Monday, January 03, 2005

Drop By

I’ve never understood why people in small towns just drop by. Who invited you? Why in your right mind, do you think it’s a good idea to, just see if your favorite Aunt or Uncle is at home? Would you want people to drop by your house if you were sitting in your pajamas and drinking tea before bedtime? Or worst yet, what if you were torn from the depths of a late morning sleep by the doorbell and an unapologetic smile from the person on the other side of the door who fails to notice your bedhead and laganas?

This Thanksgiving and Christmas, I was reintroduced to the personal intrusion of the drop by. Man oh man, I never really though much about people just stopping by unannounced, but the holidays can magnify rudeness like big pores on your nose. The first drop by was courtesy of my uncle at 7 o’clock in the AM. Oh yes, you read that right. 7AM. He just stops on by because, you know, most people are awake on a Saturday at 7AM. And my dad welcomes him with open arms and they have coffee and chat away the morning in the loudest voices possible so we can all share the wonderment of the ’57 Chevy repair job that they saw on Monster Garage.

The next day, my dad’s primos called at 10AM to say that they were on their way over to say hi with family visiting from Texas. They called yes, but they were already on their way with a car load of people, from Texas no less, just to say hi. Three hours, two pots of coffee, and a banana nut loaf later they left. Then the neighbor stops by to chat with my dad about his tractor. Is it working? Is the engine still freezing up? How is the disk? Who fucking cares? Leave! No one invited you over shit head! We have things to do. I had about a half a pint of nice in me and I used that up with the cousins from Texas so you are shit out of luck.

Often times the people who do the drop bys also are prone to the early morning phone call. While some consider it slightly less intrusive, I find that the piercing ring of a phone at 6am, raises my level of anger just as much as the doorbell. You don’t call people unless it is between the hours of 9am and 10pm. That is just the rule! How dare you call someone at 6am? Are you kidding me right now? And it’s not even family from different time zones who are the worst offenders. Often it is people in the same town, city, state or municipality. Do you get up at 5am and twiddle your thumbs for an hour and pace back and forth in your living room waiting for the minute hand to click click click over to the 6 and the 12 so that it’s ok to call? Because let me tell you something, it’s not ok. When you hear the groggy voice on the other end of the phone, that is when you apologize and make a mental note that the Rodriquez household doesn’t get up as early as you. Then you don’t do it again. Don’t do it again, or else I’m going to have to go to your house and rip the phone out of the wall.

My parents have also become victim of the drive thru. When people drive by your house and into the driveway to take a better look to see if you are home. They look suspicious, drive suspiciously slow, often have unidentifiable cars, and generally drive you to dive behind the sofa to hide from the proverbial doorbell ring that might come if they see you sitting in the living room in your pajamas. On the four days I was home for Thanksgiving, my parents were the victims of no less than 4 drive bys. What is wrong with you people? Do you have no manners? I am the Queen of my castle and if I could I would build a mote. Stop dropping by and do one thing for me….call between the hours of 9am and 10am and see if it would be okay if you dropped by 2 days from now to say hi and offer to bring a snack. Then maybe we can talk. Otherwise, fuck off. I’m sleeping.

Monday, December 13, 2004

Funny or Mortifiying

When my mom made my family hold hands and say grace at Locanda Veneta while Ben Stiller sat one table away. Sigh.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Tivo Time

It's fall and that means time for new shows and the return of old favorites. We are talking scripted television here, none of this reality nonsense. I have found that in the vast expanse of cheap thrills that we wade through in the perpetual remote flip, there are gems to be found my friends.

It is a treacherous journey that these little shows travel with sharks that we call programming executives. Those that cannibalize their own product after 3 episodes because they think that we would rather watch reruns of Amish in the City instead of something original and fresh.

Today, I am begging you to take back tv. Let’s watch television, smart television that requires thought, creativity, and speaks to our intelligence. Can’t tv be good for you? Yes it can. So in the spirit of saving quality television, here are a list of great shows you should check out this fall.

Must See New Programming
Jack & Bobby (The WB) Sundays @ 9pm
Desperate Housewives (ABC) Sundays @ 9pm
Veronica Mars (UPN) Tuesdays @ 9pm

Current Programming Not To Miss
The Gilmore Girls (WB) Tuesdays @ 8pm
Dead Like Me (Showtime) Sundays @9pm
Arrested Development (FOX) Sundays @8:30pm


Notice how all the good shows are in the same timeslot on Sunday evenings. Conspiracy, I know. Tivo your way to freedom. Make it happen and tell your friends. There are some winners out there among the Hope & Faith’s, Reba’s, and Commando Nanny’s.

I will take a moment and put a special plug in for a lovely show that is already being hard hit by the ratings. Jack & Bobby is the story of our future President and his road to the White House.

This clever and heartfelt series touches on the relationships between mothers, sons, and brothers. It is well written, thought provoking and worth another look. So give it a look and let the The WB know that they weren’t wrong in picking it up and giving it a shot. This is your chance to save quality television.

Friday, September 03, 2004

The 5th Annual Ghetto Grammys

The 5th Annual Latin Grammys were on the other night. And in the tradition of my people, bad fashion choices and embarrassing comments abound. It was just like a painful family wedding but with open bar and on national television. But, as usual, it proved to be a fascinating anthropological experiment on “The Lats” and the people who love them. Those people being Budweiser and Wal Mart.

