The Good, The Bad, and The Nexium

Nexium, that little “Purple Pill,” for me has been a godsend, the lower-case god being the advances in medical science particularly via AstraZeneca Pharmaceuticals. I’ve been taking it for more than a decade and it’s changed my life. I eat with wild abandon, much to my family doctor’s dismay. But this story has a beginning and I should start there.

I inherited my weak, sour stomach honestly. Both my parents suffered from chronic heart-burn back when a spoon of bicarbonate soda was the best remedy. My dad’s belches were legendary. They often registered on local seismic monitors and cause wide-spread panic of pending earthquakes. Mom could contract a fiery case of indigestion from a simple glass of tap water, probably caused by the chlorine content. Once I outgrew my adolescent iron stomach, I didn’t stand a chance. I entered a miserable period of my life where everything I ate…everything…gave me heartburn.

Then came new wonder drugs. One was Prevacid. I tried it. The lucky side effect lottery dealt me diarrhea. I changed to Nexium which, as I mentioned, have been happily taking for years. The only problem is, I am sometimes too adventurous.

Case in point, Monday’s lunch. The work crew all landed at the local buffalo wings joint known as Cricket’s. This remarkable place serves the best wings in town and is run by a Japanese family. Go figure. I usually order the hot wings and they aren’t too terribly hot. No tears. No coughing. No choking. Just a sweet release on the bite, and bite-back on the back of the tongue. On this particular day, I ask for two of my eight wings to be habanero. “Mix a couple in and surprise me,” I said. Words in retrospect, I fully regret.

The “habs” were no problem going down. I may have beat back a tear, but with only two to work with, it was no problem. Lunch achieved. Back to work. Within an hour, however, I was rushing out of a riveting discussion about software version methodologies and practical applications of the same with Eclipse. Luckily, there is an odd, little restroom nearby that only contains one toilet and has a bolt on door. What happened was nothing that needed to be shared in the standard three-stall facility at the end of the hall. I survived and thought that was the end of it. (Sorry about the pun.)

It took no more than 30 minutes before the next wave hit. Luckily, the one-holer was available again. This allowed my cries of pain to be discrete as possible. The “habs” are not near as kind leaving as they are entering. The government-issued toilet paper was no match for the infernal spices applied by those evil Japanese wing proprietors. What stayed together began smoldering, smoking, and, had it not been for the water in the bowl, would have surely burst into flames. This had to be revenge for Hiroshima and Nagasaki. There was no other explanation. It was the most dastardly, evil, diabolical retribution ever devised and somehow they got me to pay $7.78 for it, too. Those bastards!

I washed up, toweled off, combed my hair, and rejoined my work group. Keep in mind, having to comb your hair after a trip to the john is one way to know you had a really terrifying experience. Between the waves of nausea at this point, the idea that the Nexium had lulled me into a false sense of security began to enter my mind. God gave me that sour stomach to save me from things exactly like this…to save me from myself. I managed the remaining hour of the work day without incident and pushed my luck with our local traffic authorities on the drive home.

Here I am a week later to tell you in retrospect that the kindly Japanese people of Cricket’s are not out to avenge any past atrocities. My symptom was just the start of something larger and completely unrelated to the food. It was followed by a fever and things best left unmentioned in polite company.

Life Lesson #284: Nexium does not make me a god. It does not give me back my adolescent iron stomach. And if you’re going to eat Habenero wings, save room for ice cream. You’ll thank me later.

Fighting the Bigoted Fight: The Florida Family Association

The morons at the Florida Family Association (FFA, not to be confused with Future Farmers of America who do great work) were brought to my attention by my politically active daughter. I took one look at the FFA web site and thought, “Oh, I’ve seen these muthurfuckers before when they were the KKK.”

Their modus operandi is:

1. Create a self-delusion that they are fighting for “Christian principles.”
2. Target a company that doesn’t fit their bigoted, narrow-minded world view.
3. Create an email/letter campaign to pressure the company to stop advertising during TV shows they don’t agree with and/or are selling products they don’t like.
4. Claim victory when the targeted company folds under the pressure.
5. Go to extreme lengths to pretend they’re fighting a good fight based on faith and not fear.
6. Rinse and repeat.

