12 years, 3 months and 10 days

12 years, 3 months and 10 days.

That's a long time.

That's a decent run.

That's how long I've had my cat Wilshire. Unfortunately, that's all the time I will get with him. Like all creatures, his time has come, and unfortunately for me that time is today. And probably for his sake none too soon. Illness has robbed him of his weight, his size, his balance and surprising agility for being such a large cat and even here at the end his unnaturally loud purr. But it never robbed him of his spunk, his loud meow, his dignity and his love for me.

Wilshire came into my life by fortuitous happenstance. He needed a, what was to be temporary, place to stay. I, being unemployed at the time, had the time and space to help out a vagabond cat. And as times were rough at that point in my life for more than a few reasons, I figured having an animal around, for even just two months, would be a good thing. After a rough, but comical, start, it was one of the greatest things to happen to me.

To say our first day together was a disaster would be an understatement. I found out the hard way Wilshire does not like to travel in cars, as he yelled at me from Santa Monica to Studio City. He also managed to poop in his carrier in his upset frame of mind, which then found its way all around my apartment. I made the mistake of opening his carrier outside the bathroom. A mistake, thankfully, I never made again whenever he needed to travel. Following a Three Stooges style chase scene, he was locked, clawing and screaming, into the bathroom while I cleaned the house. Then came the fun of cleaning him, which should be a chore reserved as an event for the World's Strongest Man competition. You thought he hated traveling? He hated baths more. I still have a small scar on my shoulder from an attempted bath escape to prove it.

By the time he was bathed, the house cleaned, his box, food and scratching post all set up, I was exhausted, he was still ticked, and I was wondering how the next two months were ever going to work. A thought that took on new meaning when I discovered Wilshire was the first animal to whom I was allergic. Wilshire's presence caused me to break out in my first ever case of hives. This event almost meant his staying in a kennel until his former owner returned. Luckily for both Wilshire and I, that never happened. I sucked it up and figured I'll just do my best to give him a good home while I had him. Even luckier, his former owner never returned to claim him. Whether I was ready or not, Wilshire became my cat. What proceeded were 12 wonderful years.

After we got to know each other, best buds we became. A large domestic long hair, black and white in coloring with big green eyes, a bit of a weight problem and awesome Sylvester the Cat style facial tufts, I loved that he was so big, handsome and furry. In short order, I affectionately began calling him Fat, a nickname that has stuck to this day. Wilshire and I got along swimmingly, and in some ways he was like a dog. He would come when I called him. He would sleep on the bed with me. He was always waiting by the door when I got home; he had learned the sound of my truck at the time. He would watch me out the windows. He loved to lay on my chest and rub his face on my chin. I called those giving kisses. And being the big cat he was, he was constantly hungry and would wake me up when he wanted food. And by wake up, I mean he would ram his head into my side until I woke up. I swear I didn't make that part up. He really did that. 

All of that is odd for a typical cat, but Wilshire was never typical, at least with me. He purred like a motor boat and ate like a horse. He would balance his robust frame on the smallest of surfaces. He played greeter to visitors. Well, he did in his younger dog free years only. And he did like dogs. Ok, one dog. When my wife and I moved in together, he was forced to meet his first dog, our former golden retriever Logan. While Wilshire was none too happy to have to now share me, and the bed for that matter, for some reason, Wilshire tolerated that big galoot of a dog. Heck the two of them would lie together on Logan’s dog bed and nap. Our dogs now, well, they don't understand who or what Wilshire is, and they get overly enthusiastic when he's around. I've been worried for the last couple of years they'd knock him over trying to play with him, so we've tried to keep them separated. It hasn't always worked, mostly to the detriment of Wilshire's food or kitchen doors, but we've tried.

But Wilshire was at his best when he would unleash his glare. Everyone loves Grumpy Cat, but Wilshire had that routine down pat years ago and had advanced to "I'll rip your heart out and eat it in front of you" Cat. He had a withering stare he could level at someone he didn't feel worthy, and did often. And that included me from time to time. Well, until I fed him, or picked him up and propped him on my chest. Then the look would soften to "I guess you're ok, for the moment" and the purring would commence.

As is natural with any bond, we've had our ups and downs. The time moving from California when I thought I lost him the day before we were to leave. I had a panic thinking he'd run out the open front door. Turns out he had just crawled under a sink to escape the sound of construction going on downstairs. The nightmarish baths, the occasional health scare, the yelling at me when I would come home because the dog ate his food. I tried to explain I ran out of ideas to keep the dog out of the upstairs, but Wilshire would hear none of it. So I would yell back at him. His response? Stick his nose up in the air and walk away. Even when I yelled, he still won the argument. 

Of course, I cannot neglect his decline over the past 6 months; a decline I was both unable and unwilling to fully notice or process. Even now, looking at him I see two cats. What he has become, and who he once was, which has made this time even more difficult. It’s funny how the mind can be both logical and irrational in the same moment. When I look at him now, tired, haggard, eyes dimmed with age and so frail, I knew his time had come. But my mind still sees the big, boisterous, loud, brash, bright eyed and literally bushy tailed cat who has been with me for the majority of my adult life. I just didn't really want to see how far he had gone from being that big boisterous cat I once knew. And I still don’t.