The Fabric Of Our Lives
Let’s take a moment and ask ourselves, Latino’s “Why are we so fashion challenged?” Ladies, spandex and sparkles aren’t a good thing, have never been a good thing, and will never be a good thing. Especially if you are someone’s tia and over the age of fifty. Alejandra Guzman I am talking to you. Seriously, what is up with the budget clothing choices? We have our own Grammy Awards and we have to fuck it up with shit like this? Just because your unemployed gay cousin Memo needs work doesn’t mean that you make him your stylist because you know that dress fell off a truck.

As for the vatos, Los Lonely Boys have crossed over but their hair is stuck in the 80’s. Guys, no one likes dudes with spit ends and puberty mustaches (particularly when you are 30 and not 12). Get some help, and don’t get it from Carlos Santana cause he has is own guru issues going on with those little pill box hats. Hijole brother, you need to put the pipe down.

Show Us Again How Ignorant You Are, Say It In The Microphone
So the Black Eyed Peas get on stage to tell us that we should all vote and make a difference. Then the idiots say “Hey, and maybe one day we can have a cool president who is Mex-ican just like me!” What? Are you seriously saying this right now after you just empowered us to go out and vote? You ruined it. Ruined it. No wonder Bush wants to close borders and enslave us all. Pendejos!

Watch Out Angelina, Latinos Have Their Own Ambassadors
Oh Lindsay Lohan, how we love you so. I’ve seen all of your breasts’..um..I mean…best movies and now you are an ambassador to all things Latino because you are dating child molester, Wilmer Valdarama. It brings a tear to my eye when I hear you say “Bweynos Nachos” on national television. I always knew you loved my people and now that you are boning Wilmer, we know just how much. Say it sister!

Then Jessica Simpson and little hippy Amber Tamblyn paraded out to show just how much they love our people because we brought them Baja Fresh. I hear Jessica loves their Naked Burrito. Ole!

All in all, this year’s Latin Grammys were a big yawn. George Lopez had some moments, but that wears thin after two hours of bad clothing and cringe worthy speeches. And to top it all off, Southwest Airlines was the carrier for the show. Can you imagine Shakira and Soraya fighting over seats and peanuts? Oh Latinos, when will we ever learn.

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

sigh.

wonderfalls
wonderfalls,
originally uploaded by alegrecita.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Confessions of a Classist Driver

Driving is strategy. A game. It requires forethought, planning. One must be sleuthy and exhibit copious amounts of cunning. In my race, ne, drive to work this morning, I came to a scary conclusion about myself. I am a classist driver. Oh yes, I said it. I realized as I cursed the slow driving ’85 Toyota Corolla in front of me and swerved behind a BMW 325i that I had problems, major problems. But what is it with people in old cars? I mean I drove an ’82 Accord circa 1993 and my little wreck drove fast because I willed it to. Will people. Will. You put your fucking pedal to the metal and your car will excide your expectations.

The Gap is Not Just a Store
Just because you may be insecure, because your ride isn’t as cool as the next guy’s doesn’t mean that you don’t have to pay attention to the road. I’m the asshole on your bumper willing with bionic power for you to pay some fucking attention to the gap between you and the car in front of you. There should never be gaps in the road people. Pick up the fucking slack. If there is more than 2 car lengths between you and the car in front of you were is a problem, especially if this travisty is occurring during rush hour traffic. I just don’t understand it. How can you not pay attention? Do you not feel me breathing down your neck so that you will hurry the fuck up? When someone does it to me, I get stressed. Why are you so oblivious?

Mini Vans Are the Devil's Handy Work
The Astro Minivan. Evil incarnate. I think that when they sell you this car, Chevy fails to tell you that it doesn’t go above 5 miles an hour. Or maybe slow people are the only ones that think “Damn, I’m gonna look hot in this puppy” when they drive it off the show room floor. In any case, why is it that people in Astro Minivans are so damn clueless? Man oh man, if I’m ever stuck behind a slow moving automobile, chances are 9 out of 10, that it’s a freaking Astro Minivan with the bumper hanging off and a wire hanger for an antenna. Why can’t we just past legislation to get them off the road? Can we take away the licenses of the drivers who own them as well, to put the rest of us at ease? I know I would sleep better if there were one less Minivan on the road.

The Stuffed Animal Factor
I think my drive this morning summed up my feelings as a whole about negligent drivers. I once thought that they were just random people who roamed the earth in a fog. But now I know better. They are a type, a kind of people, a breed, a tribe. In a word, losers. They have but one little ping pong ball bouncing around in their little heeds, and that is to much for them. They are simple people, with simple thoughts like “Boy, oh boy. Wouldn’t it be so cute if I put a little stuffed animal in the back of my rear seat so that the person behind me could enjoy its cuteness too?” Well you know what? I don’t give a fuck about your distracting little animal. In fact, it’s stupid and all it does is serve to indicate that you are someone who isn’t paying attention to the road and you are too busy trying to see if I notice your little fucking stuffed animal in the back of your car. All it makes me do is think, “Dammit, another idiot with the stuffed animal, now I have to change lanes because this mother fucker isn’t going to get off their ass as soon as the light changes.” For the love of God, give it a rest. Don’t be cute, be smart. Better yourself and lose the plush.

In a recent trip to Canada, my driver pointed out to me a big sticker on the back of the car in front of us with an “N” on it. “You know what that means?” he asked me. “It means that that person is a new driver. They have to have that sticker on there for a year before they can take it off.” All I could think is that while I may think that Canadians have the most annoying accent on the planet, they sure are smarter than we are. I think a Scarlett Letter “S” for Stupid Driver would serve to open our roadways and our minds to defensive driving. Then I would know and not have to look for Astro Minivans with little stuffed animals in the back window and curse my life.