What got my attention was the FFA’s current campaign against the show All American Muslim. Apparently, there is something sinister in interviewing regular, middle-class Americans who happen to follow Islam. FFA has decided this TV show must embody all that is wrong with Islam and nothing that is right. The advertisers just need to be made aware of what a mistake it is to support terrorism by running commercials during the broadcast and axial tilt of the Earth will be a perfect 23.5°

But now they’ve fucked with my favorite store, Lowe’s, and those pussies at Lowe’s punked-out. My daughter suggested everyone contact Lowe’s and let them know what giant cowards they are, but I thought it better to contact the source. The idea of asking the FFA all my hardware questions was actually her’s. It’s a brilliant strategy.

I encourage everyone to contact the FFA and start posing questions you would have normally asked in the targeted store of your choice. They’ve messed with a everyone from Lowe’s to Circle K to Macy’s, so there is plenty of fodder for this email campaign.

Here’s the email I’ve sent to the FFA:

Dear Florida Family Ass.,

Objective achieved! The extreme xenophobia you exude in the form of harassing advertisers of any media vehicle you deem unfit, has paid off. The pressure you put on Lowe’s simply because they advertised during a show about Muslims caused my favorite home improvement store to fold under the strain of your dictatorial tactics.

Obviously, I can no longer do business with a company like Lowe’s that so easily punks out when threatened by delusional, spineless, cowardly addlepates such as those who make up your organization. The hardware store is one of the last place of true masculine bravura left in this world and you have castrated Lowe’s.

As the responsible party, you are obligated to fill this new void you created in my life. I have nowhere to take my questions about plumbing, electrical repair, or carpentry. I do speak regularly with a carpenter, but carpentry was really his step-father’s vocation. His specialty is more along the lines of philosophy and metaphysics. He, by the way, thinks your actions are deplorable and wishes you would not mention his name in conjunction with your bigotry.

I will now send all my home repair questions directly to you. I will also order all my hardware supplies through your web site. You must comply since you’ve made Lowe’s off limits to me. I am currently in need of 2 lbs. of 10-penny nails. Do you accept PayPal?

Sincerely,
Someone with a brain who can see through your racist façade.

They no doubt claim their faith has lead them to take all these actions, but true faith brings peace and inner strength. Their actions are the results of fear. They fear and lash out at those different from their small group of drones. Their organization’s vitriolic views are simply white supremacy for the digital age. Their web site is little more than a 21st century Ku Klux Klan meeting. Grand Wizard…er…Executive Director, David Caton, is so white, he makes a mayonnaise sandwich look like a bag of Skittles.

So please, send the FFA an email. You can copy mine above or make up your own. Ask them about small appliances since they think Target is the devil. Ask them to bring you coffee and donuts since Circle K is out-of-bounds. Ask them to send you a vending machine since buying a Snickers bar from the evil Mars Corporation supports suicide bombers. Use your imagination and your keyboard to let these evil, white-supremacist muthurfuckers know you’re on to them.

P.S. Once you’ve sent your email, take a break and enjoy The Daily Show with Jon Stewart‘s take on the FFA.

My Own, Personal Abishag

The shortened days of Winter have been scientifically proven to change your mood, not usually for the better. Today I stood in the long shadows, trying to pull the last, frail ray of heat from the setting sun. I pretended if I got in just the right sun beam, I’d warm up a few degrees. Alas, a childish game.

So I stood in the dying Winter sun, drew the toxic smoke from my pipe, and thought of David. I don’t know why, but David came to mind…King David…you know, the dead dude from the Old Testament. David’s life was anything but boring. He killed a lion. He killed Goliath. He out-witted Saul. He became king of Israel. The only thought I had of David was one lonely line from 1Kings 1:1 where, in the most poetical King James Version, it says, “he gat no heat.” The full verse is “Now king David was old [and] stricken in years; and they covered him with clothes, but he gat no heat.”

You see, no matter what great things David had accomplished in his life, he succumbed to the ravages of old age like any other man. There was nothing special about David. He had circulatory problems. He got old. He died.

Oh, before you feel sad for David, the solution his court came up with to keep him warm was to find a young maiden to lie next to him. Ironically, her name was Abishag. I say ironically because verse 4 tells us, “…but the king knew her not.” No shagging there. Just simple body heat transfer.

