Zimagal Monthly Magazine - Volume One, Issue Seven

Random Rant:
The Orioles really stink this year. Why did I pick this season in particular to decide to renew my interest in America's Pasttime? Oh yeah...just blame me for their lousy performance.

Welcome back, friends and enemies! I trust that my ravings last month were enough to lure you back for more...sick depraved folks that you are! Sit back, grit your teeth, and enjoy! Let the rant begin!

Real Men.
One evening recently, I had the misfortune to overhear the harsh comments of a disgruntled "ex". She was speaking of her new paramour, "At least he's a real man." Now, I asked myself, what exactly does make a man a Real Man? Not wanting to get unknowingly stuck with one of the fake ones, the surimi of the testosterone set, I pondered the question a bit. I managed to compile a little list. You may or may not agree. I may or may not care.
A Real Man...

...admits when he is lost and will stop for directions.
...opens the car door for a woman.
...will eat things other than meat and potatoes.
...is openly affectionate.
...understands the word "No".
...has callouses on his hands.
...has a sense of adventure.
...can admit defeat.
...understands the concept of PMS and knows when not to even think of pissing off his woman.
...doesn't lie about being married.
...can accept criticism.
...doesn't brag about the size of his penis, nor about how many conquests he has had, nor about how great he is in bed.
...will not take offense at a list like this.

I am sure if I thought about it a bit longer, I could add more items to this list. Can you think of some that I missed? Please enlighten me.

Random Rant:
Why do phone solicitors insist on calling at dinnertime? Well, not *my* dinnertime, but a "normal" person's dinnertime. Sure they are more likely to find someone home at this time, but dontcha think they are also more likely to get hung up on too?

Pirate Radio?
On June 30, I went to Martin's Eastwind for the very last time. Every Tuesday for the last four-and-a-half years, I have been going there to support my favorite local band, Four By Four. They are the only country band around that is truly dancer-friendly. They not only tell the dancers what dances can be done to the songs they perform, they also count off the beginning of the dance for them. The boys have been playing at Martin's for six years. Now that gig is gone. Why? Because of a young guy who thinks he's hot shit. One Steve ("Captain Kid") Moody, part-time DJ on WPOC 93.1 FM, suddenly took over the dance lesson part of Martin's Tuesday night program earlier in the year. Sandy Garrish, a fine instructor who had also spent many a year there, had been canned. Now the band is gone as well.

I have been hearing commercials for the Eastwind on WPOC recently, suspiciously not mentioning the fact that a live band plays there as well as the other lures mentioned (buffet, dance lessons, open bar). Then I go there on 6/30 and notice a sign saying that there will be no more live band as of 7/7, the following Tuesday.

The first person I spoke to that evening was Randy Conley, the band's drummer. He confirmed that the band had been fired, and to make matters worse, they received their pink slip over the phone. Martin's didn't even have the courtesy to tell them in person.

My thought on the matter is that Steve managed to convince Martin's that they should spend the money they were paying the band on advertising; that would lure the crowds to the place. This might be a truism. However, Martin's has pissed off a number of loyal fans who will not ever be returning. The fact is, there is really no other reason to go to Martin's than to hear the band. The food is awful; one imagines that it is leftover from whatever functions Martin's had hosted the previous weekend. When Sandy was teaching, the dance lessons were great. She taught dances that were done in clubs all over the region, and she made sure that we practiced new dances regularly. The Kid teaches some outrageous new dance, done to hip-hop music, that is neither done elsewhere, nor is ever done there again. I learned four or five new dances from him that were promptly forgotten because he never played music to which we could do them again. And being that they were done to hip-hop, Four By Four was not able to accomodate us either.

As my friend LaRaine so succinctly put it, "I refuse to pay $12 to listen to the radio." And thus we will have to find another activity for our Tuesday nights. Hopefully, the band will get another gig locally so we can continue our dancing.

Oh, and I am boycotting WPOC FM 93.1. There are other country radio stations around, hopefully with less bloodthirsty staff.

Beanie Weenies
I must admit, I recently succumbed to purchasing some of those popular little critters, Beanie Babies. I have always had a soft spot for stuffed animals, and had quite the extensive collection while growing up. My high school's mascot was a teddy bear, and I still have vast quantities of those. Steiff, a German company, manufactures very pricey teddy bears. Some are billed as "limited edition", and most cost well over one hundred dollars. These Steiff bears (and those by other manufacturers) were "forced collectibles" way before Ty started dreaming up their adorable little bags o' beans.

Sure, there is a unreasonable demand for Beanie Babies, especially "retired" models. People clamor for Princess the Bear and the royal blue Peanuts the Elephant because they supposedly will be worth mucho bucks in the next few years. Heck, people are already making money on them. But Beanies have their detractors. People ask, "Why? Ty is just creating false demand." Well, why buy any collectible? It's one thing to collect something because you like whatever it is you are wasting your money on, but isn't it better to waste your money on something that might be worth something some day? In fact, name a "collectible" that is not bought for "investment purposes". Coins, baseball cards, political buttons, Rookwood pottery, antique dolls, comic books, Black Americana - just about everything is worth something if you hang on to it long enough.

I commend Ty on being ingenious enough to create such a demand for their product. Heck, if I could convince the world that my beaded jewelry was an investment-quality collectible, I would! (Maybe I need to hire Subliminal Man to teach me to slip "Minx Jewelry Design" and "Give me all your money" into my regular conversation.)

I must admit I did the unthinkable to one of my Beanie Babies - I bought a Dobie the Doberman and transformed him into Rottie the Rottweiler by sewing his long floppy ears into smaller folded-over ears. I then gave him to my Dad for Christmas, as a poor replacement for our dear departed Max. Let's hope this critter doesn't become mega-valuable someday....

So I desecrated one of them. Horrors! But my other purchases are still mint and living in a plastic bag until the time comes when I can sell them and retire on the fortune I am sure to make. ::::wry smile:::

For a humorous twist on the subject, check out Dave Barry's recent column on Beanie Babies. I'll bet when you first started reading this rant, you thought I was going to be anti-cute, huh? Fooled you! Now go buy some Beanie Babies...or better yet...(gimme all your money) some lovely bead jewelry!

Stay Tuned For the Next Exciting Bitchfest!

Random Rant
Why do some vocalists, like Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston, who have perfectly nice voices, insist on being "vocal stylists" rather than "singers"? They can take one note, and following in the footsteps of Barbra, stretch that note over 18 bars, until that poor little note screams "uncle!" and the dogs in five counties start howling. And they call that entertainment? I find the dogs far more melodic.

Random Rant
Heinz Ketchup is the only real ketchup. All the others, who spell the word "catsup", are pale imitations.

Random Rant
There are entirely too many talentless people out there who get their hands on an html editor and think they can design a web site.

Random Rant
I have been informed that Diet Dr. Pepper is no longer being bottled for the Baltimore area market, at least not in the 20-oz size. I am now being forced to imbibe Diet Pepsi or (yuk) Diet Coke. Wahhhh!! Some days I just crave Dr. Pepper, and I can't get it. I guess if this is the closest I have ever been to the sensation a junkie has when needing a fix, I shouldn't complain this much, huh?