And finally today, as I watched him go from my life.

Luckily the ups far outweighed the downs. His saucy personality, his proud saunter as he would stride into a room, his love of catnip, his fascination with the fish tank experiment. His rare and exciting attempts at chasing an animal outside. I'll still never forget him plowing through the locked screen door to chase an opossum. I still have no idea what got into him that day or how he managed to squeeze through that door without destroying the door, popping the latch or hurting himself. The precision movements and haste needed to drive him anywhere. I recall vividly the day I moved him from our first place together to a new apartment only two miles away. With him screaming from his carrier in the back seat, I drove as a man on a mission, and that mission was to get there before he pooped himself. In case you are wondering I did succeed. That time.

I loved how he would sit on our luggage before a trip in protest. And then conversely, how he would yell at me for hours, yes hours, upon our return informing me in no uncertain terms that vacation was unacceptable. And then after he had his fill telling me off, he'd be all over me. How if I moved my hand like a gripping claw, he would run over and leap into my lap ready for pets and behind the ear scratches. He loved that signal, and did until the end. His leap had turned into a slow climb, but he was still game for a good scratch behind the ear. 

Even the last week has been wonderful, if bittersweet. He has been amazingly social and affectionate during this time. The last 24 hours have been the best. As we did in our youth, we stayed up late last night listening to music while I sang off key to him. As in the past, he did not approve, but it felt wonderful nonetheless. Afterwards, I set up an air mattress in our spare room, so he could claim his rightful spot on the bed with me, one last time. It was a special evening and one I will cherish until I pass from this mortal coil.

This last week has been as though he knew his message finally got through to me. He finally knew I heard him tell me it’s time and his reward to me has been a flashback to better days. Seemingly since the moment we realized his time had come, in some ways he has rallied to be his old self one last time. Without hyperbole it has been a final blessing I will never forget. 

But these final tales of Wilshire are merely a drop in the bucket that is the story of his life. His adventures have spanned far and wide, and some of his greatest moments have become legendary. I could write for days of all the good times, and one day I may. I know for a long while to come, I will think of them often, and remember my wonderful friend. 

Unfortunately, his passing also reminds me that life marches on, and too often we don't notice how fast time goes by. I was 27 when Wilshire became a part of my life. I lived in California and was single living in a crappy one bedroom apartment. Now I'm 40, living across the country with a wonderful wife, two dogs and our own home. So many changes have happened since first he came through my door. And I know change is part of life. But it amazes me how much has happened in that time. It makes me in some ways nostalgic for those past times, when both of us were younger and less concerned of the worries of the world. I wonder what happened to the time.

But nostalgia tends to have funny ways of corrupting memory. I know I have a wonderful life right now, in most ways far better than it was years ago. And I know there are many more wonderful things possible in my future. I guess what makes me sad right now is that I know my story will continue on, but the chapter that includes my fuzzy little friend has now come to an end.

I've only bonded with one other animal in my life as deeply as I did with Wilshire, and that is with my current dog Tucker. I wonder sometimes if I was able to bond with Tucker because of all I learned bonding with Wilshire. I like to think that's the case. Because, to me, that means his memory and legacy will live on in one more tangible way.

He came into my life needing a home. But I found out I needed him far more than he ever needed me. Having him in my life turned around a great many things for me. And his love and companionship helped me through a few rough patches in my life. There is no way to truly thank him for all he has provided me.

So now I say goodbye to a wonderful friend and companion. Wilshire, you have made the last 12 years far more entertaining and wonderful than you realize, and far more special than I have yet to know. I love you dearly, more than you know and more than I realize. As I promised you years ago, I did my best to give you a good home. I hope by your exacting standards, I did a good job. I look forward to seeing you again one day, back in your robust, purring Fat glory. Until then, we will miss you. And please say hi to Logan for us; we miss him too.

12 years, 3 months and 10 days.

That's a short time.

That's an epic run.

Dangerous Game

As a society and a people, we play a dangerous game when we refuse to listen to opinions and beliefs contrary to our own.

When we do that, we insulate ourselves from new ideas, new thoughts and most importantly, an understanding of those with opposite viewpoints on important issues.

The only way true progress can be made is through knowledge, understanding and compromise made to benefit the common good.

Otherwise, the entire political process is reduced to nothing more than a competition pitting one set of beliefs against another; no forward progress is achieved and the only tangible results are hurt feelings, broken relationships and a power structure that remains in place, pleased to have pit the populace against itself and remaining ignorant as they continue to accumulate more power and wealth. According to our Constitution, we live in a democracy governed by the people who holds the power to monitor and keep our elected officials in check and working for our benefit.

Unfortunately, for too long now we've been so focused on squabbling with other over our different beliefs instead of listening and learning from each other, all we've done is played into the hands of those in power, keeping ourselves distracted from larger issues and problems which is exactly what they want. They want to keep us focused on berating each other for thinking and believing differently because it takes the focus of our intellect and common sense off of them. We spend our energy ripping each other apart instead of questioning and taking part in our own governance.

