Crotchwaffles

At first this post was going to be a "To Whom It May Concern" but no, this post deserves its own little vignette because the star of it is such a huge douchebag crotchwaffle I couldn't bare to place it in a post conglomerate of crotchwaffles.  I played half-day hookie with Vin today to go to the dentist.  Vin was such a sweetheart that to make the day better after a visit to the dentist he surprised me with a trip to the movies right after. How cool is that? Pretty darn cool. We've been wanting to go so Wall-E and Vin found a start time that would fit in our schedule.

Let me just say, it was frigging AWESOME. And, I'm happy to say we weren't the only childless couple in there. Although, I wish everyone was childless that went to this movie, but that story's coming. Check out my full review.  It looked REAL people. Except for the humans. Other than that - it looked real.  The energy and personality of the robots (since it's our human nature to anthropomorphize EVERYTHING) really made the story stick. I thought it was going in a different direction when it came to the plot but the plot they had was phenomenal.

What was utterly un-phenomenal and totally unawesome in all its douchebaggery crotchwaffle glory was the white-trash women and their gaggle of unkempt, straggly haired, SCREAMING children. I shudder at the thought of Rio Linda ever getting a local movie theater because THESE women would be there.  When we first sat down, one bleach-blond crispity perm-fried cow was CHANGING her toddler IN THE SEAT next to her. Then, the mouth-breathing friend with the same number of state-paid for children in a bra-less camisole thought the theater was her personal living room and felt it completely okay to scream uselessly at "Zoey" to SIT DOWN and SHUT UP among other unintelligible utterings.

"Zoey", of no fault of her own of having a worthless, amoeba-brained mother and nearly raised by wolves had the manners of a well, a motherless, wolf-raised 3 year-old and felt compelled to run up and down the aisles of the theater while the movie was running. The Crispy-Fried friend had an infant, as well who SCREAMED and CRIED pretty much through out the whole movie.  In the beginning, when Zoey's mother kept hollering at her, another patron asked briskly if she'd "give it up and think about the others" of which Zoey's mother took it as a perfect opportunity to flash her brilliant intelligence and belligerently dog the guy there with his family and asked if they "were going to throw down". Yeah.

We tried best to ignore the Jerry Springer show behind us and enjoy Wall-E, but then another father, who had enough of the expletive peppered exchange said, "hey, would you quit cussing in front of my kids? Shut the hell up." I think he was joking? I don't know. All I know is the mother of one of the irritated families went and "got someone" of whom just stood in the dark corner uselessly.  One of the damn kids from the litter continued to cry.

Eventually Zoey's mom left early (thank goodness) and it got quieter after that. Except for the Crispy-Fried family's kids commenting after every significant moment. I realize it's a kid's movie, but people - IT'S NOT YOUR FRIGGING HOUSE. Curb the beautiful personalities you're graced with AT HOME.

Note to Self

Dear Self,

Why, oh why, can you not remember one simple thing like a) the time of your hair appointment and b) the very gift card for your father of which the entire day was centered around?

Honestly, Self. 

To Whom It May Concern

To the Egotistical Know-It-All in the plumbing section of OSH: Yes, we get it. You are the know-all, end-all of all things regarding the wealth of knowledge needed to perform plumbing surgeries.  You have clever tricks and witty tips to offer the dumb-ass do-it-yourselfers you perceive us to be. We realize you must come from a very applicable background to offer such plethorial insider information, and we realize you 'dumbing down' your expert jargon is only for our benefit, but NO WONDER contractors are as FUCKED UP as they are because they have YOU in all your infinite wisdom providing equipment that does not match what we've asked for and really, is a LECTURE necessary when we're only LOOKING FOR A WAX RING?!

To the Brilliant Person Who Did the Toilet Plumbing in our house: Why is the closet flange sloping in the floor? Why is NO surface LEVEL in the bathroom?

To the Brilliant Person Who Put Dirt UP TO THE BOTTOM OF THE HOUSE in the backyard: I believe you are the same person as above. Have you not heard of a little thing called termites? They like dirt. They like houses. They especially like to get to houses through the dirt. A raised bed is not entirely a grand idea around the base of a home. Granted, I have only contributed to the problem by PLANTING things in the bed, but really - up to the bottom of the house?

To the IT Dept at UOP: Why, oh WHY can I never access the website EVER?

To Whom It May Concern

To Our Small Town Post Office: Being federal employees, I understand that you are required to do little. Your hours are inconveniently during most working-stiffs employment hours and cannot physically make it into your office. This, I believe is no design flaw that has escaped you. When leaving obscure notices like certified mail receipts that require my attention, it would be helpful if YOU FILLED IT OUT CORRECTLY.  When the "signature confirmation" box is NOT checked and the directions say I can leave a note informing the postal carrier WHERE to leave my certified mail if the signature confirmation box is not checked, I assume that if I sign and write where to put my mail YOU WILL LEAVE IT.  A handy note is written by the postal carrier that it'll be available for pick up after 4:00pm. So, Vin and I notice that we can go to Will Call from 6:30 to 9:00. But putting down at WHICH 6:30 WOULD BE HELPFUL. Since placing a "you can pick up after 4" I automatically assume that will call is open at 6:30 PM.  So when we drive all the way there and buzz the will call button, to no avail, it has me questioning WHO WROTE THESE CONVOLUTED cards anyway?

Silly us, assuming that signing and leaving a note where to leave my mail will result in the redelivery of my letter. The next day, no redelivery, but alas, my note is gone! This has me thinking and very curious. Who would be delivering certified mail anyway? And why would you not leave ANOTHER certified mail card further explaining instructions BECAUSE APPARENTLY I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND IN THE FIRST PLACE.

