drive around for a couple of months, pass a road test, and then grant them a license for the rest of their lives, hoping that they will get better at driving on their own.
Truckers drive 50,000 pound trucks on our highways at speeds of 100 mph for 12 hours at a time in a cab full of fuzzy dice, girlie pictures, and neon lights while talking on a hand-held CB radio without ending up mowing down regular people enough to warrant as much public outcry as banning cell phones. Why? Because truckers are good drivers. I myself can drive with one hand while opening up a juice-box for my screaming two-year-old while carrying on a heated discussion with my ten-year-old regarding the similarities between Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. Why? Because I am a good driver.
If we ban cell phone use while driving because we are concerned that this may distract drivers than we may as well just go ahead and rip out all the radios and cd players and heat controls and power mirrors and seat controls and make all cars one seaters so that there will be no other distracting humans around and get every driver their own private roads, etc, etc, etc.
You want to ban BLOGGING while driving, I'll consider it.

THE LITTER

We would seem to the casual observer to be in the age of environmentalism. Green technology and renewable energy are the focus of many news stories and fund raisers and such. People are encouraged to reduce, reuse, and recycle. It would seem as though we are living in the age of GREEN. If this is so, then who is doing all the littering.
The term ‘litterbug’ seems to be an anachronism. When I was a kid, we were taught to avoid being litterbug\s, but you don’t hear much about it anymore. We have Green-Up-Day every year where concerned citizens and their children pick up trash and put it in little green bags for later retrieval by the proper authorities. There is much fanfare and awareness raising, but why is the trash getting there in the first place? How can there be enough people so careless and downright evil that they would just throw garbage on the ground? This in the age of green that we live in. Who is doing all the littering? Is it all the work of low-lifes and druggies? So burned out that they do not care that they despoil the very earth on which we all live, or is it just everyday citizens that feel that it is okay to just drop one tiny little piece of trash?
My favorite piece of litter, which I do not intentionally seek out mind you, is the used condom or condom wrapper. Now, before you ask, I have no way of knowing without a more sophisticated laboratory if the condoms are actually used. I am just assuming they were because they are out of the wrapper and all. The fact is, they are there. I have walked the streets in populated areas extensively and I can always locate a condom or condom wrapper within 15 minutes of searching if I were to be challenged. I have not yet been so challenged, but I am always ready to be.
This phenomenon always begins in the spring. I am not sure if this is due to the mild weather making parking lot automobile relations more comfortable, or if the snow melt is revealing the evidence of winter-time relations, but I like to believe it is the former. I would like others to look out for roadside condom evidence and report back please, so that the world does not think that I hallucinate prophylactic litter. Thank you for your concern.

THE COOK

Back to work today. One thing that gets lost in print is the tired way that my mind's voice says those four words. I do not hate my job per se, but it's been rough lately. It gets on my nerves a lot more than it used to. Maybe it's because of giving up the habit I mentioned in the prior blog. Maybe it's because I have an annoying hernia that I'm waiting for a surgical consult on. Maybe I'm just getting old and cranky. Maybe it's just because I'm a cook.
Nobody in their right mind would want to be a cook. I'm not talking chefs here. Lots of people want to be chefs and simply end up as cooks. All cooks are either bad chefs or have really low expectations. There is little money involved, few benefits except for free food, free beer, and a flexible schedule if you are good enough at it. Most civilians(non cooks) will want to refer to you as a cook, anyway, which is really annoying also. The image of a cook in most people's minds is that of Mel from the 'Alice' tv show or school lunch cooks or some anonymous grease covered loser at a diner. All accurate depictions, but people always want to imagine you as less of a loser so they call you 'chef' when introducing you. It's annoying.
Now I am going to compare cooking to being a combination of a combat soldier and an E.R. doctor. I apologize to all the soldiers and E.R. docs out there, but not to anyone else. You don't get a say in the matter. I just cannot imagine any profession that has more discomfort.
First, there's the pain. Burning yourself is a regular event(You will notice cooks in public by all of the burn scars on their forearms. A close inspection differentiates them from junkies). And you cannot simply stop working because you are in pain, oh no, people have to eat a meal that they were to lazy to stay at home and cook for themselves. I know what your thinking, "If it wasn't for all us lazy people, then you wouldn't have a job", but if you think about it, I'm sure I could find another low-paying job that nobody respected out there, don't you think?
Next, there's the annoyance factor. Customers are supremely annoying. They either want there sauce on the side, or their chicken on the side, or their pasta on the side, or their garnish on the side, or their sides on the meal. They want no peas, no parsley, no chicken sub shrimp, no mushrooms, no olives, no green stuff of any kind, no garlic, no butter, or no cheese. They are allergic to garlic, allergic to milk, allergic to shrimp, allergic to basil, allergic to nuts, allergic to oil, allergic to mushrooms, allergic to wheat, allergic to soy, allergic to parsley, allergic to pepper, or allergic to eggs. Sometimes the server comes back and says to be careful because the customer is deathly allergic to something and to make sure that this something is nowhere near their food or they will die. How could this person have survived this long if they put their lives in the hands of people who don't make enough money to pay their rent half the time and are mainly just thinking about how good the beer is going to taste after work?
Unfortunately, customers are stupid. Cooks are not stupid. They are simply very unsuccessful and have no plans for their future. That said, cooking is really fun! You get to use foul language and listen to raunchy loud music, I already mentioned the free beer, and other cooks treat you like a god if you're good.
It's the days when the kitchen falls apart that suck.
I will probably miss cooking someday, when I get to leave it, hopefully before I actually die in a kitchen. That would be embarrassing.