It's long overdue we stop bickering with each other and turn our attention toward those we've elected and demand better representation and some intelligent, well reasoned and common sense laden legislature. We as a people need to take a more active role in how our country is run and how our elected leaders represent us. We need to command our leaders to stop the infighting, end the partisan politics and discontinue the business as usual approach of backslapping each other while they short sightedly line their own pockets as they ignore the future ramifications of their selfish decisions. We need to demand they start governing for the good of everyone, not just an elite few.

But the only way any of this will ever happen is if we, as a people, stop attacking each other and get involved in our own country in a positive, well reasoned fashion. Because if we're too busy fighting ourselves, who is left to watch those holding office and making decisions that affect our lives?

The Paradox of Social Media

Why is it the more I use social media the more disconnected I feel?

I've read the articles, and I've bought into the premise despite my initial resistance. Social media supposedly allows you to keep in contact with those close to you despite the inconvenience of distance and time. No matter where you are or how far away you are from those you care about, you can remain in contact and stay close. Well I know I'm not the first one to say this, but I am joining the growing din of those who call bullshit.

I don't feel as close to my friends as I used to feel. Yes, I know, time, distance and changing responsibilities always affect life, but this is different. Social media claims to bridge those gaps, or at least it should according to those who worship at the alter of Facebook, Twitter, Get Glue and the many other avenues offered. In fact, despite these claims I feel further separated from society than ever. And increasingly it makes me sad.

Social media has made us egocentric and lazy. We post on these outlets our thoughts and jokes, ideas and commentary on modern life. If we were with those we care about, it would spawn at minimum laughs or groans, or at best commentary and interesting discussion. Now, if we're lucky it elicits nothing more than a few like comments. Don't get me wrong, I'm not shouting from my soapbox as some pure pilgrim. I'm not immune, I admit that. More often than not I've seen something from a friend and lazily hit the like button instead of joining into the fray or trying to engage them in meaningful conversation. I'm as much as fault for falling into the trap as anyone. If anything, I'm at the core of the problem I find so isolating. But laziness is but one part of the issue.

Social media brings our egos into play in new and disturbing plays. We place way too much stock in the response to our seemingly witty posts and commentary. If we don't get enough friends to like or comment on our posts, it seems as though we're not liked enough, or not good enough to amuse, entertain or interest our friends. This thought process has no correlation in the real world, since life moves so terribly fast now that people barely have time to even hit a like button let alone process a comment and craft a reply. Yet we tie imagined emotions into these posts, and it feels alienating when others we feel close to do not respond in a way we imagined.

Or worse, those same people we hold dear do not respond at all. I wonder sometimes if I am offending a friend if I do not respond to something they felt strongly enough about to comment upon or just hit the like button. Does this make them mad, angry, upset or sad? And by thinking this, what does that thought process say about me? How important do I feel I am or what position do I put myself into in the hierarchy of their lives that I should wonder if my sheer presence, or lack thereof, will affect their day? That entire thought process sounds like that of a maladjusted egomaniac. I don't want to feel that way. Why should I feel I'm so important that my snarky comments would make or break someone's day? And in that vein, how pathetic am I that someone else's comments, or lack thereof, could weigh so heavily enough to make or break my day?

That thought process itself has many regressing to levels equivalent to still emotionally maturing teenagers in junior high. After navigating childhood, grade school, adolescence, high school and the first fumbling, learning years of adulthood, we now find ourselves once again trapped in a world of who likes who the most and who is talking bad about someone, or who is freezing out someone because they said something bad. I had hoped we passed this behavior by long ago.

Worse still, it has made us lazy and negligent in actual communication. How often have you sat around and thought, I haven't called Joe in a while, I wonder how he's doing? Then just checked his latest posts to social media, caught up on the minutiae of his day to day life, and figured, oh, I got it, cool. No call, no personal communication, no growth.

I'm not sure how to change this, but I know I want off this merry go round. Thus far I am hesitant to give up my social media connections because at minimum I have some contact with friends and family far and wide, which allows me to at least be a tiny part of their lives, and them a part of mine, even if it's on the periphery of reality. And even better, it has allowed me to reconnect with family and friends I had long ago lost contact with. That has been a wonderful part of the social media experience and one I always think often.

But the experience no longer feels real, natural or satisfying. I don't want to become a person so desperate for outside validation for my stale sense of humor or lame commentary on modern life. Nor do I want to find out important milestones in the lives of my friends and family based upon what they feel is worthy enough to post. I want to create real relationships, friendships and meaningful conversation. But can we even go back to such a time now? Is it too late?

Perhaps I'm selfish, ego-maniacal or just sad and growing older with dwindling friends to relate to and no children to raise, which may raise more questions than answers, I'm not sure. Or maybe I'm just not as emotionally mature as I once thought I was and am not ready to handle this medium. Or even still, perhaps the technological world has now passed me by, and I am just becoming socially obsolete. None of these are easy questions with quick, pat answers.  But I know I no longer want to feel this way. I don't want to feel like I only matter when people have a few minutes between work assignments, or when they have a moment between household chores. And I no longer want to feel like I'm marginalizing my friends to fit into a few convenient moments of my time either. I want to give them the attention and focus they deserve if they have grown close enough to call me their friend.