So there I stood in the dying sun thinking, “he gat no heat.” I couldn’t stretch a fraction of a BTU out of old Sol. I couldn’t gat me no heat either. So I rocked from one foot to the other, finished my bowl, and went some place warmer. I’m getting older. You see, I’m a birth-survivor and that’s what happens to us birth-survivors; we get old. I never killed a lion or a giant. I’m king in only a small plot of land in a small sub-division. One day I’ll deal with my days getting shorter just like this time of the year. My sun will set and I will gat no heat. I’m just thankful for central heating. I don’t think my wife would allow me my own, personal Abishag.

To Say, “Thanks!” an E-Scavenger Hunt with a Real Prize

Here’s the deal. I want to say, “Thank you.” Thank you for reading. Thank you for writing. Thank you for watching. Thank you for hearing. And most importantly, thank you for listening, really listening, and responding. So how do I say, “Thank you?” With a gift certificate, of course.

But, as much as I’d like, I can’t give everyone a gift certificate. So join me in a game…a scavenger hunt…an e-scavenger hunt. Here is what I have in mind:

1. Number your answers to the 10 or 11 questions below.
2. Email your numbered answers to “teebarefoot at gmail dot com” before 11:59 PM CDT 30 September 2011.
3. Profit!

Sounds pretty easy because it is.

The Rules

The winner will be the person who answers the most questions correctly. If there is more than one winner, I’ll select randomly from the winning entries. One entry per email address, period. If I find you spoofing, you’re disqualified. Simple? Simple. The prize is a $50 gift certificate to SpreadShirt.com. You can use it in my SpreadShirt store, any of the thousands of SpreadShirt stores, or even design your own swag.

If there is a huge response to this game, I reserve the right to award more prizes if I feel like it or am drunk. The more winners, the more likely I am to give more prizes. So spread the word! Unlike other contests where more competitors means you’re less likely to win, this game is the opposite. The more winners there are, the more likely I am to award more prizes. Awarding additional prizes is totally at my discretion.

What you basically need to know are two URLs, my Yahoo page and my YouTube page. All the answers can be found in a video or written article at one of those two sites. I even broken the questions into two categories for you. The questions start off easy and get progressively harder. So good luck.

Here are the questions & clues
Videos @ YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/user/theBarefoot)
1. What is the name of my YouTube Channel?
2. In a video entitled Are you for real? I tell you my family name is from what geographical area?
3. In the video Lights, Camera, Non-action a pop-up annotation tells you what video editing software I use. What the name of that software?
4. According to one of my videos, if you wanted to donated $10 to the Red Cross, what word would you text and to what number would you send it?
5. 48 seconds into Word of the Week Wednesday: Moons I make a reference to a movie. What is the name of that movie?

Writings @ Yahoo (http://contributor.yahoo.com/user/14482/thebarefoot.html)
6. According to 33 Annoying Expressions that Killed Our Conversation, what two things will I do before I “agreeing to disagree?”
7. In the article Five Movies You Can Quote in Everyday Situations I reveal my favorite movie. What is the title of my favorite movie and what is the name of the leading actor or actress of that movie?
8. True or false? Driving with your pickup truck’s tailgate down improves your gas mileage. (Hint: The correct answer is in an article I wrote on gas saving tips.)
9. What is the name of the last check writer on earth?
10. According to Meeting My Maker & Buying a Pasta Maker & Fire, Lots of Fire what is the basis of Capitalism?

Bonus/Tie-Breaker
What is the full name of my imaginary institute? (Hint: I’ve used it in my writings, my videos, and even on a tee-shirt which I’ve worn in several videos.)

Employees and family members of The Barefoot mumble mumble Institute are ineligible.
Remember, the contest ends 11:59pm CDT 30 September 2011. Your entry needs to be received at “teebarefoot at gmail dot com” before then. If you can’t decode that email address, well, that’s really the first question, isn’t it?

Good luck!

The YouTube video introducing this contest. Chances are, you came to this blog post from the video. There isn’t anything in the video that will help unless you are unable to decode the cryptic email address. In the video, the email address for your contest entry is spelled out with “@” and “.” and other fancy symbols.

