Fido, Your Leash Is Too Long

I'm conflicted.

In the course of my travels in the past few weeks, I have come in contact with not one but two really good guys. On the one hand, these guys are dependable companions, eager to see me and offer support. On the other hand, they're needy and require lots of attention.

But they're lovable, and they both really seem to dig me.

And deep down, I know they're really dogs.

No, really, they are. One is a golden retriever and the other is a Cavalier King Charles. They will sit when you tell them to, and unlike the dog I had growing up, they won't shit in the house.

The conflict is not whether to take these dogs, as these dogs are already taken. Neigh, the conflict is whether I should look into one for myself. Not in the immediate future, but in the future at all. I live alone, work odd hours, and can be away from home for long periods of time. Those three facts are not subject to change any time soon, and I don't want any dog to suffer because I'm a Susan Smith of a parent.

I'm in no position to have that kind of responsibility. I have a fish, and feeding him is a chore. But I guess a dog can remind you when he's hungry. That fish never comes into the main room to let me know he's here. And if he whimpers at all, I can't hear him.

But consider what these dogs can do:
*Roll over!
*Play dead!
*Shake your hand!

Granted, they'd probably do that if you didn't feed them. Or if you gave them lots of sugar.

But aren't those tricks cool? The neighborhood hobos can't even do those things. Dogs 1, bums zilch.

Survey question
What should I name my non-existent dog?

So far, I like:
*Axl
*Lusty
*Chow Mein
*The Enforcer
*Client Number Nine

Two Characters In Search of a Country Song

The VFW near me has karaoke on Wednesdays and Fridays, and on some other special occasions. The crowd is very specific in its tastes; you'll hear either country or western, and if you're looking for Hank Williams Jr., that's probably too new of a selection. And probably too cheery.

Fortunately, the people who run the karaoke don't mind if you bring your own CDs. I don't have any, but my friend has a verifiable shitload. I've attempted "Bust A Move" and J. Geils' "Centerfold," but my main anthem on these nights is "Keep on Lovin' You."

For the regulars, though, the artists of choice are Loretta Lynn, George Strait and Tammy Wynette. They sometimes sing love songs, if we're lucky, but even those renditions sound like funeral hymns. The more common serenades involve tales of loved ones dying, husbands cheating, women coming to terms with domestic abuse and people wanting to die.

After a few outings to said karaoke nights, I've determined there aren't topics off limits for country songs, but rather topics that just haven't been written into a country song yet. After a pitcher of Bud Light (the "good stuff" in a joint like this), I ended up brainstorming some ideas that would be great fodder for a slow ballad to be sung with a twang and a lonely guitar:

*Fetal alcohol syndrome
*Cerebral palsy
*Incontinence
*"Burning dinner"
*Wheelchair fights
*KFC going zero trans fat
*Mexican workers
*Apartheid
*"Walking into it"
*Hassles at the DMV
*Finding a couch
*Mike Huckabee

I think there were a few dozen more on the list, and they seemed way funnier when I wrote them down, as I had a good buzz going. But there are so many patriotic songs post-9/11 that it would not surprise me if there were songs about Terri Schiavo. I know, I know, Bruce Springsteen had a whole album post-9/11, but he didn't sing about delivering an ass-kicking courtesy of the red, white and blue. And if he did write a song about Schiavo, he'd probably make it some introspective tune about the orderly who had to change her bed pan. Or maybe not, I'm no poet.

Making Maps of an Unseen Plane

In the last two weeks, I've been in my apartment maybe four or five days. A schedule of travel puts me even more behind in my blogging. I like traveling, but I don't like being behind. Or fatigued.

People-watching in airports is probably one of the more unique brands of the sport because of the variety. People will be boarding flights for job interviews, funerals, weddings, vacations, tournaments, college visits, conventions, whatever. Hospitals, however, don't have the same range of emotions. If you're in a hospital, you're probably worried about someone. Even if you're waiting for someone to give birth, you're probably hoping and praying that the mom and baby make it through alive. Which is good, because otherwise you'd be a heartless bastard. Malls don't have much of a range, either, because most of the people there are bored.

My only quibble, and it's not even a quibble so much as an observation, is this: I don't think I have ever seen a fight at an airport. At bars, dance clubs and junior high schools, I have witnessed some great hair-pulling and spitting, but airports have left me without the satisfaction of chanting "Oooh!" or "You get her!" I imagine that TSA has created an atmosphere in which no one wants to try that, and one in which no one could try that.

A fight before my Phoenix flight might have had the people sitting next to me on edge enough that they wouldn't have been so talkative. Now, I'm a talker myself, but I also can take a hint. If I'm chatting you up and I can tell you'd rather be eaten by fire ants, I move along until the next person lets me know she'd rather be eaten by fire ants, too. But on a plane, you can't leave.

I know of someone who keeps the Book of Mormon with her when flying. When the people sitting next to her won't take the hint that she's not in the mood to chat, she pulls out the book and asks, "Have you heard of the prophet Joseph Smith?"

That usually shuts them up and she gets her peace.

Survey question
In which vessel would you prefer to fly: the Millennium Falcon, the USS Enterprise or the Winnebago from "Spaceballs"?

I'm going to say the Enterprise, simply because it has a bar and you can walk around inside it pretty freely.

I Think I Need A New Heart

My nephew called my mom to tell her he's raising money for heart disease awareness through some program at his school. He told my mom he's been calling "various family members" but she figured that when I didn't get the call, he must have meant "grandparents."

Turns out I didn't get the call because my sister took the phone away from him. Not only because he's been calling everyone in her phone, but also because he sets a new ring tone every day and my sister doesn't recognize her phone when it rings. Similarly, my brother set my mom's ring tone as "Whoop! There It Is." I love calling her when she's in the grocery store and she's forgotten to turn her phone on silent.

Apparently, my nephew hasn't even brought any paperwork home about this program. So I told my sister that I'd donate only when she has seen the documents and can prove that it's legit. I want to make sure I'm funding something reputable. Bum tickers? Yes. Whoopie cushions and Starburts? No.

And the real kicker is that there's a prize for getting the most donations: a lunch box with a radio inside and $300. Which is a little much for third-graders. I work for a living. Where's my radio and $300?

So now I have to donate. The idea of some other kid getting that just breaks my heart.

Take Ecstasy With Me

Valerie Bertinelli recently announced that she cheated and used drugs when married to Eddie Van Halen.

I can't think of anything to type. What's I'm finding the most hilarious about this is that it's only getting mild attention, and that's the way it should be. What the real nut of this story is that she thinks it would be news, or that 20 years later, we'd give a shit.

A former child actress married to a rock star for one of the most popular bands of the 1980s used drugs and cheated.

Let's boil this down:
*Child actress
*Rock band
*1980s
*Last role was....?

You bet your ass she's done drugs. The real story would be if she hadn't done drugs. That this is even a story at all makes me think I need some drugs.

Survey question
Van Halen: David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar?