While perusing the local news yesterday I found an article that truly boggled my mind. Living in Provo, I’m constantly amused (or driven mad) by the quirky antics of a homogenized society. But this story takes the cake for all time stupidity. Are you ready? Here goes:

A woman in Provo staged a protest last week in front of social network Facebook’s headquarters in California. 11,000-plus people. A “sit-in”, they called it. Why? Because Facebook took down a profile photo of this woman nursing her baby.  Gasp.  I know. What a travesty. See article below:

http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&sid=5191633

In her own words she says she wants to protest for the rights of her daughter. What rights? The right her daughter has not to be hot under a blanket in public when she has to eat? Well, lady. Let me tell you something. If not being hot at the cost of decency was a right I’d be a nudist from June to October. I don’t think the kid cares.

There are a ton of worthy causes to fight for these days; global warming, global cooling, save the ducks, nuke the whales…and the list continues. Why is breastfeeding in public an issue? I guess I’ve never had kids so I don’t know the bonding that takes place between mother and child sitting at a bus stop exposing it all. When most people do that they get arrested.

But maybe I’m just being prudish. Although I doubt that.  When I was four the neighbors called my parents and told them a naked little girl was dancing around on the roof. Apparently I’d escaped from the bathtub. So nudity is no foreign offense. But I learned early on that being naked in public is not a right. Its a privilege of the crazies. And the French.

I say before staging this protest she could have stopped for a moment and asked herself, “is this photo of me nursing my baby worth the embarrassment this poor child is going to experience later on when every on the playground calls her ‘the boob girl’”? I think not. But hey-its Utah County. Thinking is not a commodity around here.  Burn.

A few weeks ago I was Christmas shopping for my husband. We’d set a limit on money we were going to spend on each other. As I hurried from store to store searching for the perfect presents my mind was filled with the thought; “I must fill my budget limit.  That’s the way I can show Dan I love him this year”. Hmmmmm…..I’m a consumer whore!

It happened slowly-first the thrill of owning my own checkbook and balancing my account when I turned seventeen. Then it was the tasty feel of the plastic debit card that swished so gracefully through the machine. Now I find myself, days before Christmas, wondering if I spent enough money on my family this year, wondering if I drained my checking acocunt thoughrally and hoping all my money will be well used.  God bless America, eh?

Then this morning, on my way to work, I heard a news report that holiday spending has dropped significantly. My first reaction was one of fear and depression at the sinking state of the economy. Then it all hit me: America, and much of the developed world for that matter, has evolved into a country of consumption. Every thing is measured on quantitiy, not quality.

So maybe its a good thing we’re not spending as much money as we have in the past.  Maybe it will be a healthy time for us to change our attitude from spend to….not spend. This past summer we all worked really hard on saving gas because gas prices were ridiculous. I think this same approach to spending in general would help our economy in the long run. Then maybe, just maybe, large stores like Walmart and K-mart and Crap-mart and all the other marts would stop producing astronomical quantities of stuff nobody needs. Then maybe the old independent stores would get a leg up. And we could all have a Merry Christmas.

So this year, instead of spending a fortune on presents that will soon be forgotten, get your loved ones something they’ll remember for years to come: nothing.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a moderately bear-marketed, high Dow invested holiday season (holiday season does not include Kwanzaa and Boxing Day….batteries also not included).

I’d like to take a moment to spotlight a very special Duck reader. I might make this a series in special duckites. But I probably won’t becaues every time I say I’m going to make a series I don’t. But anyway, today’s Duckduck Round of Enthusiastic Applause goes to me dear friend Melanie Haney.

What’s so great about Melanie? Well, she just finished another semester of law school. She’s now two and a half years into it. But what makes her really special is that she actually chose to go to law school in the first place. I thought about it once and after the hives died down and the breathing returned to nornal I realized my 7 year degree in Pointless Studies was sufficient.

Mel has plowed through these last few years with remarkable determination and a surprising deficit of swear words. And the best part about Mel is that when she graduates I’m going to have her take care of all my little “leagal conundrums” (again…I’ve apoplogized the the good people of Build-a-Bear….it was all a misiunderstanding…I promise).

So tarry on Mel. And remember: its hell being Mel.

So this week Dan and I decided to re-visit one of my absoluter favorite franchises. No, not Chuck-e-Cheeses, although that’s up there. I’m talking about the TERMINATOR movies. And I’m definitely NOT talking about that new Sarah Connor series. LAME. Anyway, enough with the CAPS.  Terminator movies rock. At least the first two did. These movies are great for the following reasons. You will agree with my reasons or be terminated. (See what I did just there? I made a reference to the movie inside an even bigger reference to the movie. I love talking like this!)