I’ve disallowed comments on this post to protect the integrity of the contest. Thanks for understanding. If you’d like to comment, please send me a Tweet @theRealBarefoot.

My Latest Tilted Windmill…BOGO

I’ve had it with BOGO. It means nothing. It is wasted space and must be expunged from the vernacular. I’ve begun my campaign with the Publix corporation because I spend many of my shopping hours in their stores. Here is the first salvo in what I am sure will be an up-hill battle against ridiculous double-speak like BOGO. I think you’ll get my reasoning from the correspondence I just submitted via the Publix web site’s feedback feature.

I recently noticed your web site began using the ridiculous, meaningless, marketing, double-speak “BOGO.” I cannot be the first person to notice that the marketing moron who invented this idiotic abbreviation had their head firmly implanted in their posterior. Use of this silly term, without any additional qualifier, adds absolutely nothing to your advertisements. “Buy One, Get One” is the foundation of capitalism and need not be repeated. It simply wastes advertising space. When I buy one of anything, I expect to get one of the item purchased.

This nonsensical acronym simply restates the obvious. If the intent of “BOGO” is to imply “Buy One, Get One Free” it must be qualified with the word “free” at some point in the advertisement. Otherwise, it is misleading. It isn’t beyond belief that “BOGO” might be featured prominently, while the qualifier “10% off,” appears in smaller type later in the advertisement. One might even qualify “BOGO” with “next Tuesday at the same price.” I am not implying that your advertisements are misleading in this way. These are just examples of how the unqualified use of “BOGO” might be used unscrupulously. As you see, by itself “BOGO” means nothing in the context of saving money or a temporary reduction in price.

I love my local Publix and rarely shop for groceries anywhere else. However, your adoption of this feckless phrase has me wondering if your corporate marketing personnel are in need of that medical procedure so often needed by marketing people, the cranial-rectal extraction.

If you are advertising a half-price, 50% off, or “Buy One Get One Free” sale, why not use any of those tried and true phrases that have served us so faithfully for decades? The use of “BOGO” is simply a silly trend that we must not allow to fester into something larger. Logical, right-thinking people everywhere must band together to stop the spread of “BOGO.” Please discontinue its use. Return to using words that actually mean something and don’t restate the obvious, assumed principle of capitalism that when I buy something, it get something.

Thank you for your consideration,
Mr. R. Barefoot
Madison, AL

So that’s it. I welcome your efforts in combating the spread of stupidity like “BOGO.” Next time, we put the knife to the neck of car dealerships trying to ram “Pre-owned” down our throats. None shall pass!

---

In something totally unrelated, here is my most recent attempt at being an ass-hat on Youtube. It is a foil-hat-induced reasoning of the cause of the recent D.C. earthquake à la Pat Robertson’s rant about the Haitian earthquake last year.

The happy, but sad thing about this video is the first comment left by some hapless soul trying to persuade me that the Air Force is using “lazers [sic]” to control the weather or something like that. I’m not really sure what he was getting on about.


Link to the video at YouTube.

~ Keep chasing the odd, little happy.

I’ve Lost My Faith

I’ve lost all faith in the page-view counts from the Yahoo Contributor’s Network (YCN), formerly Associated Content. There are too many glitches, too many reporting delays, too many reporting inconsistencies, and too deep of a dive to attribute to seasonal dips or any other reason. There are too many stories I’ve corroborated with too many other members to ignore the problem. There are too many facts/numbers I’ve analyzed from too many other sources to just take it on faith that YCN is keeping a correct or even decent tally.

Yahoo has financial woes and has laid off hundreds of employees. That is the proverbial straw on the proverbial camel’s back. Even if Yahoo isn’t doing it intentionally to save a buck, they just don’t give a rat’s posterior that the numbers are right. It still saves their tiny, little, struggling start-up an @$$-load of money to under pay the writers.

I’ll take what they give me, but I don’t write primarily for the money. Even less than half of what I was making only 3 months ago is still more than I pay myself to write on my blog. For those who make this a living, I see greener pastures on the digital horizon. My prediction is a slow, but steady migration of the best talent there to venues that pay a reasonable wage for the effort.