I want friendships, relationships and meaningful, interesting conversation again. I no longer want a numerical tally I call a friend list or do I want to feel sad because I feel treasured relationships slipping away one You Tube link at a time. I believe I'm not the only one and hope that my phone will one day ring again with those who agree with me.  And once again I'll dust off my own telephone keypad to dial the phone numbers of those same friends and we can laugh and joke and reinforce the bonds of friendship we formed long ago, with the personal connection of hearing or even if lucky seeing each other. Of course if you are too busy, just hit the like button. I could use the hits to rise upward in today's trending topics.

Random Observations VII No Witty Subtitle

Yes, I know what you’re thinking, “Didn’t we just have one of these?” You would be very correct. But I have so many odd stories I’ve found recently, and in the past year plus, coupled with an overwhelming deluge of random thoughts running through my bean that I need to shuffle them out. Sometimes I think my head feels funky because of the backlog. So let’s clear the baffles and take a gander at our weird, wonderful planet. As always, this is your world.


Let’s kick it off with this little gem I found a while ago. The second I saw it one thought ran through my mind. No wonder I don’t like going to work.


Ok, my cat sometimes acts like a nut job too, going on tears through the house or screaming at the top of the steps. Someone explain to this Cro-Magnon man that if you want to calm the cat, feed it and it will do what cats do naturally. Go take a nap. I’d ask why he thought this would be a good idea, but I think it’s rather obvious. Stay in school kids.


Is it just me, or does anyone else out there want to punch Justin Case in the face? He just seems so smug.


Did I miss a memo? Since when did sex stop selling no matter the product?


The perpetrators in this story get high marks for originality; I mean who thinks of forcing someone to eat his own beard? Was that a deleted scene from Se7en? But they lost all credibility and belong in the slammer not for assault, but for stupidity. Who pays $250 for a used lawnmower? I’ve been to Lowe’s, you can buy a new one for less.


I do feel bad for the guy who had to eat his own beard though. It will severely impact his registration for Beard Team USA. Come on, you know you want to see the Rollie Fingers mustache make a comeback.


Another blast from the past I could not pass up. I know some directors want realism in their films, but this seems to be a bit much. If this had happened on a Michael Bay movie, the guy probably would have turned himself in.


I wonder what my skull looks like, especially since when the time comes when it will be accessible, I will be decidedly unable to see it. And no, x-rays do not count. Does anyone else think about this?


As if my illogical distain for Beantown was not fuelled enough by their NFL team, I find this odd article. Something tells me Norm and Cliff never had to reserve their seats.


For those readers who, well, like to read, here’s a fascinating link. Be prepared to lose a few hours perusing through the articles. It can become addictive quite fast.


Are you planning on going to the London Olympics? Then feel good you will be able to interact with a multitude of cultures without setting off an international incident.


I still don’t care what the astronomy community says; Pluto will always be a planet to me. I’m with ya distant little buddy!


To paraphrase a classic movie speech: Imagine you're a deer. You're prancing around. You get thirsty. You spot a little brook. You put your little deer lips down to the cool, clear water - BAM. A fuckin' bullet rips off part of your head. Your brains are lying on the ground in little bloody pieces. Now I ask you, do you give a fuck what kind of ammunition the son-of-a-bitch who shot you was using?


Hey, I recycle more than most, averaging a big bag of recycling every week. I work to reuse things until they can be used no more. I turn off lights in rooms no one is in and reuse the same glass as to not dirty new ones and create more dishes. But I draw the line at hot showers on cold mornings. I’ll give those up as soon as big wig environmentalists stop traveling to environmental events in private planes, which are a much bigger problem than me taking an extra few minutes to wake up in the morning.


This still cracks me up. I wonder if she were referring to talking to him like he was the idiot boy hired for odd jobs around the house. Will she ever stop pimping those kids?


Call me old fashioned, but I will always hold dear to email, despite what Facebook says. These new fangled kids with their texting and their twitting, bah humbug I says!


Why am I hearing the Magnum P.I. theme on a mascara commercial? Why does it feel so very wrong?


I loved this story earlier this year. It’s just an amazing tale of survival, determination and the will of the human spirit. But knowing our world, I must say I’m surprised Coleman has not come out with a new survival cooler.


Has anyone seen Sarah Palin’s Alaska? I have not, but I love how she claims in the ads she’d rather be out there in Alaska than in some stuffy political office. Yet even as she says that, she is also talking about a potential presidential run in 2012. And now she has a new book out where she blasts American Idol and their untalented contestants, as her untalented daughter clodhops on Dancing With The Stars. Yeesh, why do I know about these people and their lives?


You know what; there is a satisfaction that comes from doing something for yourself. I think we've forgotten that in our society.


A Star Wars comedy show with Seth Green prominently involved? Hey count me on board, I still laugh at the special Robot Chicken Star Wars episodes. But I think this writer is nuts. If he thinks this is the worst Star Wars related media idea, obviously he does not remember the Star Wars Holiday Special very well.


I think this is the final proof needed to track the entomology of the phrase, “busy as a beaver.” Move over, Great Wall of China!


This is sad, and a definite end of an era in television and film production. I watching television shows that said Filmed in Technicolor. Boy the world surely does move on from the past faster now.