I'll not go into my attempts to call the USPS toll-free number as I got lost in a voice-recognition tree AND A REAL PERSON IS JUST TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR. So, thankfully upon calling promptly at your weird opening hour of 8:30am, I finally got a real live person (depending on your definition of "live") and discovered who it was FINALLY from and that yes, I DID NEED TO SIGN FOR IT. Thank you, Small Town Post Office for your WONDERFUL communication and efficiency.

Cruelty or Casualty?

Is it cruelty or just grim reality?

With another death of a racehorse on the tracks of the Kentucky Derby a cry for change is being heard loud and clear. Headlines scream “Tragedy at the Derby” and PETA cries for the mistreatment of horses, others say this brings light to the dark side of the multi-billion dollar horse racing industry. Vin and I have a weakness for all things from the animal kingdom. We know that nature must take its course and nature can be very cruel, but it is necessary and it is natural selection. We have an affinity for creatures large and small, slimy, scaly and furry. Even while fishing or farming animals we make sure we treat them with respect when it comes to consuming them as part of the food chain. What infuriates us is the mistreatment of creatures who cannot speak up for themselves. Neglected and tortured animals from domestic house pets to farm animals to animals bred for this very thing: racing. Can an industry such as this be done without risk to the horses? People that risk the life of an animal for a buck or for entertainment is what makes us wonder. But can there be a fundamental change to make the sport safer?

Eight Belles is not the first horse to die on the tracks – unfortunately she will not be the last. To understand what happened to Eight Belles is to first understand the physiology of a horse. Horses LOVE to run. They’re built for speed with larger hearts and spleens to process and release oxygen-rich blood cells. The way their legs are built with the size of the hooves to the ratio of the legs and bodyweight gives them stability and speed. However, because there is little circulation and very little muscles in the ankles of a horse and because horses have a tendency to “run on their toes” when they’re in full stride of a gallop – it weakens horses ankles. Several hundred pounds per square inch is on a horse’s dainty ankles in a race, in a four beat which means that at any given time that weight is on ONE ankle. By perspective it would be like us vaulting off of a finger. The velocity helps spread out the weight, but encountering anything that can disrupt that pace and delicate balance can end in tragedy.

In the case of Eight Belles and the 2006 Derby winner Barbaro who shattered his left leg 2 weeks later at Preakness, there is a similarity between the two horses and the events that ultimately ended their lives. Both were 3 years old. When any horse owner wishes to start to ride their horse it is normally required by a veterinarian, or horse riding veteran to inspect the horse to make sure it is strong and old enough to be ridden. According to a source in the industry, usually the riding age is two, and for horses bred for this industry the horses are put through their paces and pushed well before then to be competitive and derby-ready. It is also known that to push horses they are injected with training steroids and other assistants to peak at an optimum performance level. This is not to say that any three year-old horse is going to die from injuries sustained in a race, but it raises the questions to the age and breeding of these racehorses. One interesting discovery in Barbaro and Eight Belle’s pedigree search is they both list the same grandsires in their line breeding.

In the ‘70s there was a there was another horse named Ruffian who, upon the release out of the gate had slammed her shoulder into the rail and began to favor the leg on that side. Ruffian was known for a love of running (it also states she had an unwillingness to lose, but she was a horse and most likely didn’t understand what that meant – it was probably her TRAINER who didn’t like to lose) but not long after the race did her right leg snap rendering her useless. Those that loved her sent her to surgery but sadly the anesthesia wore off in the middle and she began flailing her legs as if running a race. Despite several attendants trying to contain her she injured herself worse than her original injury and undid whatever progress the three hour surgery had made. They made the decision to euthanize her on the spot. So what could have been done to prevent this? The jockey forfeiting a possible title and purse and pulling the horse from the race? The trainer flagging a problem when it was seen she could have injured herself out of the gate?

While it may seem that this is terrible treatment and the industry may be painted with a very dark color there are the few that live to care for these animals. However, the truth of the matter is horses are just a business, a commodity. With the next best horse upcoming it’s less hassle for the trainer and owners to deal with a sick and crippled million dollar horse when they could have a high-performing horse. In the case of Barbaro who had shattered his leg in 2006, he was finally put down after almost a year of suffering surgeries and unsuccessful rehabilitations. His quality of life had significantly deteriorated and he was susceptible to ancillary infections. So, is it more humane to euthanize a horse on the track? Or is it selfishness that would cause a person to try and fix an ill-destined creature who would never race again? Where does the responsibility end of those involved in the caretaking of this horses?

It spells trouble for a horse when lower extremities are fractured. Because of poor circulation due to a lack of vessels and muscles in the ankles it can mean for along if not impossible recovery for a horse. Eight Belle’s death is still under investigation and her necropsy still pending the extent of her broken ankles. The severity of the breaks needs to be determined before anyone can fault her euthanization on the track. It is not unlike a human sprinter and the pains they feel if they misstep, but we as humans are cognizant enough to know what and where we hurt and when to stop.

Several propositions are being made to hopefully bring a change to the industry and how it’s designed. The more people become aware of the little changes the more it could save a horse’s life (and write in to the officials of derbies). Some changes being proposed are stronger thoroughbred breeding to prevent fragile skeletal structure, softer, artificial tracks, the banning of whipping that can frenzy a horse, veteran jockeys (Eight Belle’s was ridden by a Kentucky Derby rookie, Saez) and rising the racing eligibility age of a horse.

Fate plays a distinct part in the demise of these horses just as it would if it were a racecar driver, but surely things can be done to assure better safety for the horses, jockeys and all involved.