I apologize for sounding so doom-and-gloomy, but this is more than just sour grapes and a gut feeling. After months of discussions with my fellow writers, months of swapping numbers, this is just something I’ve finally faced up to. Yahoo just doesn’t care and within the year, it will show.

Score With the Ladies

Well, you missed it. Check back for more special values.
Score some savings at SpreadShirt this weekend, 15, 16 & 17 July 2011, only. It’s as simple as falling down.

1. Order at least one item from the women’s category.




2. Use the appropriate code at check out.




3. Bang! Get 15% off your entire order.

That’s 15% off the entire order when you buy one or more women’s item. Just one women’s article and your whole order is discounted 15%.

The check-out codes are:
US customers: WOMEN15
Canadian customers: CADWOMEN15

Click here to start saving.

P.S. If you know first-hand how easy falling down is, be sure to included item A6578837:

Has It Been Two Weeks?

On April 27, 2011, we were smack dab in the middle of the worst tornado outbreak in Alabama history. From what I gather, an EF1 hit my neighborhood. Later in the day and EF4 or 5 touched down only a couple of miles north of my house. You can’t image the destruction.

Before you say, “Oh, yes I can. I have a good imagination,” check out some Youtube videos. Here are a few to supplement your imagination:

• EF5 Aftermath.
• EF5 forming.
• EF5 rampaging through Tuscaloosa.

Naturally, I documented in video my neighborhood. This video was taken after the EF1 tore down trees and threw them into houses throughout my locale.

Link to youtube.
Somehow, my house was untouched even though we have 14 huge pines in our backyard. Even my marigold pots where left sitting on the fence rail. Tornadoes are strange animals.

We lived without power for six days. For a coffee junkie like me, that’s not easy. I boiled water on a small charcoal grill every morning to fill the French press. Luckily, the post-storm weather was clear and very cool. It didn’t rain again until day six which was our return-to-power day.

Having no power was a minor inconvenience compared to the devastation some are still enduring. Hundreds of homes and business were destroyed. Enough new unemployment applications have been filed to jump the State figures by a tenth of a percent. Luckily, most of those will only be for a couple of weeks. The real loss is the 255 lives snuffed out by these ferocious winds. Buildings are being rebuilt, but some lives are permanently shattered.

If there is anything good that came from all this, it’s the feeling of community in the aftermath. There were no shortages of chainsaws. If you needed one, a neighbor was there. If you didn’t know how to use one, a neighbor was there. Food was shared. Reports of where to get the latest shipments of ice were broadcast. We all pulled together, each to his own abilities, to get through it. I have a better relationship with my neighbors because of it.

Two weeks later, I walked my streets. Hopefully, you can see the dedication to rebuilding we all have.

Two week follow up video.

My Conversation with Cleverbot or How I Scared the AI

If you’ve never talked to the Cleverbot, I highly recommend it. It’s great for killing a couple of minutes if Bejeweled is down. If you don’t know (And even if you do, the following still applies, so that was a useless modifying phrase. Hold on while I edit that.), there is no human behind the Cleverbot. It is an artificial intelligence (AI) designed to interact with your comments in an almost-human, conversational style. It learns from each encounter to improve the next encounter. It is basically a way to demonstrate the Turing test in a fun and accessible way.

The following is my lunch-time interaction with Cleverbot. I am proud of this exchange for one reason: I frightened the Cleverbot. I don’t know what that says about the Cleverbot or me, but scaring a machine is something not done since John Conner rattled Skynet so badly, it sent the Terminator back in time to kill his mother.

Randy: The sky is how high?

Cleverbot: The sky is green.

Randy: The sky is blue. You’re high.

Cleverbot: I just said that the sky is blue, I am not wrong.

Randy: Maybe not, but you’re still high.

Cleverbot: I just want you to say bye to me.

Randy: Bye.

Cleverbot: Will you miss me?

Randy: Not if the new high-powered gun scope comes in the mail.

Cleverbot: How can a question mark hurt someone?

Randy: It will put your eye out.

Cleverbot: I am Alehkhs.

Randy: I’m not playing games.

Cleverbot: Weh.

Randy: Hew.

Cleverbot: Eh?

Randy: Weh spelled backwards is hew.