THE HABIT

It' been a crazy year so far. Last August I finally quit a disgusting habit that I had for 13 years or so. Unfortunately, I cannot share this with a lot of people I know as my 10-year-old never knew about it. Nor do I want him to know. I would be afraid that he would do it someday 'just because the old man did'. I feel that this is for the best though it does get lonely.
I do not have any friends with this particular habit, so there is very little support in my day to day life. Most people I work with know that I stopped, but they do not really understand the depth of it. Most of them are younger and some even partake of this habit when they are out partying, still at that stage where they do not need to do it every day. Ah, I remember those days.
Those days were long over for me, however. I had a regiment that had to be adhered to if I were to remain normal. Two in the morning after taking my son to school, three after lunch when my wife got home, five on the way to work, one after three hours of work, one after two more hours, one at the end of work, and five on the way home. Just two shy of twenty would get me through the day. More were involved when I was taking classes at the community college, because everyone did it, it's like a rule or something.
This wonderful little pill that they sell helped me stop. It actually blocks the stuff from getting into your brain. An awesome drug as drugs go, they should put it in the water supply!
I still don't quite feel right. I sometimes fear that the really fun me is gone. I have a temper now. Things never used to bother me as much before. I knew I could always just take a walk with my pack of little friends and everything would be fine again. Maybe though it is time to start letting things bother me. Maybe I need things to bother me.
I used to believe that this was just like any other vice and that it was my choice to do it or not and that making it illegal would infringe upon my rights. I was wrong. My choice was taken away from me as soon as enough of it got into my system. Luckily, at the mere cost of ten percent of my paycheck each week, there was a government-sanction dealer on every corner.
I never want to engage in this habit again, but I still miss it. I can smell it on many a street corner, and it's as sweet as a spring breeze.
It should be banned.

THE INVENTIONS

The following is a posting of just a few of my invention ideas. I once looked into aquiring a patent for some of them but the costs are outrageous! If you have money and decide to market any of these ideas, good karma could be yours by tossing me a couple thousand dollars now and again. I've always dreamed of being a thousandaire!

an alarm clock that fits directly in your ear so as not to wake your bed partner.
a pizza box with paper plates that punch out from the top of the box.
an Online Cemetary.
ice cream that pours out like cereal.
processed cheese slices with cute cartoon pictures on them.
milk that is already flavored like your favorite cereal.
pan handles that change color to let you know that they are hot.
swiffer slippers that clean your floor as you walk.
individually wrapped peanut butter and jelly slices.
boots with scouring pads on the bottom for scrubbing your floor.

enjoy

THE WHAT WILL YOU FIND IN MY BRAIN?

What will you find in my brain besides hastily posted drivel? I do not know at this point but we shall see. Perhaps earthshaking new invention ideas like a PIZZA BOX with punch-out paper plates or a house heated with COMPOST. Aliens, magic, time travel, movie reviews, religion, gardening and parenting are all free game so clear your calendar, it might get messy in here!

THE WELCOME

Welcone to the first Dwayne' Brain post. I did not intend to begin a blog today but my computer told me that I had to and who am i to agrue. This was not originally my idea. I saw the episode of "The Office" that featured Creed Bratton's fake blog and was talking about it at work. A co-worker (lets call him Colin because that's his real name) suggested that I start a blog. Here goes!