I would like to bring up a small linguistic point that has been bugging me for some time. The slang for refrigerator is f-r-i-d-g-e and not f-r-i-g. Frig is a slang curse word and when you use it, you could completely change the meaning of your message in very odd ways. Just tryin’ to help.


Here’s another oldie, but too good to pass up. I know I’ve had a few bad drive thru orders in the past, but calling 911? Do we need to sit people down and explain once again that 911 is for actual emergencies and not perceived ones?


Tron Legacy? Really? Who was clamoring for this film other than this guy?


And finally, I leave you with this piece of advice. The first rule of lady fight club is you do not tell the cops about lady fight club. My one question from this article is why did she want them to fight? It makes my head hurt.

Lost In Time

I saw this recent article about Willow Smith, the nine year old with the hot new song. To say I had zero surprise this was the offspring of uber celebrities Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith would be an understatement. Celebrity children tend to follow their parents into the family business. But it bothered me that she is doing it at such a young age.

I kept thinking as I read the article, what kind of childhood is this for a little girl? She should be playing with Barbie dolls, not laying down vocal tracks. She shouldn’t be doing the talk show circuit, but playing dress up with friends. Where are all the moments she’ll remember fondly when she has kids of her own, like tea parties or story time, getting to stay up late for the first time or even sleeping in? Her memories will be of celebrity parties, and she’ll have to stay up late and stories will be about sleazy agents and demanding record companies. That’s no way for a child to grow up.

But the more I thought about it, the more I reminded myself that everyone has different experiences in life, and those experiences make us unique and interesting to others. And since she is growing up in a very different environment than I did, perhaps this is normal for her. Normal, after all, is a very relative term when it comes to life experiences.

But as I pondered how different life experiences shape us, and started mentally strolling through some of mine, I hit upon a stunning revelation, at least for me. The article did not have an impact on me because I had a real issue regarding her supposed lost childhood. It struck me because I found myself missing my own.

The thoughts of childhood and those fumbling teenage years brought back many a warm memory. Sure, more than a few embarrassing, awkward or sad ones filtered in as well. But mostly I felt myself feeling warm and happy, reliving past joys, fun experiences and laughing at myself through the panes of time as I saw the fumbling mistakes only one of youth and inexperience can make.

And as I reveled in those warm memories, something dawned on me. I finally began to understand why and how people get stuck in the past. It’s not that they do not like, or understand, society as it stands today. But rather the things of the past, such as music, television, movies, technology or a variety of other things act as physical markers in time to help transport them back to times filled with innocence, joy, discovery and happiness before the realities of the world dulled everything.

As an example, growing up I could never understand why my parents loved to listen to just, well what was considered at the time, oldies music. Now mind you, thanks to their love of classic rock and roll and pop, I developed a great taste for those tunes, and a better appreciation of all kinds of different musical genres. But to just listen to that music seemed odd to me. In my opinion, there were all kinds of good music coming out every day, and many other great songs, artists and albums that came out long after the music of their choice. I chalked it up to them just being stuck in the past, and I vowed to never let that happen to me.

But my realization showed me my parents weren’t stuck in the past, well maybe a little bit, and it’s not that they did not like any current music. But that music was part of their formative years as young adults. It helped convey them to a time in their lives they felt strongly about, and made them feel good. It is a marker to memories of their lives.

I know, how it took me this many years to figure out such a simple truth to the human experience is beyond me as well. But perhaps I just needed to gain some knowledge and wisdom of having a few years under my own belt for it to truly dawn on me. To have other markers transport me back as well and realize I am doing the same thing I vowed never to do.

Now, mind you I still listen to some current music. But not with anything approaching the voracity I once did. And more often than not, I tend to gravitate toward songs and artists that I once had high on the play lists of my youth or ones nowadays that remind me of favorites from the past. And if truth be told, I do not listen to music everyday like I once did. I love my Ipod, but I mostly use it when I’m doing outdoor lawn grooming.

And see, that statement sums it up. I fully embrace modern society but still cherish and relish those past markers that mean so much to me. Often I wish I had an Ipod when I listened to music constantly. But instead I had a string of Walkmans, ever present on my person. When I recently heard Sony is no longer making the product, I felt a bit nostalgic and sad. Thinking of Walkmans made me think of running to class in college, tunes blasting loud enough to shake loose mortar, or rocking out doing homework in high school during a break from my fast food job. It was a marker in time for me, and clearly brought into focus memories from my past.

As people get older they do not eschew current fads, trends, music and the latest and greatest because they do not like it. They do it because time is no longer a luxury. Commitments, responsibilities, career and family take the place of those once dearly held things. And no matter how good a song is, or how moving a movie may be, none will have the same emotional impact upon you as one that you heard or saw during that fresh time in your life when you were first discovering the world and growing up. It’s why we hold those things dear, and how we get “stuck in the past.”

