I had a boss years ago that recommended the book “Working with Difficult People.” It was an encyclopedia of every kind of office tyrant, dickhead, and passive aggressive milquetoast. With it, were coping strategies for getting along with these people. Nothing was in there to help you do something about getting them removed from the workplace.

What I need is a book that tells me how to be that asshole everyone else must work accommodate and pacify.

Private business has absolutely nothing to do with better customer service. I deal with crap people no matter where I go. Private sector, public sector, big business, small business, your odds of getting a disinterested sales associate at Home Depot is just as good as getting a surly counter agent at the Post Office.

Before people leap to the conclusion that a privately run Post Office would be better, just think back to the last time you tried to make a return at Kohl’s or used the rest room of a gas station.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not sexist, but I do loathe women sportscasters. I can’t stand listening to guys drone on and on about sports and reams of stats. Women don’t give a shit about sports. That’s what makes women so much better than men.

Like most people I know, Ramen noodles were a staple of my college diet. On special occasions I might have Hamburger Helper, and if was feeling especially spendy, I’d include the hamburger. Ramen was cheap and inconsequential since there were more important things to ingest than food. You couldn’t get any simpler. Choose your MSG flavor packet. Don’t worry, they’ll all taste the same. All you’re really doing picking a color – chicken if you like yellow and beef if you like brown.

What I loved about Ramen were the serving suggestions on the package. They think Ramen is an ingredient. Ramen noodles ARE the meal. Toss in some vegetables and you have a delicious salad. Throw in some beef, chicken or pork. Seriously. Do they honestly think we’d be eating this shit if we had any of those other things. The reason you eat Ramen noodles is because everything else you mentioned costs more than $.29.

Whenever you watch a segment on TV, no matter what they’re trying to prove. If something is fattening, full of sodium or fraught with cholesterol it’s always measured in Big Macs.

Sure a Blooming Onion is 2300 calories, a bucket of movie theater popcorn is 2500. But if you need to measure the actual shittiness of food, you need to know it in terms of Big Macs. Somehow calories just don’t cut it anymore.

Sadly, this seems totally relatable, even acceptable to the general eating public.

It’s mid-October, and it’s one of the only really great times of the year to be in the midwest. The leaves are changing color, and when it’s not raining, the skies are blue and the temperature is just right.

Today was one of those days so we took a little jaunt out to Galena, a quaint little town in the far northwest corner of Illinois.

Once upon a time, Galena was a boomtown. It was even bigger than Chicago, but that was back in the mid to late 1800s. Lead was the big industry and eventually bottomed out. What’s left are great old brick buildings  filled with restaurants, inns and shops. Like most small towns it needed to court tourism, or fade away.

Galena is an exceptionally pretty, small town. It feels more like something you’d see in the Rockies of Colorado, than the bleak little dumps you usually see in Illinois.

I play a game with my kids when we drive through those places. The object is to see who can spot a Chinese restaurant, a tattoo parlor and a kung-fu studio. While I think it’s a shame we don’t have more towns like Galena in Illinois. It too has it’s share of cliches that define the American tourist town.

There will be fudge
Every small town thinks you’ll think they’re known for their world-famous hometown fudge. It will be made on a large marble slab, and there will be someone witty making it.

There will be “art”
Sure, there’s a burgeoning local art scene. But your more likely to see a rendition of Edward Hopper’s “Nighthawks” with Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Bogart, and James Dean, than you are anything by anyone in town. Today’s attraction, a painting of past Republican presidents playing a congenial game of pool with Honest Abe. This makes Dog’s Playing Poker seem like Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

There will be Bling
Evidently, when Americans travel, we’re more likely to buy luxury goods. At least 1/3 of retail will be dedicated to leather goods and jewelry peddling high-end versions of the things we’d otherwise pass up at home such as the full-length, fur collared Packer’s coat. If sports aren’t your thing, there will always be the classics.

Bikers
Tourist towns used to trade more on their past to make them unique. Maybe it was a fishing village or mining town, at one time, but now, they’re all a little Sturgis, South Dakota. Real Hell’s Angels wouldn’t be caught dead here, instead, it’ll be the usual bunch of “Hardly Davidsons” with their gray ponytails, backward Kangols, and chaps. A lot of what makes the tourist town work is a willful suspension of belief. Where else can these lawyers, and accountants walk the streets like their the Wild Bunch and not get their ass kicked?

I used to maintain a relatively blog a long long time ago. While I liked the idea of chronicling my thoughts and airing them publicly, I didn’t necessarily feel like it was worth reading from an outsider’s perspective. Over the years, I kept blogging, but I kept it to myself.

I don’t know why, but I feel like starting up one again. I’m hoping this time, I’ll post more things on it, and I’ll focus more on keeping it short, coherent, and to the point.

Wish me luck.