Reason the first: Sarah Connor should be every small girls role model

That was a long heading! But for a good reason. Sarah Connor is the Man. In girly speak that is. She is the first and only female lead in a movie that can actually hold her own against a robotic race of crazies…or any crazies. And Starbuck from BSG doesn’t count. She’s more machine that man (she’s not a Cylon). Sarah, especially in T-2, is a gun slinging, bomb building, rocket launching bad -*censored for my mother*. Much like someone else I know, featured in the photo below.

Reason the second: Arnold should be EVERY one’s role model

Yeah, that’s right. The Governator. What’s scarier than a villian that can’t be killed? Its a rhetorical question, so stop anwering. There’s nothing scarier than a non-terminatable bad guy.  Except maybe Rosie O’Donnel. *Shudder*. The thing I love about Arnold in all the movies is that he maintains his inderstuclable-ness. Even in T-2 when they melt him, he still goes down with style, and he still comes back.  And the fianl scene of T-1 is face melting. James Cameron did s great job making the Terminator both indestructible and yet slightly human at the same time. That’s what makes him such a chilling villain. Or makes him chillin like a….oh, you get the point.

Well, enough about that.  I could fill a book with love letters for the Terminator movies, at least the first two. I’ll just say, this fourth jobbie they’ve got coming up had better be damn good, because its missing all the elements of a good T flick: no Arnold, no Linda Hamilton, no James Cameron. Christian Bale has some mightly large shoes to fill.

Well, its been a while since my last post. Mostly because I have the most amazing post to…post but I can’t get pics to upload to my blog at present. So while we wait for the awesomeness of the post to come, might I regalled you all with a few antidotes from my workplace.

I work in an assisted living home, and needless to say these old folks are pretty darned funny.  Here are a few highlights from the last few weeks.

• I went to take a package to a woman’s room. Upon approaching her door, I saw a pair of underwear hanging from her door handle. I didn’t go in because in my generation a tie on the door knob meant “Do not enter” so I wasn’t sure if the under-roos were a kind of warning about what might be going on inside the door..

• A woman  came up to me the other day and said “I don’t want to talk to you ever again.” As she turned to leave my desk, she said, as an afterthought, “you’re so lovely.”

• I took someone to a dentist appointment the other day. About every two minutes the lady would ask me, “where are we going?”. I’d tell her we were headed to the dentist and she’d say, “Oh, well, I’m glad you know where you’re going, because I sure don’t.”. This same conversation repeated itself until we completed the half hour ride.

• A cute old man likes to sit on his walker and push himself around the lobby…backwards. As he scoots around he usually bumps into chairs, people, and other walkers.

• We have a few really nice, plush chairs in the lobby accompanied with wonderful throw pillows. Every morning, a dear, confused lady takes all the pillows out of the lobby up to her room. Every afternoon, I head up to her room, ask her to tell me a story, and while she’s talking I throw the pillows out in the hall and them return them to their rightful place.

• There are plenty of other funny moments but I’ll close with this one. We have a gentleman resident who makes Swedish meatballs every year at Christmas and sells them to other residents. A woman bought a few of his wares a couple days ago. On the subject line on the check she put, “for Bill’s balls”.

That’s about all I can think of at the moment but believe me, quirky times abound by the droves everyday in this wonderful place.

Just a thought…have you ever wondered why ducks fly south for the winter? Well, after giving the matter much thought I deduced that it must be some kind of Mexican/duck conspiracy. Think about it; the little quackers that sit so idly in our ponds all summer are just spies for our “amigos” down south. They’re privy to all sorts of information.

I propose a new “Ducktriot Act” to be put inplace immediatly. We could tap the hell out of all that quacking and put monitors around every aquatic open space. Ductriot police could be assigned to watch closely the conversations happening around ponds and open waters. Speaking of water, we should definitely water-board some ducks.

That’s how I’m going to keep America safe. How about you???

I have a long running policy about posting personal randomness. I don’t want “The Duck” to turn into my own internet diary. In short, I don’t want to be the cause of endless dollars in therapy bills and crying in the fetal position. But indulge me for a moment while I relate a personal tale of woe,

Last night, while preparing the next day’s eatables, I dropped a 10 pound crock pot on my big right toe. Needless to say, I handled it with composure and dignity. I didn’t even yell the f— word.

So after the first ten minutes of screaming and yelling and writhing and I apparently went into shock and don’t remember much. Dan took me to the ER and they did a bunch of x-rays. Long story short, no broken bones, just a bruised toe.