Like most people today, I enjoy the modern conveniences our world has to offer. I love being able to check the weather, read email and look up information on the fly all from my Smartphone. And how amazing is it to watch anything on an HD television, with such clarity of picture and graphics and animation one never thought possible? But I miss the simple pleasure of tuning into one of the three big stations early in the morning, huddling around to see if I would get a free snow day as the crude graphics scrolled on the bottom of the screen or hanging around the kitchen to talk to friends on the wall mounted rotary phone. Ha, it was a big deal when we got a button phone, now my phone is a touch screen. Although, I have found that I am not the only one with a nostalgic feeling toward telephones, or with a love for modern technology.

As technology, and the world at large, moves forward and bigger and more fantastical things come into our lives, more of what was once so important to me and I held dear moves further into the past. This is not a mind blowing revelation, as it has happened to every creature that has walked the earth since the dawn of time. But for me, now I understand better why people hold onto the past.

There is comfort there, things make a little more sense, you see the mistakes you once made and the triumphs that made you feel on top of the world. Who you once were is there, young, idealistic and hopeful. It’s sweet and innocent and tinted just the right shade of rose so everything looks fantastic.

Perhaps the approaching holidays make me nostalgic, or perhaps I’m just a bit tired of fighting just to get by. But I wouldn’t mind spending a few days back when all I had to worry about is whether my galoshes would survive another sledding season, and not that I need to take the trash out before going to work.

The Best Rewatchable Cable Movies

It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon. You find yourself procrastinating on chores, not in the mood to read, and really not compelled to go out and adventure. So what do you do with yourself? Why not scan the cable channels for 2 hours of cinematic entertainment?

Cable regularly fills time by rerunning some of Hollywood’s greatest, and not so great, cinematic treasures. But how do you choose? Do you pick a classic film from the golden age of Hollywood? Perhaps you choose a stout drama full of Oscar worthy performances? Or maybe even a lighthearted comedy that looked whimsical when it first hit theaters? All good choices, but usually most of us just tune in something we’ve already seen a dozen times.

Why? Perhaps it’s the comfort of a movie we’ve already seen, or maybe even a story we connect with. But I believe it’s because it’s a good, cheesy fun flick that allows us to turn off the synaptic relays and revel in the fun.

So what defines a good rewatchable movie? What key elements go into 2 plus hours of edited for television fun? Luckily for you, the reader, I, the viewer, have logged more than a few lazy afternoons scrolling through the on screen guide looking for theatrical jackpots. I’ve determined a few key criteria and ranked the best of the most frequently replayed flicks to help you decide for the next time nothing but a movie will do.

A. – Cheese Factor:

How cheesy is this movie? Just like a good block of Gouda, the more the better. Do you find yourself howling at the improbability of the story or perhaps the action? Is the dialogue unintentionally hilarious? Is the casting all wrong? Bingo, you found a winner.

B. – Supporting Cast:

Ok, obviously we tune into these oft viewed theatrical pleasures because they usually are helmed by A list stars. But what about everyone else? Does it have one guy who just steals every scene by cracking everyone up? Does it have a saucy dame who draws the spotlight toward her? If so, it sounds like gold to me.

C. – Hey it’s that guy/gal!:

Think of the last movie you watched. There comes a scene and you see an actor come onto the screen. You’ve seen him or her in dozens of films, and it’s always a stellar performance but you can never remember their name. Yup, it’s that guy/gal! The film gets bonus points if that guy/gal turns out to be Michael Biehn.

D. - Quotable:

This one is rather self explanatory. Do you lay the lines on your friends when you’re busting each others chops, even though the movie could be 15 years old or more? When you quote a line do random people respond with the next line? Then it’s quotable. Think any golfer on the links and Caddyshack. That’s your quotability factor.

E. - That’s so old!

This sounds like an insult, but it’s actually an ultra compliment. We’re not looking for something dated that looks bad, like Tron, but rather does the film remind you of a specific time period? Does watching it bring back nostalgic feelings of that period in your life? Do you smile thinking of friends you watched it with, all piled on a couch and laughing or gasping all at once? Does it still hold up after numerous years and fad changes? That’s a winner then.

F. – But it’s on cable!?!:

The cable factor is important. Before watching any film edited for television, it must pass muster with a few key questions. One, will you still watch it even though they’ve taken out any incidental nudity? Two, will you still watch it with all the possible gore/gigantic explosions removed? Three, will it still be palatable without any swears? This one is particularly important, because watching Pulp Fiction or most Kevin Smith movies on cable are exercises in futility without the curse words. Four, is it worth your time to invest 2 plus hours on a film cut up to accommodate commercial breaks. And five, if you stumble onto the film by accident, will it cause you to immediately stop surfing and settle in, no matter how far along the film is? If the answer to these questions is yes, then grab your popcorn.

G: - Rewatchability Factor:

This is key and perhaps the most important criteria of them all. You’ve seen the movie, you know the characters, the story, the plot twists, everything. But were they intriguing enough to watch them over and over? Sometimes, yes and other times, well, once was more than enough.

Now without further ado I present….

The Top Twenty

20. - Con Air – Super cheesy, lots of action, a great that guy in Colm Meaney and some decent quotes. But Nicholas Cage’s terrible straggly wig and weird accent detracts after multiple viewings.

19. – Twister – Ultra cheese factor, with more than a few oh come on! moments (think flying cows), plus an unknown Phillip Seymour Thomas, who I’m sure does not include this on his resume. But the big question remains, did this kill Helen Hunt’s career?

