The Twisted Rantings of the Dantelope

Driving is more than an American pasttime. It's a birthright. Here in the Motor City, the young are often gifted with the keys to a 3,000 pound metal box with wheels even before birth. Oh, sure, there are diapers and crib companions, but nothing says "I love your new baby" like a '99 Jeep Wrangler complete with dangling baby shoes.

So it is in this context that I find myself perplexed by the arcane, simplistic gatekeepers to achieving that pinnacle of driverhood -- the driver's license. Why is it so easy? I ask this question not because I am intent on reducing accidents or deaths, but -- more selfishly -- because I am intent on reducing accidents or deaths involving me.

I drive more than the average bear (well, okay, I drive more than all bears, with the exception of Yogi, who has been known to take quite a few trips from Jellystone) -- close to 2 hours a day just for work. [Aside: Before you sales people and strange folks who drive from one state or country -- yes, Canada, I'm talking to you -- to another for work jump on my case and say that's not a lot, you are crazier than the whole lot of 'em. I don't know how you do it.] So here's some [unfortunately] memorable things I saw on the road... today.

• A car traveling over 100mph on a 70mph freeway..... RAMP.
• A pickup truck crossing 4 lanes of traffic... TWICE IN A PERIOD OF 10 SECONDS.
• An old woman who was not only actually picking her nose but then proceeded to place the offending boogerage on the window of her car

I'm certainly not one for bigger government, but when the test to get a driver's license involves answering a couple dozen questions like "If you hear a siren, you should A) wet yourself, B) jump out of your car and roll, C) speed up so you can go real fast like the poh-lice, or D) pull over safely to the side of the road and wait for the emergency vehicle to go past"... I get a little worried that we're giving up the freedom docs just a little easily.

---- Dantelope@vroom-vroom-vroom

Has this ever happened to you?

Got an answering machine call a couple days ago. It said "Hi, this is Jim Panels, I'm expanding my business in Northville and I was told you were someone to talk to."

I own a couple businesses, so of course, I returned the call -- no answer, just a voicemail: "Hi, this is Jim Panels. I can't take your call, leave a name and a number and I'll call you back.".

After half a day, when I didn't receive a call, I got a bit suspicious. Why did this guy leave a message on my home phone number? Anyone who wanted to do business with me would know better and call my cell phone. So I did a reverse phone lookup and found his number was associated with the dreaded Primerica.

I have this to say, in Haiku form:

Oh, Primerica
You are the devil for sure
Pyramids are lame


If you have a Haiku you'd like to share on the subject, let 'er rip!

---- Dantelope @ i-have-a-business-opportunity-for-you!

So TSO calls me at work today to inform me that a winged animal has decided to drop in.... to our fireplace!

Yes, friends, a huge bird dropped through the Santa chute and chirped and flew around like an insane parrot for the better part of the day. Apparently our chimney is nice and warm -- which is odd since we almost never use it. I did leave the pilot light on... and the flue doesn't work real well... grrrr, that means cheapskate Dantelope here has been warming the tushes of birds all winter!

So now the question on your mind... did Dantelope and family have a delicious feast of bird and cooked carrots?

Uh, no. When I got home, Firstborn and I sufficiently taunted and teased it with an enormous flashlight (the kind that can double as a bat for professional baseball players). We said things like, "Ha ha, some bird you are!" and "Are you my mother?"

Then, I called animal control. Hey now -- that thing could have bird flu!!

So Officer Gavin arrived about 30 minutes later, entering the domicile from the east and packing a bright shiny gun on his belt. For a moment, I had an image in my head of the bird flying out of the fireplace and Officer Gavin pulling a carnival shooting gallery on it. Alas, Officer Gavin did no such thing. He simply donned some gloves, opened the fireplace, reached in, and grabbed the bird.

I've never heard a bird voice its displeasure at being handled before. Let me tell you, it was a Silence of the Lambs moment: You hear the bird screaming at night, don't you, Clarice? Screaming to get out.

In a flash, the doorwall was open and POOF the bird was gone into the dark, cold night.

And then Officer Gavin -- who had a strange problem with looking people in the eye and was looking to my left all the time he was talking to me which I found very disturbing and wondered if he were ever to need to discharge his weapon would he be able to see the target or would he hit whatever was just to the left of it every time -- brought out a Junior Deputy badge for Firstborn, who promptly said Thanks!!! and then went up to bed.

We'll all sleep well tonight, except for the nightmares about the birdsnatchers....

---- Dantelope @ thank-god-it-wasn't-Big-Bird-or-Sesame-would-never-be-the-same

Kids will be kids...

This scares me. And this, too.



I've tried counting sheep. That doesn't help, either.

Lately, I just want to know... why mustard???. From the Grass Vally, CA, police briefing this past Sunday:


Last, but not least... I wonder if Mary Beth is actually considering leaving the world of teaching to become a model.

These are scary times, my friends, scary times indeed.

--- Dantelope @ everyone-knows-squirrels-taste-better-with-salsa

So I'm working out at the gym trying to lose a few pounds (okay maybe a few ten times) and I'm watching the music videos to keep my mind off the fact that it's only been 10 minutes on the elliptical and my body has produced enough liquid in that time frame to start my own swim club.... and I see this girl Emelee. Never heard of her. Do they still play videos on MTV? Teeny bop music. Hmmm. Kinda catchy. Dammit, that song is stuck in my head now! You don't know what you to do me, I'm so head over heels in love... heaven's what I feel with thee.... cuz I'm head over heels in love....

Thee? Thee? When is the last time you heard a pop star sing in Shakespearean form? Maybe she can work "Thou art some fool, I am loath to beat thee" (Cymbeline) into the next one. Okay, I can overlook the corny lyrics...

So I cruise on over to her web site and am shocked discover she hails from Detroit! Detroit! So now we've given you Bob Seger, Eminem, Kid Rock, and now Emelee. Yes, I know, I know... please accept our deepest apologies for Dave Coulier -- we're not perfect.

Emelee is the quintessential hot chick from every good teen-targeted, high school movie. Pleasantly surprised, I am. Plus, she's a blonde -- perhaps the last!!.

So, I'm obviously a dirty old man for thinking she's hot and liking her music. Then again, I was a dirty old man before I knew of her, so hey, no big deal.

Following her links to her MySpace, I started feeling old and out of touch. Sock garters and bifocals -- aisle 12 -- old. And from behind the remaining wisps of white hair, my cane fully extended, I say to you, cruel world... You don't know what you to do me, I'm so head over heels in love... heaven's what I feel with thee.... cuz I'm head over heels in love....

---- Dantelope @ i-do-love-blondes