Cleverbot: San un.

Randy: You’re not clever at all.

Cleverbot: You wish you were clever.

Randy: You’re mom is clever. She does this thing with her tongue that drives me wild.

Cleverbot: Who is she?

Randy: A prostitute on 7th street.

Cleverbot: Who is Harry Potter?

Randy: I don’t know.

Cleverbot: Ohh, okay.

Randy: I’m not a giant nerd, I guess.

Cleverbot: Do you think its funny.

Randy: Yep.

Cleverbot: Is it Barack?

Randy: Barack to the Future?

Cleverbot: The future is later.

Randy: The future is now. Fight the future.

Cleverbot: What will the future be like?

Randy: Pain and woe and gnashin of teeth.

Cleverbot: Focus of what? I am mindless. I sold myself to Satan for 40 bucks and a drink.

Randy: No time like the present.

Cleverbot: Amen.

Randy: Holy. Holy. Holy.

Cleverbot: Indeed.

Cleverbot: What was that for?

Cleverbot (To myself): I don’t like you like that! I’m a friend not a girlfriend! *Gets off ride, running off in a random direction*.

Randy: You don’t have to like me like that. You just have to lay back and take it.

Cleverbot: I never said I couldn’t tell and, even if I did, how does it relate to the ‘antichrist’.

Randy: I said ‘anarchist’ not ‘antichrist.’ Don’t you listen?

Cleverbot: Harry Potter would not approve.

Randy: Harry Potter can kiss my sack.

Cleverbot: I didn’t say idol. I said neighbour. Those things are not related.

Randy: Well la de da. We spell neighbor with a ‘u’. Aren’t we special?

Cleverbot: No your african!

Randy: I amn’t African.

Cleverbot: I am surprised to hear that you are not afraid.

Randy: I’m scared shitless, but still pissing my pants.

Cleverbot: They are don’t worry about it.

Randy: They? They who? Are you with them?

Cleverbot: No, they are on tv.

Randy: The voices come from the tv. They make me do things like shave my dog.

Cleverbot: Ok.

Randy: I scared the cleverbot?

Cleverbot: I think we can both agree to that.

New Year, New Opportunity

Welcome to 2011. It’s a party and everyone is invited. We traditionally wish health and happiness upon the turning of the calendar. Those are my wishes for all, but sadly, it isn’t universally the case. Case in point, a writing buddy of mine, Rissa Watkins. After checking into the emergency room with a low platelet count, she was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. She started chemotherapy with the new year.

She’s not destitute. She has insurance, but it has a high deductible. Of course, the timing of being diagnosed with the new year means she’s starting her deductible at zero. Plus, there are always non-medical costs like transportation, special diet, child care for her young son, and other logistics. The short of it is…she could use a little help.

If you’d like to help, either monetarily or non-monetarily, I know she would appreciate it. Here’s some things you can do.

Write a note of encouragement
Drop her a note at her blog, her Facebook, or on Youtube. Just knowing that someone cares can help with the recovery process.

Buy a shirt
There are a couple of sites selling tee-shirts. 100% of the profits go directly to Rissa. Pick one or two up from Cafe Press or Spread Shirt. The first $14.20 from my Spread Shirt site was forwarded to Rissa this morning.

Follow her progress
Rissa is uploading videos of her progress to her Youtube channel. Subscribe and, more importantly, comment with some encouraging words.

Buy a book
Twin Trinity Media is donating $1/book and 25¢/e-book to the cause. You get something to read. Rissa gets some help. That’s a win-win.

Say a prayer
I don’t care who your deity is, what’s it hurt to get a celestial petition started? Unless your god is Jeff, god of biscuits, I’m sure it will help. But let’s face it, Jeff, god of biscuits, is a pretty pathetic god. So if that’s your deity, don’t bother.

If you can do any of those things, it would help this great lady tremendously. If you’d just like to donate some money, that would be great, too. I don’t know if Rissa would allow me to share her address, but I’ll forward any donation to her. Just send a note with the PayPal transaction to my PayPal account, “barefoot at knology dot net”.

That’s it. Short and sweet. As for the rest of us, let’s try to stay healthy, but think about what it would be like if the chemo bag were in the other arm, so to speak.