18. - Castaway – Great film, a Tom Hanks gem but not much happens. While worth viewing, the film loses points due to its length without commercials thus increasing your time commitment. Plus I tend to find myself doing other things when it’s on, relegating it to the background until he escapes the island. Although it gets an A for quotes with “WILSON I’M SORRY!”

17. – Independence Day – Wooden acting and excellent special effects rule this flick. Great secondary actors with Brent Spiner as the wacky scientist and Judd Hirsch as the cranky Jewish dad steal and chew scenes one after another. But watching a Mac laptop, before the internet really exploded, suddenly able to connect to an alien host computer drops this film fast.

16. - The Rock – This film has almost everything, and one can even live without some of the action and cursing. But it’s a bit too cheesy, and too unbelievable. Who really believes a nerdy Cage is winning a hand to hand fight with a marine? Plus, after a while it loses its power in multiple viewings. Although Sean Connery does chew the scenery with aplomb.

15. – Steel Magnolias – A film worth watching just for Olympia Dukakis alone. She seems to be on the inside of a joke the entire film, but we never really know what it is. Unfortunately it kind of falls apart at the very end and occasionally makes you think, didn’t Terms of Endearment do this better? No matter, anyone would give their eye teeth to take a whack at Weezer.

14. - Old School - Hilarity ensues with this great R rated comedy. Toning it down for cable viewing hurts it tremendously, despite a plethora of quotable lines. Most notably the opening wedding scene with an edited The Dan Band takes the humor out of that entire scene. But Vince Vaughn still translates well. And it’s still worth watching Jeremy Piven and Craig Kilborn get theirs in the end. You’re my boy, Blue!

13. – Apollo 13 – Hmmm, Tom Hanks again, is that a theme here? Excellent with reminding of a time period, portraying 1970’s America when the space program had relevancy. Plus despite knowing the outcome, I still get nervous when they go past the 3 minute mark for communication blackout. And, it has Clint Howard, although by now he’s past that guy status.

12. - Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion – Ok, I’m a total sucker for this movie. Sorvino and Kudrow crack me up every time and Alan Cumming is fantastic as the uber successful nerd who still loves Michele. Plus, I’m sure everyone can relate to being dissed, and wishing to show up, the A crowd. Although lack of quotability does hurt the film.

11. - Caddyshack – Almost too easy to pick this one. Wickedly funny, great cast and a tornado of a supporting role by Rodney Dangerfield land this film on the list. This film gave us thankfully Back to School, and unfortunately Lady Bugs, thanks to Dangerfield’s stellar work. But it loses points over the years thanks to everyone quoting it all the time, anywhere. The line, “It’s in the hole!” takes away from the movie when nimrods use it on a mini golf course. And yes, I am one of the nimrods to blame for that.

10. - Wedding Crashers – Yeah, I know, it suffers the same fate as Old School regarding language and nudity, which drops it to this spot on the list. But Vince Vaughn is a tour de force, and Bradley Cooper plays such a fantastic jerk you cheer when he gets slugged at the end. And Jane Seymour? Meow! I’ll call her kitty cat any day.

9. – The Fugitive – Who would have thought this film based on a forgotten TV show would be so good? Great rewatchability factor, some good quotes, and Tommy Lee Jones just stealing this movie right out from under lead star Harrison Ford.

8. – Die Hard – Great film and reinvented the action genre by steering away from super buff guys to your everyday guy, Bruce Willis. But the cable factor kills it. It’s not the same with some of the action and swears removed. Quotability is super high, but once again some of the best lines contain curse words. Plus increasingly ridiculous sequels watered down the original.

7. – Predator – Now how can a cheesy action film from the 80’s that features two future governors not be on this list? It’s difficult to watch this film without getting splashed by the testosterone that gushes from this flick. There’s not too much swearing to take out, and the action holds up well. This movie was so good; they’re still making bad sequels.

6. – The Goonies – If you were a kid who had a vivid imagination, you played out this movie in your back yard long before it hit theaters, only missing the gemstones at the end. Who didn’t want to be a goonie afterward? Plus, it has a young Josh Brolin! Sloth love Chunk!

5. – Red Dawn – This film has every quality you could want from a rewatchable movie, especially a high cheese factor and super dated (I mean come on, most people under 22 have no idea what the Cold War was!). But it now makes me sad to watch, since I fear what horror the impending remake will wreak upon the memory of the original. RIP Jed. WOLVERINES!

4. - The Shawshank Redemption – This movie is almost too good to be on this list, as I always watch it if I find it. But that’s rewatchability for you. The one thing going against it, is that watching it on cable and then unedited, can almost feel like two different movies. I didn’t think some of the content had that big an impact until I caught it recently on a movie channel. Still worth watching, though.

3. – True Lies – Action, comedy, touching family drama all wrapped up into two hours of cheesy fun. This film has just about everything, but only a few super memorable quotes. But it did one thing no one thought possible, it gave Tom Arnold a career, since he nailed every scene. I still don’t think he’s been as entertaining, or funny, since.