So…my question for myself is this…if I go into shock over a stubbed toe….how am I going to handle future medical conundrums….like pregnancy…or getting a sliver…and like and such as? What a wimp I am.

That is all for now.

Isn’t October wonderful? When else can we all revert back to childhood and be kids again? (Answer: every day if one plays enough Mad Dog Macree…that was one awesome Atari game.) Halloween time is a great chance to dress up like something crazy, or in the words of Mean Girls “dress like a hooker” and go crazy. Its an interesting holiday if you think about it. Small kids in costume go door to door searching for candy, carving pumpkins, smashing them…Billy Corgan. But where did all these tradition begin? With out consulting any outside resources, I will tell you MY Version of the History of Halloween.

In the Beginning

Halloween began many years ago in a time called “The 1960s”. WW11 had been over for a bit and people were looking for a reason to be angry again. Soon, somewhere in New York, armed thugs decided instead of holding up a drugstore dressed in the usual nylon cap and black ensemble, they’d don football uniforms and red dye…starting the first “dead football team” costumes. Then small children, wanting to get in on the fun of thugery, began dressing up in various outfits and holding up their neighbors for cash and jewelery while their parents waited in the car.

Modern day Halloween-ery

After the rash of armed robberies, police decided to mainstream the concept and encourage children to “rob” people of store-bought candy each October. They allowed them to maintain a “Trick or Treat” clause, providing that any house bereft of sweet hand-outs would be toilet papered, “forked”, or vandalized in any way the youth saw fit.

So, that’s where Halloween comes from. There are a few other details, but I really don’t want to bore you. Consult your local library for books on the 1960’s dawn of Halloween, or “Hell, man! That kid’s a wiener Day”, as it was called at the time.

We went to see this film last week. I went with no previous expectations…actually I had never even heard of it. That’s a fun way to approach movies sometimes, with no bias. The main stream media should try that once in a while…but I digress.

Here’s what I thought…as if it matters.

This movie is obviously about the War in Iraq…and Osama bin Laden…and the Isreali-Palestine conflict…and the ever present battle between dogs and cats. Or something.  It starts in a room full of terrorists interrogating the hell out of some guy. Then it moves to lots of shooting and swearing in arabic. And then it ends. That’s about it. And in all of that there’s supposed to be a gripping, bone chilling message. But I must have blinked and missed it.

If it was trying to raise awareness (because awareness-raising is all the rage these days) about the evils of Al Queda and its bin Laden leader then it missed the mark. We all know terrorists are bad. I don’t think anyone’s arguing against that right now. So a movie warning people about the perils of joing an Islamic (that’s right Dan…I said Islamic) militant seems a little redundant.

Leo DiCaprio’s been in a bunch of meaty little movies lately. And in every one he gets more and more burly and un-shaven. In this experiment he was even more rogue-like and “Bourne”-esque than the last few. But what he lacked was any true direction for his character. It seemed like he was trying so very hard to push his character into doing something Ocar-worthy. But all he succeeded in doing was running around looking cool and speaking kinda sh*tty arabic.

So in a nutshell, I’d say this movie is not worth the time. But its does have some cool scenes and if you’re listening very close you might find a moral in it somewhere. Oh, and they did decide to add some anti Iraq War stuff…in the last twenty minutes of the movie…when the main characters have run out of other things to yell at each other.

We’ve come a long way since the days of sexism and discrimination. It used to be that women were viewed as mere objects…no brains or substance. But America has moved past that. Now women sit on the Supreme Court, run for president, and discuss the news on prime time TV. And further more–oh wait–I just found something. Scratch all that last stuff. I just drove past a “Hooters”.

Its all about taste

I’ve heard it argued that this fine eating establishment is “all about the food”. Ok, I can buy that. But if its all about the food…why does their website feature busty women modeling this years “swim suit” edition menu? Ah, I get it. Good food=naked. We should apply this principle at all restaurants. Like Chilis. Fat middle aged waiter comes to the table…in the nude…patrons pass out, waiter eats left over fries. Good plan.

Is it reversible?

What about a version of Hooters for women? Here’s how it would work: Instead of a waiter sitting the patrons, he just stands at the door while they cry, telling him that he “should know where we want to sit by now you insensitive clod”. Instead of taking orders for food, the waiter sits next to the female customer while she goes on about the chick in the next booth who gave her a funny look on the way in. He automatically knows to bring them all salads and water…maybe some Diet Coke…and then at the end he spends five minutes telling them they don’t look fat after all that food.

I see this being a good solution to the injustice of Hooters marketing. Because really….are the wings THAT good?