2. – The Karate Kid - I know, doesn’t this fall into the same remake category of Red Dawn? It could, but the original was so good, even a terrible remake, and an awful third sequel with Hillary Swank, cannot detract from this film. It has just about everything. A brash Ralph Macchio, a young and adorable Elizabeth Shue as the romantic interest, Pat Morita knocking it out of the park and of course the immortal Billy Zabka! Zabka alone, as the ultra arrogant Johnny, is worth your two hours. You want Daniel-son to kick his fanny. And when he realizes at the end his sensei is wrong, you feel good he turned to Daniel’s side after the match. Cheese factor? High. Quotability? Please, who doesn’t respond to “Sweep the leg” or “Wax on, Wax off”? And the entire movie makes you think 1980’s. This film would easily be number one, but was narrowly edged out by….

1. - Forrest Gump – This film literally has it all, packed in to a time frame spanning the 50’s through the 80’s. The supporting cast is stellar with Robin Wright Penn and Gary Sinese plus a wonderful Sally Field. Mykelti Williamson shows up before anyone knew who he was, and admit it, when you see him now the first thing you say is, it’s Bubba! Age is no factor for this film, since it reminds the viewer of EVERY time period. Quotability? Please! This film is stocked full. Almost every line is quotable. The cable factor? This film feels like it was made to be shown repeatedly on cable. Rewatchability? Oh, out of the park, since I always put the remote down when I find this gem. Each time you watch you find something new, especially cheesiness. I mean come on, no reporter trying to interview Forrest on his cross country run has done any research to figure out this gardener is also the same Forrest Gump who’s a college football All American, Vietnam war hero and Congressional Medal of Honor winner, international ping pong celebrity and ultra successful business man who started a shrimping empire and a gazillionaire? Just like in the film, Forrest comes out on top again, without even trying just by being Forrest Gump.

Random Observations VI Return of the Silly

It’s been a while since we peaked behind the curtain of our world and spotted a few of our, shall we say, less intelligent moments. I’ve got a few I’ve been saving, and some nice recent ones as well plus a few wacky personal observations thrown in just for fun. So how about we look at a few and chuckle at our own inanity. Remember, this is your world.


Oh wow, Coors cut a hole in their beer cases! Dang I bet it actually tastes palatable now! If you fall for this obvious marketing ploy that does nothing to change the quality of the product and merely the appearance, then please come visit me. I have this bridge I’ve been trying to sell.


Why are Skittles commercials so disturbing? How does showing a kid with a tree that produces candy growing out of his midsection make me want to eat Skittles? If anything, it makes me want to avoid them, especially since he’s not portrayed as terribly hygienic.


Did we really need a sequel to Wall Street? Didn’t we cover all there was with the first one?


And on that note, how can there be a sequel to Marley and Me when Marley dies at the end? Oh, the makers of this film figured it out. It will be a prequel. Uhhh, quick question, how can you do that when the first movie covered Marley’s entire life from puppy to old dog?


Trousers are a funny word.


Did anyone catch this article? If not give it a quick read, it’s not very long and just reinstates the belief in my mind of just what amazing creatures dogs are. I’m glad I have two.


Volkswagen, just so you know, the stupid kids game where you hit someone and call out the car color when you see a Beetle is called PUNCHBUG! Making a dumb version called Punch Dub for a lame advertizing campaign does not count.


I’m pretty sure there’s no way to stop this from happening at this point. But man, I really wish they weren’t remaking Red Dawn. The original still holds up and is just as good today as the day it came out. This is almost as bad an idea as remaking The Karate Kid.


I don't like the word quickly. I can't explain why, just don't care for it.


If no one else will say it, then I suppose I must. Shia LaBeouf stinks. How does he continue to get work? He’s bland, milquetoast and has the emotional range of a transistor radio. He’s the Joe Buck of Hollywood.


Boy I could use a vacation. Sandy, sunny and warm with umbrella drinks sounds like just the ticket.


Boy, I really wish Miracle Whip would just tone it down; it is too wild for my sandwiches.


Something tells me this blanket would not make a good anniversary gift. I think if you gave this to your spouse, you would be using it to cover up on the couch. Although the lady at the beginning kills me!


Yeah, I’ve thought about it and I must say I really don’t care for Michael Jordan with the Hitler mustache.


I owe a debt of gratitude to Joel McHale. Thanks to him, I get all the pop culture I need, and can stand, in 30 minute segments each week. And then, I can completely ignore it, thus freeing myself for other pursuits such as reading, napping or smacking my fingers with a hammer. You know constructive things.


Attention Subway and Pizza Hut: Your any sandwich/pizza for one price promotion is a good idea. But if certain items are exempt from said promotion, then you cannot say ALL items are one price. Please see Papa John’s promotion to see what any item one price means.


In case you missed it, here’s a fun one from earlier this year on the FAA’s crackdown of cockpit distractions to pilots, like say Solitaire and Minesweeper. To be honest, my life would have been better not knowing this happened.


I’ll wrap up this little tome with this stunning article from 2009. This just must be near the top of the list of stupidest things I’ve ever read. If she had a phone in one hand and a baby in the other, just exactly how was she driving the car? And I thought people who read magazines and newspapers behind the wheel were bad.